My friend once told me that each orgasm she has has a colour. It was a long time ago but I still remember it. Maybe because I love colours and I love orgasms. And it surprised me because I do associate so many things with colours , but never that.
One of the things I associate with colours are cities. Białystok, is green, Warsaw is grey, Cagliari is yellow. Amsterdam is red, Barcelona is blue, Valencia is violet, Istanbul is pink and Rome is black.
Teruel is brown. And brown can be ambiguous and disgusting (you don’t have to thank me for that highly sophisticated remark), but Teruel’s brown is a clear brown, maybe a bit reddish, a joyous one and it smells of wood. Its architecture is brown. Its streets, its shadows. The buildings are. The hills that surround it. Even the dogs here seem browner than anywhere else.
To those who don´t know, it’s a capital city of Teruel Province in the Spanish Comunidad of Aragón. And some years ago they launched a campaign called Teruel existe just to rise up social awareness that such a province…yeah, exists, but mostly that it needs a financial support. The proof that they were right is that it is the only province in Spain that has no railway connection to Madrid. Due to the mountains that surround it, it is also one of the coldest areas of Spain. Nobody speaks a word in English. Sounds like an extremely boring place? I love it. Not the cold maybe, but many other things.
I am lucky to accidentally end up in cute places and cute is a perfect word. Cagliari, my biggest surprise, and the most intense love up to now, is cute too. They are both like warm and cool grandmas that make you feel like home immediately. Even though Cagliari has already knitted me many more scarves and cooked a lot of soups and Teruel won’t have a chance to do that because of the lack of time.
In the morning, when there are minus zero temperatures, I almost feel like in my hometown, in the northern Poland (where my real two cute grandmas live). And it´s strange feeling after two years of living in Sardinia. It is strange sensation to be freezing again. But the evenings are the strangest. Cause it smells like winter in Poland, even though there is no snow here. But nothing resembles Poland here.
I am hysterically excited to hear Spanish everywhere. I am glad to finally be able to really use it after a long abandonment. Fall in love with it again. Will you please love me again, castellano? Because Italian says che li sto rompendo il cazzo troppo.
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