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“The station was tiny, just like the station in Sipolje, which I had dutifully committed to memory. All the stations in the old Dual Monarchy resembled each other, all the little stations in the little provincial towns. Yellow and tiny, they were like lazy cats that in winter lay in the snow, in summer in the sun, sheltering under the crystal glass roofs over the platform, and guarded by the emblem of the black double eagle on yellow ground…”


I’m gradually coming to realise that when I take holidays, I’m trying to travel to a different time, as much as a different place.

Anyway, I’m back now. Three operas to review this week, and I’m looking forward to them all.

Stane Kumar: Snow on the Karst

Stane Kumar: Snow on the Karst