Monday, November 9

The geographical limits to my imagination

I travel vicariously these days, not necessarily through another person but via the goods I order. In the same way you sit in an aircraft and track your flight on screen, I follow a package from the workshop in Reggio, through Parma and Piacenza to Milan, where it mysteriously disappears…before surfacing in Barking and journeying on to Tamworth and Exeter. Whatever sense of exotica I fancy diminishes the closer my package gets to home. I can imagine all sorts of things about northern Italy, the basilicas and palaces, tortellini in broth with a glass of Chianti, but Barking leaves me cold.

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