It is not Tozeur

Franco Battiato pops up at the most unexpected times. But when I travel, he does it more often than usual. It may be that so many of his songs were the soundtrack to me as a child, in the warm, quiet cabin of our RV: summer outside, a new country every summer.

A fortune that even now, while understanding it, moves me.

And then I remember once, here in Turin, with him on stage at a poorly organized concert, with people sitting in the stalls and a ring of fans kept out all around, who the stalls couldn't afford it or who knows, I remember him at one point, realizing that the people in the ring around were looking for, yearning for his music, he, turning to us in the ring, said, "If the music doesn't reach you, come and get it." At that point the barriers began to move, the people around swarming into all the empty spaces, filling the aisle between the seated people, the front of the stage.

It was very nice, it was exciting.

But this photo is from a station where we waited for the train that took us to Kyoto. It is here because of a chain of suggestions and propectives, I think. Tell me if it is not a Fairy Morgana the one there on the train carriage, like the ones on the salt lake in Tozeur.