As we got accustomed, we will dive into the uncharted waters of time, where the currents of history and innovation converge. Much like a masterful watchmaker assembles intricate timepieces, during the last three chapters we've pieced together the fascinating mosaic of human efforts to capture, measure, and ponder time. Our journey has been a chronicle of mathematical monks, ecclesiastical influences, sundials, and medieval escapades, all leading us to the doorstep of Nuremberg, where time became an art form, a quest for precision carried on the shoulders of crafty artisans.

Part two of our temporal journey began on a late Sunday afternoon, accompanied by 'the gentle hush of the first snowfall of the season,' offering the perfect ambiance for contemplation. It's been almost a month since we dived into the early days of timekeeping revolutions, where we explored ancient devices that sparked a revolution: the Tower of the Winds, an ancient marvel that whispered the secrets of time, and the Orologio della Torre di Sant'Andrea, a watchtower that, much like a guardian, helped the city of Chioggia be reborn, instilling a sense of order and quietude.

As I settled into my cozy writing nook, enveloped by the gentle hush of the first snowfall of the season, I found myself inspired to revisit my favourite subject: time. In the previous blog post, we delved into the intricate tapestry of time, exploring the various calendars that have marked the passage of days and seasons. Now, as I sit surrounded by the subtle magic of winter's first descent, I'm drawn to unraveling the historical threads that led us to the calendars we use today.

In the hallowed halls of literary exploration, where the shelves sag under the weight of unread tomes, I embarked on a quest. A quest to disentangle the intricacies of time and calendars, a journey as challenging and mysterious as finding your way out of a hedge maze on a foggy British morning. […] Why this sudden plunge into the depths of temporal complexity, you ask? Picture this: a room adorned with the chaos of scattered books, a literary landscape resembling the aftermath of a spirited cricket match. This clutter – I came to realise - is the manifestation of my struggle with 'Tsundoku,' a condition the Japanese so aptly named for stacking books and leaving them be – a plight that turns bookshelves into libraries of good intentions.

In a world that seems to spin faster every day, there comes a time when you realise you might be spinning a bit slower. Ah, yes, the subtle and not-so-subtle signs of aging that grace us with their presence. It's like life's way of saying, "Welcome to the vintage club!" So, grab your reading glasses and join me in exploring the undeniable, occasionally endearing, and often amusing signs that you might be getting on in years.

Autumn, that magical season when leaves turn shades of gold and the wind whispers ancient secrets, has always been a time of quiet contemplation for me. As I embark on my annual journey through the pages of JA Baker's "The Peregrine," it's a bit like strapping into a time machine and being whisked away to the countryside of my youth. Not just any countryside, mind you, but MY countryside - a place steeped in the stories of my parents, grandparents, and a wide-eyed kid who used to ask endless questions.

A town steeped in history, with its old stone architecture, renowned university, and that ever-so-distinct aroma of seafood wafting through the air. That’s St Andrews for you. [...] As I arrived, I was greeted by a lively atmosphere, a bustling blend of students, locals, and fellow tourists. The town's stone architecture whispered tales of centuries past, and I couldn't help but imagine the scholars and philosophers who had roamed these very streets. Of course, I didn't consult a map - maps are for the uninspired - I relied on my sense of orientation, which promptly led me to get wonderfully lost.

Have you ever been so caught up in the hustle and bustle of everyday life that you completely forget about the simple pleasures you used to enjoy? That's precisely what happened to me. Amidst the daily grind, I somehow managed to misplace my gamer's hat and hadn't touched a video game in what felt like an eternity. But as fate would have it, the gaming gods conspired to reunite me with a long-lost gem.

I must confess that even now, weeks after my return from Edinburgh, I remain under the influence of that enchanting city. It was a place where history whispered from the cobblestone streets, where each corner told a tale, and where the scent of old books mingled with the crisp Scottish air. One day, in pursuit of the city's history and a mild obsession with its bookshops, I found myself wandering through the labyrinthine shelves of one particularly charming establishment - Topping & Company Booksellers of Edinburgh. The city boasts an array of these literary treasure troves, each a haven for bibliophiles and history buffs alike. The variety of topics covered in these stores was staggering, ranging from ancient tomes of Scottish folklore to contemporary novels set against the backdrop of the rugged Highlands.

In homage to Brian Eno, visual artist Thomas Blanchard crafted a video for the 2010 song "Emerald and Stone," which Eno had collaborated on with Jon Hopkins and Leo Abrahams.

This trip had been brewing in my mind for quite some time, long before I left the cozy confines of my home. They said the place was the bee's knees – rolling hills, tranquil lakes, and all that jolly good stuff. The plan to trek the hills of Windermere, to put a pep in my step and a sparkle in my eye, as they say, was carefully plotted and so, on a brisk, sunny morning there I was, on platform 5 at Waverley station waiting for the TransPennine Express.

Ah, Edinburgh! The very name whispered tales of a city steeped in history, kissed by unpredictable Scottish weather, and adorned with a landscape that seemed plucked straight from a Tolkien novel. It was this promise of adventure that lured me to the Scottish capital, ready to experience a new world, new surroundings, and perhaps even a glimpse of Nessie. Okay, that last one might have required a road trip, but a traveler can dream!

My stint with the Brothers started sometime back in 1994, 1995 when a friend of mine who came back from visiting his relatives in France, brought a copy of a big-beat / electronica mixtape. In between the likes of Fluke, The Prodigy, Orbital there was the Dust Brothers (as they were called back then), and an early version of a track of what was to become the acclaimed “Song To The Siren”. I think I played that tape to death (eventually managed to make a copy of it), and then the inevitable happened…

This blog has been a long time in the works. I mean – the ideas were there, scrambling in my head, but then it seemed like I never really managed to bring myself to sit down, iron things out and lay down a structured approach to disseminate them. And sometimes the thoughts, the ideas and questions that pop in one’s mind are best shared either with your entourage, or at least written down somewhere…

The length of a human life is around 80 years. You might get 100 if you're lucky. The universe is about 13.7 billion years old. The vast difference between a human lifespan and the age of the universe can be difficult to grasp — even the words we use in attempting to describe it (like "vast") are comically insufficient.

I fist became acquainted to David Grann’s writing via a long piece published in The New Yorker way back in 2005: The Lost City of Z. Encouraged by the audience’s positive reactions, Grann went on and expanded upon the aforementioned piece, publishing few years later a book with the same title. It is a fascinating read about the adventures of one Col. Percy Harrison Fawcett, a British surveyor. Having stumbled upon on a document (i.e. Manuscript 512 held at the National Library in Brazil), he developed an obsession for what he thought were the ruins of an ancient city buried deep in the Amazonian forest. There’s a movie as well, released back in 2016, perhaps not as good as the book but an engaging experience nonetheless.

It’s been ages since my now long-forgotten blog has taken shape. It was during the time when I was living abroad, experiencing new things, being curious about everything and everyone around me, the people, the environment and the likes.