I looked around, straight ahead was a Disneyland building, a wedding cake of layered domes, nested muslim dolls, the smaller ones peaked by a moon sized superbowl, all chaperoned by six Apollo scale minaret towers. Matrioshka eggheads for Islam and tourists. Frommers said it was the Blue Mosque, but it wasn’t hiding from the tourist dollar either, the Broadway footlights cranking up the vertigo. Other grand buildings stacked behind, but couldn’t see them so well. Over there, a train of cars linked the continents with their lights, arcing the bridge across black water. That was the east, Asia. Endless lights, more than the stars in the wide sky above. To the north, the European city was hemmed in the far distance by the high office blocks of a business district. To the west, couldn’t see far. To the south, the sea was there, but couldn’t see it, just the navigation lights that guided tankers and traders to bear and bull through the intersection for the Middle East, North Africa, Europe. Standing here, I realised Artie had got it all wrong, his favourite Italian church only dealt part of the story, that’s what really frustrated Kaffa, what he truly treasured. https://youtube/watch?v=wv9jGeJIK_M
Posted on: Wed, 22 Oct 2014 11:58:11 +0000
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