Campogiovanni

Like in a dream, I find myself lost in the hills somewhere south of Siena. After the Medici family conquered Siena in 1555, Montalcino (where the wine is from) held out for almost four years before it fell to the Florentines. Though only in tiny sips, I can bring back memories of what the land looks like.

Rarely has it seem more presumptuous to make grand plans for the future than tonight. Still, I have flights booked and ticketed all the way until the very end of 2017, the year when the world will take a big leap into the dark unknown.

I really do not know what to do tomorrow. Maybe listen once more to Obama’s inaugural address from 2009. Or writing feedback on yet another student essay in the hope that the next generation will be ever so slightly better equipped to climb back up from the abyss.