19 July,
Taormina. Hotel San Domenico. 1980
In Sicily for the first time. I
don't yet have any understanding of it. Catania is a gloomy town,
with heavy, dirty buildings which have their own kind of air and
their own visage.
The Hotel San Domenico in
Taormina is in what was once a monastery. Huge corridors;
sumptuous staircases; the rooms used to be cells. There's a garden and a
view over the sea. The sea here is very clean.
I've seen Rondi, but haven't yet
talked to him about the things I intend to discuss with him.
Maybe tomorrow.
Marina, the interpreter, is
improving. There is something new about her. I am tired, going to
bed. Here until the 27th, when I fly to Rome in the morning.
Andrej Tarkovskij, The Diaries, 1970-1986
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