This desire to start writing anything was in me for a long time, yet I’ve never managed to move further then just having those vague ideas. And here I am, starting this page with notes on my visit of the Turin’s cemetery.
It’s not that strange to visit such a place when you’ve come from another culture with different traditions from your new place of habitat, and no wonder that I was interested in it’s mysteries and dark shadows.
My place of interest was the main cemetery (Cimitero Monumentale) on the corso Novara 135, which seems to be the most antique one and started its history in the 1827.
Unfortunately, I was deeply disappointed with the schedule, as it is usually open the whole week except Mondays from 08.30 to 16.30 in winter ( to 17.30 from the end of March) as my hope to make sunset shots was shattered.
Of course, I didn’t check that and went there right on the day it was closed. However, when I came to the gates, to my surprise, they were open, and without hesitation I stepped in on the territory of sorrow. *(Apparently, you can get an accreditation to make photos on Monday as there are less people who visit cemetery because of its primary purpose).
The zone I live in Turin is pretty fucked up. Even just passing by the street during the day sometimes turns out not that psychologically safe for a young woman, so when I found myself in a place like that, distant from the city fuss, fresh and full of shadows from trees and strangely green for this time of the year a felt a relief.
STORIE LOCALE 
STORIE LOCALE
I didn’t expect to find myself so peaceful and safe in a place like that but I did. That’s why I’ll return there in a search of a shelter and the long gone romanticism of the XIXth century.
When I entered the gates, I thought for a second how fun it would be to be accidentally closed at the cemetery, and guess what happened. Right when I was about to leave that place, the irony was that I faced with closed gates and not a living soul inside.
There was just a small bell on the door the ring of which resounded all over the cemetery until the heavy doors opened with a wave of one’s hand.
Far away from home 