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Manhunt - urban game

M. Cristina Marras

Manhunt - urban game

A daily Games podcast
Good podcast? Give it some love!
Manhunt - urban game

M. Cristina Marras

Manhunt - urban game

Episodes
Manhunt - urban game

M. Cristina Marras

Manhunt - urban game

A daily Games podcast
Good podcast? Give it some love!
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Episodes of Manhunt

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A sparkling morning, camouflaged among the few visitors, walking through the statues of Bonaria Cemetery. It's the cemetery of a city that seems to have no memory, except in its surnames on the tombstones, still today matching the name tags at
At the top of Monte Urpinu I am enjoying the evening light on the pond and the beach, with the sky changing shades of reds. They ensured me that huge flocks of flamingos will fly over here, crossing to reach the ponds on the other part of town.
Carl the 5th and the Americans are also here, in the cloister of at St. Domenico, that the Spanish kings built in 1500 and the Americans bombed to the ground during the war. The atmosphere is relaxing, the traffic noise doesn’t reach the inside
In front of the Industrial Credit building there should’ve been a large sail, instead of this ugly marquee and this deserted square. The world-famous architect Renzo Piano, who then disowned his own project, also had to bend to the force of the
The Church of Saint Saturnino is open today. This building makes me feel sorry for it, destroyed, rebuilt, vandalised for fifteen centuries, with the last wound inflicted by some window fanatic who wanted to place glass panes in the archways. T
The EXMA used to be the town’s slaughterhouse, with blood-coloured walls and bull heads mounted in stone to decorate the spaces between the arches, with perfectly round windows that always marked my nightmares, ever since I was a child. In the
Water, trees, and architectural frames worthy of a modern metropolis. The Park of Music projects you into an alternate world, peaceful, soothing. Philippine families linger around on one side, groups of teenagers sunbathe on the vast lawns. I h
No matter where you go, the central market of any city tells you a lot about the character of its people, it’s the joyful belly of the city. Here, at the San Benedetto market, locals take their guests to show off, and politicians come here to m
Gleaming sunlight and gusts of wind enveloped the piazza, populated by burnt, tormented visages. It’s the market of Via Quirra: irresistible bargains on the outside, on the inside, the noisy and gentle people of this city who loves food above a
Piazza San Michele. Locals skirt it, but they don’t walk inside, it's scary crossing this white marble pond from which the pointed shape of the church emerges. A church that was designed when people believed that religion should be understandab
This joke of a castle was supposed to protect Santa Igia, the city on the pond that dreamed of becoming the capital of a liberated Sardinia. The city was invaded from the sea and levelled to the ground instead. Right ambition, bad timing. A les
Dr. Morelli awaits me in the shade of the pine trees of a garden, facing the round square, Piazza d’Armi, dominated by the old prison from which they say no one ever managed to escape. He is one of the potential buyers of the codes, he represen
XIX Century landscape here at the Public Gardens, with shadow of big trees, aged statues, children screaming, moms talking about doctors, retirees reading the newspaper. I'm here to look in our mailbox, a crack in a rock hidden by a cobblestone
Of course, the elevator to descend from the high part of the city still doesn’t work. Issa, instead, had the bad luck to fall, crushing, thrown down head first, like the Spanish invaders used to do with the locals from Cagliari, when they were
t was you who told me the story of the Beauty of Sanluri, who in 1410 made love to Martino the Younger, invader of Sardinia already weak with malaria, exhausting him to death. Here, in the Cathedral of Cagliari in front of his fake baroque maus
This is where I grew up, Vico III Genovesi a narrow lane in the part of town they call Castello, the castle. Here I played and suffered amidst peeling walls and dark stairwells, with the constant smell of boiled cabbage, before I could escape t
I meet her at the Bastione Santa Croce. She is chubby, full of tattoos, plump lips and bright eyes. She is showering me with old design ideas, but you can tell, she is suffering, she is a working poor, works a lot, doesn’t get much money. We ar
The white Tower, St Pancrazio, the tallest in the city. We climbed it together, mixed with tourists from the cruise ships, to forget ourselves amidst the sky, in the wind, our shoulders turned to the sea at the horizon. And you made the list of
The obsequious janitor still recognizes me, and lets me in, but tells me to hurry up. Here in the old anatomical theater, where they used to dissect bodies, here I saw you play your last comedy, on behalf of the Firm, surrounded by young naive
You told me going back to Cagliari would be good for me. You sent me to encourage a research team on cyber security. Well, your plan was for me to steal any good idea, for the Company. I liked you for your hands-on attitude, and because you wer
Here they are, two columns, two of the many obelisks that mark this city. But these are the only uneven ones: one taller than the other, and I know to find them in front of the church of San Michele. This church is the glory of the Jesuits, alw
I am following the traces of a loved one, someone who is probably hiding here, hiding even from me. Two newsagent kiosks, under the statue of one of those king soldiers, Carlo Felice, look at him, dressed like a Roman general. They somehow perv
City Townhall, a shining white building that stands out against the intense blue of the sky. Pretend gothic, pretentious just like the rulers of this city, king soldiers who no one remembers with joy. Students and loafers hang out under the col
Unfamiliar sensation in a familiar city. All what the intel says is that you left a sign not long ago. And my job is to locate it. During the training I have learnt that I have to collect every evidence, and that often is a piece of insignifica
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