Podcasts about Porte

Maxiscience revient, trois fois par semaine. Hébergé par Audion. Visitez https://www.audion.fm/fr/privacy-policy pour plus d'informations.

Chaque jour, retrouvez les journaux de la rédaction d'Europe 1 pour faire le tour de l'actu.Hébergé par Audiomeans. Visitez audiomeans.fr/politique-de-confidentialite pour plus d'informations.

Chaque jour, retrouvez les journaux de la rédaction d'Europe 1 pour faire le tour de l'actu.Hébergé par Audiomeans. Visitez audiomeans.fr/politique-de-confidentialite pour plus d'informations.

Chaque jour, retrouvez les journaux de la rédaction d'Europe 1 pour faire le tour de l'actu.Hébergé par Audiomeans. Visitez audiomeans.fr/politique-de-confidentialite pour plus d'informations.

Le préfet de la Meuse va porter plainte contre des propos "révisionnistes" tenus en marge de l'hommage à Philippe Pétain et ses soldats dans un église de Verdun, samedi. Hébergé par Audiomeans. Visitez audiomeans.fr/politique-de-confidentialite pour plus d'informations.

Invités : - Jules Torres, journaliste politique au JDD. - Raphaël Stainville, directeur adjoint de la rédaction du JDD. Hébergé par Audiomeans. Visitez audiomeans.fr/politique-de-confidentialite pour plus d'informations.

Nouvelle diffusion du 5 novembre 2025 Est-ce lʹheure de gloire de la noisette suisse ? La récolte a été plutôt bonne cette année. Ce nʹest pas le cas en Turquie ni en Italie : les deux principaux pays producteurs de ce fruit à coque ont vu leur production chuter. Cléa Favre sʹest rendue chez un producteur vaudois de noisettes, qui se dit satisfait de sa saison. Reportage à Cottens.

Yves CARRA, Porte-parole de Mobilité Club France répond à toutes les questions de mobilité sur LYON 1ère. RDV chaque mardi à 7h50 et samedi à 10h50. Devenez un véritable expert de la mobilité avec LYON 1ère!Hébergé par Ausha. Visitez ausha.co/politique-de-confidentialite pour plus d'informations.

  Invités : - Reda Behlaj, porte-parole du syndicat de police UNITE - Sarah Saldmann, avocate - Gauthier le Bret, journaliste - Georges Fenech, ancien magistrat -  Fabien Onteniente, réalisateur Hébergé par Audiomeans. Visitez audiomeans.fr/politique-de-confidentialite pour plus d'informations.

  Invités : - Reda Behlaj, porte-parole du syndicat de police UNITE - Sarah Saldmann, avocate - Gauthier le Bret, journaliste - Georges Fenech, ancien magistrat -  Fabien Onteniente, réalisateur Vous voulez réagir ? Appelez-le 01.80.20.39.21 (numéro non surtaxé) ou rendez-vous sur les réseaux sociaux d'Europe 1 pour livrer votre opinion et débattre sur grandes thématiques développées dans l'émission du jour.Hébergé par Audiomeans. Visitez audiomeans.fr/politique-de-confidentialite pour plus d'informations.

L'ABC de Bertrand Chameroy diffusé le jeudi 13 novembre 2025 à 20h50 sur France 5.Tous les soirs à la table de “C à Vous”, Bertrand Chameroy propose un tour d'horizon décalé des événements qui font l'actualité.

"We should start back” sono le primissime parole de “Le Cronache del Ghiaccio e del Fuoco” di George R.R. Martin e noi abbiamo pensato di fare esattamente così.È il giorno della partenza, tutti stanno per lasciare Nido dell'Aquila per l'inverno e trasferirsi insieme ai Royce alle Porte della Luna, il castello a fondovalle. C'è solo un problema: convincere il piccolo Lord Robert a uscire dal letto e prepararsi, non possono permettersi di fare tardi, altrimenti rimarranno bloccati su in cima dalla neve per chissà quanto tempo.Alayne è l'unica che riesce a convincerlo, senza che le si tirino vasi da notte in testa o che la si minacci di morte certa. Una volta soli nella stanza, tra un bacio e un'impossibile promessa di torte al limone e storie fantastiche, Alayne convince Sweetrobin a fare un bagno e vestirsi per la discesa che durerà l'intera giornata e anche parte della notte.Mya Stone è già pronta coi muli, insieme a lei Myranda Royce, la figlia di Lord Nestor e una potenziale minaccia da come la descrive Littlefinger.La realtà è forse ben diversa, poiché, nonostante le domande puntuali e infinite di Randa, Sansa sente che finalmente qualcuno più capirla dopo anni di solitudine, forse potrebbero veramente finire per essere amiche lei e Randa. Durante la discesa sono Myranda e Alayne che incoraggiano il piccolo Robert e lo incitano a non fermarsi, il tutto mentre soffiano venti gelati e la neve li circondi da ogni lato: Sansa non si era mai sentita così a suo agio.Arrivati a valle, Alayne viene subito avvertita della presenza di suo padre nel castello. Petyr le presenta ben tre nuovi cavalieri al suo servizio: Ser Byron, Ser Morgarth e il già conosciuto Ser Shadrich, tutti grati di poter conoscere la famosa figlia del Lord Protettore.Alla fine padre e figlia si ritrovano soli a parlare e, in un momento di pura autoreferenzialità ed egocentrismo, Littlefinger si vanta dei suoi immensi successi tra cui: l'aver contratto un matrimonio Corbray per l'erede con una dote milionaria, l'aver vinto sui Lord Declarant avendo portato dalla sua parte Waynwood e Belmore e l'aver confezionato per Alayne tre dei suoi più grandi regali: Harry l'Erede, Nido dell'Aquila e Grande Inverno.Potete trovarci su tutti gli altri social tramite i link qua sotto Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/tronodispadepod/Twitter: https://twitter.com/tronodispadepodInstagram: https://www.instagram.com/tronodispadepod/Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/show/4mdslx4Nd8vunpc7nP3B45Google Podcast: https://www.google.com/podcasts?feed=aHR0cHM6Ly9hbmNob3uZm0vcy81MDk3ZTk4OC9wb2RjYXN0L3Jzcw==Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/ilpodcastdelghiaccioedelfuocoKo-fi: https://ko-fi.com/ilpodcastdelghiaccioedelfuocoLinkt.ree: https://linktr.ee/ilpodcastdelghiaccioedelfuoco

Nouveaux pilotes, un brin déjantés, à bord de la Libre Antenne sur RMC ! Jean-Christophe Drouet et Julien Cazarre prennent le relais. Après les grands matchs, quand la lumière reste allumée pour les vrais passionnés, place à la Libre Antenne : un espace à part, entre passion, humour et dérision, débats enflammés, franc-parler et second degré. Un rendez-vous nocturne à la Cazarre, où l'on parle foot bien sûr, mais aussi mauvaise foi, vannes, imitations et grands moments de radio imprévisibles !

Info suhttps://pirati.io/2025/11/adesso-basta-chatcontrol-2-0-rientra-dalla-porta-di-servizio-breyer-avverte-lue-ci-sta-prendendo-in-giro/

Tous les matins, Étienne Bracq revient sur les performances des principaux marchés boursiers et les tendances du moment dans Morning Briefing, dans l'émission Good Morning Business, présentée par Laure Closier, sur BFM Business. Retrouvez l'émission du lundi au vendredi et réécoutez la en podcast.

Emmanuel Ferrario, Legislador porteño por Volvamos Buenos Aires @emmaferrario @ROSCA_CASTA 11-11-2025

durée : 00:03:04 - L'info d'ici, ici Mayenne - Ce dimanche 9 novembre, 300 danseurs étaient réunis à la salle des fêtes du Mûrier à Craon pour un thé dansant organisé par l'association L'Huisserie en Rose. Une rencontre festive et caritative puisque tous les bénéfices ont été reversés à la Ligue contre le cancer, à l'occasion de Novembre Bleu. Vous aimez ce podcast ? Pour écouter tous les autres épisodes sans limite, rendez-vous sur Radio France.

00:00 Un marché des Gueux devant la gare Montparnasse mardi 11 novembre

Retrouvez Nathalie Schraen-Guirma et ses invités autour du Salon du Made in France 2025 à Porte de Versailles !

Yves CARRA, Porte-parole de Mobilité Club France répond à toutes les questions de mobilité sur LYON 1ère. RDV chaque mardi à 7h50 et samedi à 10h50. Devenez un véritable expert de la mobilité avec LYON 1ère!Hébergé par Ausha. Visitez ausha.co/politique-de-confidentialite pour plus d'informations.

durée : 00:20:32 - Journal de 12h30 - Sur des vidéos amateurs, on voit un épais nuage de fumée s'élever dans la salle Pierre Boulez de la Philharmonie. Des spectateurs, pour manifester leur hostilité à cette représentation ont fait usage hier soir de fumigènes pour interrompre le concert, jusqu'à déclencher des affrontements.

Resumen de noticias de LA NACION de la tarde del 7 de noviembre de 2025

durée : 00:20:32 - Journal de 12h30 - Sur des vidéos amateurs, on voit un épais nuage de fumée s'élever dans la salle Pierre Boulez de la Philharmonie. Des spectateurs, pour manifester leur hostilité à cette représentation ont fait usage hier soir de fumigènes pour interrompre le concert, jusqu'à déclencher des affrontements.

(00:00:00) M5 su MacBook Pro: upgrade o déjà vu? (00:00:16) Bentornato FgFoto (00:01:13) Evoluzione del Progetto Apple Silicon (00:04:10) Esperienze con tra MacBook Air e Pro (00:06:45) I problemi con i MacBook Air 5 anni dopo (00:08:12) Decisione sull'Acquisto del MacBook Pro (00:12:14) Passaggio all'M5 e Prime Impressioni (00:13:07) Andamento del Mercato e Rumors (00:14:33) Caratteristiche del MacBook Pro (00:16:44) Portabilità e Utilizzo delle Porte (00:18:45) Utilità delle Periferiche nel 2025 (00:20:54) Esperienza con il Display e HDR (00:25:51) Discussione sul Notch del Display (00:28:04) Evoluzione della Tastiera (00:33:03) Futuro del Mac e delle Tecnologie (00:39:03) Gaming e Prestazioni del MacBook Pro (00:49:18) Conclusione e Prossimi Temi del Podcast Francesco compra un MacBook Pro M4 e dieci giorni dopo esce l'M5. Apple 1 – portafogli 0. In questa puntata proviamo a capire se il nuovo chip cambia davvero qualcosa… o se è solo un M4 con più autostima.Visita Digiteee e scopri tutte le notizie sulla tecnologiaSegui Digiteee su TikTokDimmi la tua su Twitter, su Threads, su Telegram, su Mastodon, su BlueSky o su Instagram.Mail jacoporeale@yahoo.it Scopri dove ascoltare il podcast e lascia una recensione su Apple Podcast o Spotify.Ascolta An iPad guy su YouTube Podcast.Supporta il podcast

Est-ce que vous avez encore des potes datant de vos années lycée ? Est-ce que vous êtes nostalgiques de cette époque ? Alors vous ressemblez à Jérôme Commandeur : il s'est laissé convaincre par ses producteurs pour aller fouiller dans sa mémoire et sa jeunesse en imaginant l'histoire de 4 amis lycéens devenus adultes, décidant d'organiser une fête avec toute leur promo... Ecoutez Laissez-vous tenter - Première avec Stéphane Boudsocq du 05 novembre 2025.Hébergé par Audiomeans. Visitez audiomeans.fr/politique-de-confidentialite pour plus d'informations.

En 2015, le Newcastle en Angleterre a organisé le Numbers Festival, un festival de mathématiques. Pas très fun sur le papier, mais à cette occasion, ils ont demandé aux 10 000 participants quel était leur chiffre préféré. 12,6% d'entre eux ont répondu le chiffre 7, le plaçant en tête des chiffres cités. Mais d'où vient cette connotation ? Dans quel domaine est-il particulièrement considéré comme chanceux ? Pourquoi est-ce particulièrement le cas en Occident ? Écoutez la suite de cet épisode de "Maintenant vous savez". Un podcast Bababam Originals, écrit et réalisé par Antonella Francini. Première diffusion : août 2023 À écouter aussi : ⁠Êtes-vous "ambiverti.e" ?⁠ ⁠Les règles agissent-elles vraiment sur l'humeur ?⁠ ⁠Pourquoi la jeune génération paraît-elle plus âgée qu'avant ?⁠ Retrouvez tous les épisodes de ⁠"Maintenant vous savez".⁠ Suivez Bababam sur ⁠Instagram⁠. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Après le scandale des poupées sexuelles disponibles sur la plateforme de e-commerce Shein, le patron de l'enseigne du BHV, Frédéric Merlin, a annoncé sur RTL "avoir songé à renoncer à cette collaboration" avec le géant asiatique. Écoutez l'interview de Quentin Ruffat, porte-parole de Shein en France.Hébergé par Audiomeans. Visitez audiomeans.fr/politique-de-confidentialite pour plus d'informations.

La Rockstar : les morts dans le rock… Les vieux mots qu’on utilise plus assez : Un auditeur va acheter sa boisson à la commission des liqueurs avant d’aller voir une vue au théâtre… Rémi-rock : AC-DC Kim aimerait t’elle mieux avoir un chum qui pue des pieds ou qui pus le swing? On parle du fléau du Costco… Quels sont les ‘’kinks’’ sexuels de Kim, Martin et Rémi? Pense pas croche!!!!

Juan Manuel Valdés, legislador porteño (Union por la ciudad) @jmvaldesre @unionxlaciudad @rosca_casta 4-11-2025

Karina vous dévoile les décisions de justice les plus improbables.Hébergé par Audiomeans. Visitez audiomeans.fr/politique-de-confidentialite pour plus d'informations.

… pour sa cuvée " Bob Singlar "

Toutes les réponses à tes questions ! Hébergé par Acast. Visitez acast.com/privacy pour plus d'informations.

Invité : - Andrea Kotarac, Porte-Parole RN et collaborateur parlementaire de Marine le Pen Chroniqueurs : Eric Revel et Sébastien Lignier Hébergé par Audiomeans. Visitez audiomeans.fr/politique-de-confidentialite pour plus d'informations.

A 10h, ce jeudi 30 octobre, les GG :Charles Consigny, avocat, Chirinne Ardakani, avocate spécialisée dans la défense des droits humains, et Emmanuel de Villiers, chef d'entreprise, débattent de : "Police qui tue", le ministre de l'Intérieur porte plainte.

Aujourd'hui, nous allons explorer l'hyperdistribution comme accélérateur de performance publicitaire TV.Trois angles de discussion :comment l'hyperdistribution optimise la portée et la répétition,quels exemples concrets prouvent son efficacité,et comment les marques peuvent l'intégrer dans leurs stratégies media.Pour en débattre :Raphaël Porte de BFM-RMC AdsJean-Baptiste Rouet de Publicis MediaAnne-Sophie Cruque de Biggie Hébergé par Acast. Visitez acast.com/privacy pour plus d'informations.

Halloween over Florence: THE MARKET OF GHOSTSSeverino lived in the bell tower on the hill — the one next to the ancient Basilica of San Miniato al Monte.Every evening, at sunset, he would lock the gate at the base of the entrance stairway and before climbing back up, he would pause to watch Florence color itself amber.And so he did today as well. The tourists had left. Time stopped and silence became sacred again.Through the rusted bars the city stood there motionless — perhaps since forever; with its red roofs, marble facades and the Arno flowing between its stones like a glittering silver ribbon.Domes and towers trembling with light, almost suspended in the air, as if everything and everyone were holding their breath waiting for twilight — and for the night that would cover it with shadows, stars and dreams.One more glance, then he turned on his transistor radio that he had found a few years ago and the notes of Duke Ellington's 'Don't Get Around Much Anymore' filled the autumn evening.Silence may be sacred for the monks, but for Severino music was more so. Seven, his raven, didn't need to be called and at the first notes launched himself from the cypresses of the cemetery above, circled in front of the imposing facade of the Basilica and suddenly glided down along the stairway, to land gently on his left shoulder."Hey Seven, had a good day?""Yes. Could have been worse — Let's settle for that."At which, Severino smiled, turned up the radio's volume and began climbing resolutely toward le Porte del Cielo, while Jazz music echoed among the ancient stones.Nine years ago, on this same day in the month of October, the Olivetan monks residing in the Abbey found a child on the steps of the Basilica.He was there, wrapped in fog, silent as the night, eyes curious as the wind, without name and without past. They called him Severino — I don't know why — and he grew up among prayers and silences. He played in ancient rooms and discovered his world, surrounded by books, tombs, art and mysteries never revealed. At night a raven and a black cat accompanied him, illuminated by the moon, in the Cimitero delle Porte Sante, wandering among imposing crypts and motionless statues that whispered memories and mysteries.But on Halloween nights the whispers transform into screams and endless laments. Secrets manifest themselves, legends become reality, and dreams disguised as nightmares knock on doors lit by candles. And that full moon night was precisely this night: October 31st — and remember, whether you believe in spirits or not, nothing changes: the ghosts will come.And Severino was up there, right there waiting for them to arrive. Leaning out the highest window of the bell tower, calm, looking at Florence from above. While Thelonious Monk's 'Round Midnight' played on his radio, he watched — tapping time with one foot and waited.At the second of the twelve strokes of the midnight bells, something began to happen. On the Arno formed a dense fog that pulsed with spectral green. It began to rise and slide slow but inexorable over the bridges like fingers of cold hands of impatient ghosts. It slid over the Ponte Vecchio and rolled through the streets of Oltrarno until reaching San Niccolò, where it climbed up the hill swallowing everything it found in its path.When it reached the gate of San Miniato, it slipped through the bars and climbed up the stairs until it covered, like a high luminous tide, the entire square in front of the church. It climbed up the marble facade and wrapped also the Cimitero delle Porte Sante, covering the entire hill in a cloak of mystery. Then slowly, as if by enchantment, the fog began to dissolve rising toward the sky and when the last cloud melted into the night air, the square was no longer empty.Small jack-o'-lanterns with flickering lights floated in the air smiling with teeth of fire. Black candles sprouted from nowhere, illuminating spectral stalls full of everything and nothing. Bats that seemed made of paper but were alive fluttered among the lights with wings of black velvet, while autumn leaves danced without wind, sparkling with gold and copper. Pumpkins of every shape filled the stands, some carved with funny faces, others covered with silver spiderwebs that shone like threads of moon. Witch hats swirled in the air like flying umbrellas rotating slow on themselves. Roasted chestnuts perfumed the air with cinnamon and mystery, while small dancing skeletons tinkled like ice bells.And finally in the Cimitero delle Porte Sante, the Portal opened. Like every Halloween, for centuries, spirits from all over the world congregated in Florence for their annual meeting. A spectral river of ghosts poured into the square, each heading toward their own stall, and each with their impossible merchandise to sell or trade. The spirits had arrived and Severino observed them from above. A carnival of other worlds, made of sounds, colors and unimaginable stories.The deserted square had transformed into the Market of Ghosts. Stalls kept materializing from nowhere, carved and glowing pumpkins told each other stories of Halloweens past, present and future laughing malicious among the perfumes of lost memories, past centuries, tomorrow's candles and fallen stardust. The sky above the Tuscan hills and above Florence was full of ghosts arriving from everywhere to search for the unfindable. But no human eye could see this spectacle. No one except Severino, who descended from the tower enchanted by that spectacle and immersed himself in the crowd pulsating with otherworldly life. Seven circled above him observing with attentive eyes and cawing a bit nervous. Some ghosts looked at him with curiosity and recognized him. Someone greeted him and many others whispered his name in forgotten languages."There he is," murmured a witch from Prague."The child of time," sighed a Norman knight."He's returned, I told you so." laughed a Caribbean pirate.But Severino paid them no attention because there were ghosts selling: dreams of sleeping dragons, laughter of northern gnomes, tears of mermaids in love, the last breath of dinosaurs, shadows of unicorns. And even fears from past Halloweens — two for the price of one, but only for tonight. The ghost of a pirate who died during a boarding gone not so well shouted: "Storm bottles! Lightning in jars!" A witch from Salem whispered: "Love potions that last three lifetimes…" A medieval knight showed swords that cut fear, A Chinese spirit waved kites that fly into the past.The spectral crowd grew and thickened, laughed and bargained, while Severino walked amazed and fascinated among the impossible stalls of the Halloween Market. Seven cawed restless from above and Eleven, the black cat with orange eyes, jumped from one tent to another not losing sight of a single movement of Severino and the hundreds of souls circling around him.A ghost monk from an era that never existed saw him and smiled at him from behind a stall full of ancient radios adorned with mysterious symbols. Severino approached, fascinated."How wonderful! Do they all work?""Oh yes, certainly" replied the monk. "These transmit on the waves of past, present, and future time. But you don't need to buy one."The other ghosts stopped. They ceased selling, buying and bartering. They looked at Severino with respect and listened to what the collector of frequencies told him."The transistor radio you already have is more special than you think. But to discover its true secrets, you'll have to search in the ancient crypts where everything began."And suddenly the first lights of dawn began to illuminate the sky behind San Miniato with pink. In rush and hurry the ghosts said goodbye flying away in the wind. "Until next Halloween!" They told each other crossing in the sky. The stalls vanished. Lanterns and candles went out. The Market of Ghosts dissolved like a dream.Severino found himself alone in the empty square, Seven on his shoulder and Eleven sitting on the low wallLooking at Florence illuminating itself in the day of All Saints. He observed his old radio with new eyes and from the ancient crypts of San Miniato, something seemed to call him. He turned it on, turned up the volume and descended the stairway in time to Chet Baker's version of 'Autumn Leaves'.It was time to throw open the gate of the Basilica of San Miniato al Monte.___________________We will continue this story.... For now a Happy Halloween to all of you, may you always believe in magic!Story written by Marco Ciappelli for "Stories Under The Stars" Halloween 2025___________________Listen to Severino's Playlist for the songs that accompany this story and subscribe to discover new music with every adventure.

Tous les soirs, Maël Hassani vous livre le concentré de l'actualité du jour, tout en gardant un œil sur les événements à venir avec les Unes de la presse du lendemain. Hébergé par Audiomeans. Visitez audiomeans.fr/politique-de-confidentialite pour plus d'informations.

Halloween over Florence: THE MARKET OF GHOSTSSeverino lived in the bell tower on the hill — the one next to the ancient Basilica of San Miniato al Monte.Every evening, at sunset, he would lock the gate at the base of the entrance stairway and before climbing back up, he would pause to watch Florence color itself amber.And so he did today as well. The tourists had left. Time stopped and silence became sacred again.Through the rusted bars the city stood there motionless — perhaps since forever; with its red roofs, marble facades and the Arno flowing between its stones like a glittering silver ribbon.Domes and towers trembling with light, almost suspended in the air, as if everything and everyone were holding their breath waiting for twilight — and for the night that would cover it with shadows, stars and dreams.One more glance, then he turned on his transistor radio that he had found a few years ago and the notes of Duke Ellington's 'Don't Get Around Much Anymore' filled the autumn evening.Silence may be sacred for the monks, but for Severino music was more so. Seven, his raven, didn't need to be called and at the first notes launched himself from the cypresses of the cemetery above, circled in front of the imposing facade of the Basilica and suddenly glided down along the stairway, to land gently on his left shoulder."Hey Seven, had a good day?""Yes. Could have been worse — Let's settle for that."At which, Severino smiled, turned up the radio's volume and began climbing resolutely toward le Porte del Cielo, while Jazz music echoed among the ancient stones.Nine years ago, on this same day in the month of October, the Olivetan monks residing in the Abbey found a child on the steps of the Basilica.He was there, wrapped in fog, silent as the night, eyes curious as the wind, without name and without past. They called him Severino — I don't know why — and he grew up among prayers and silences. He played in ancient rooms and discovered his world, surrounded by books, tombs, art and mysteries never revealed. At night a raven and a black cat accompanied him, illuminated by the moon, in the Cimitero delle Porte Sante, wandering among imposing crypts and motionless statues that whispered memories and mysteries.But on Halloween nights the whispers transform into screams and endless laments. Secrets manifest themselves, legends become reality, and dreams disguised as nightmares knock on doors lit by candles. And that full moon night was precisely this night: October 31st — and remember, whether you believe in spirits or not, nothing changes: the ghosts will come.And Severino was up there, right there waiting for them to arrive. Leaning out the highest window of the bell tower, calm, looking at Florence from above. While Thelonious Monk's 'Round Midnight' played on his radio, he watched — tapping time with one foot and waited.At the second of the twelve strokes of the midnight bells, something began to happen. On the Arno formed a dense fog that pulsed with spectral green. It began to rise and slide slow but inexorable over the bridges like fingers of cold hands of impatient ghosts. It slid over the Ponte Vecchio and rolled through the streets of Oltrarno until reaching San Niccolò, where it climbed up the hill swallowing everything it found in its path.When it reached the gate of San Miniato, it slipped through the bars and climbed up the stairs until it covered, like a high luminous tide, the entire square in front of the church. It climbed up the marble facade and wrapped also the Cimitero delle Porte Sante, covering the entire hill in a cloak of mystery. Then slowly, as if by enchantment, the fog began to dissolve rising toward the sky and when the last cloud melted into the night air, the square was no longer empty.Small jack-o'-lanterns with flickering lights floated in the air smiling with teeth of fire. Black candles sprouted from nowhere, illuminating spectral stalls full of everything and nothing. Bats that seemed made of paper but were alive fluttered among the lights with wings of black velvet, while autumn leaves danced without wind, sparkling with gold and copper. Pumpkins of every shape filled the stands, some carved with funny faces, others covered with silver spiderwebs that shone like threads of moon. Witch hats swirled in the air like flying umbrellas rotating slow on themselves. Roasted chestnuts perfumed the air with cinnamon and mystery, while small dancing skeletons tinkled like ice bells.And finally in the Cimitero delle Porte Sante, the Portal opened. Like every Halloween, for centuries, spirits from all over the world congregated in Florence for their annual meeting. A spectral river of ghosts poured into the square, each heading toward their own stall, and each with their impossible merchandise to sell or trade. The spirits had arrived and Severino observed them from above. A carnival of other worlds, made of sounds, colors and unimaginable stories.The deserted square had transformed into the Market of Ghosts. Stalls kept materializing from nowhere, carved and glowing pumpkins told each other stories of Halloweens past, present and future laughing malicious among the perfumes of lost memories, past centuries, tomorrow's candles and fallen stardust. The sky above the Tuscan hills and above Florence was full of ghosts arriving from everywhere to search for the unfindable. But no human eye could see this spectacle. No one except Severino, who descended from the tower enchanted by that spectacle and immersed himself in the crowd pulsating with otherworldly life. Seven circled above him observing with attentive eyes and cawing a bit nervous. Some ghosts looked at him with curiosity and recognized him. Someone greeted him and many others whispered his name in forgotten languages."There he is," murmured a witch from Prague."The child of time," sighed a Norman knight."He's returned, I told you so." laughed a Caribbean pirate.But Severino paid them no attention because there were ghosts selling: dreams of sleeping dragons, laughter of northern gnomes, tears of mermaids in love, the last breath of dinosaurs, shadows of unicorns. And even fears from past Halloweens — two for the price of one, but only for tonight. The ghost of a pirate who died during a boarding gone not so well shouted: "Storm bottles! Lightning in jars!" A witch from Salem whispered: "Love potions that last three lifetimes…" A medieval knight showed swords that cut fear, A Chinese spirit waved kites that fly into the past.The spectral crowd grew and thickened, laughed and bargained, while Severino walked amazed and fascinated among the impossible stalls of the Halloween Market. Seven cawed restless from above and Eleven, the black cat with orange eyes, jumped from one tent to another not losing sight of a single movement of Severino and the hundreds of souls circling around him.A ghost monk from an era that never existed saw him and smiled at him from behind a stall full of ancient radios adorned with mysterious symbols. Severino approached, fascinated."How wonderful! Do they all work?""Oh yes, certainly" replied the monk. "These transmit on the waves of past, present, and future time. But you don't need to buy one."The other ghosts stopped. They ceased selling, buying and bartering. They looked at Severino with respect and listened to what the collector of frequencies told him."The transistor radio you already have is more special than you think. But to discover its true secrets, you'll have to search in the ancient crypts where everything began."And suddenly the first lights of dawn began to illuminate the sky behind San Miniato with pink. In rush and hurry the ghosts said goodbye flying away in the wind. "Until next Halloween!" They told each other crossing in the sky. The stalls vanished. Lanterns and candles went out. The Market of Ghosts dissolved like a dream.Severino found himself alone in the empty square, Seven on his shoulder and Eleven sitting on the low wallLooking at Florence illuminating itself in the day of All Saints. He observed his old radio with new eyes and from the ancient crypts of San Miniato, something seemed to call him. He turned it on, turned up the volume and descended the stairway in time to Chet Baker's version of 'Autumn Leaves'.It was time to throw open the gate of the Basilica of San Miniato al Monte.___________________We will continue this story.... For now a Happy Halloween to all of you, may you always believe in magic!Story written by Marco Ciappelli for "Stories Under The Stars" Halloween 2025___________________Listen to Severino's Playlist for the songs that accompany this story and subscribe to discover new music with every adventure.

Tous les soirs, Maël Hassani vous livre le concentré de l'actualité du jour, tout en gardant un œil sur les événements à venir avec les Unes de la presse du lendemain. Hébergé par Audiomeans. Visitez audiomeans.fr/politique-de-confidentialite pour plus d'informations.

Halloween sopra Firenze: IL MERCATO DEI FANTASMISeverino viveva nel campanile sulla collina — quello accanto all'antica Basilica di San Miniato al Monte.Ogni sera, al tramonto, chiudeva a chiave il cancello alla base della scalinata d'ingresso e prima di risalire su, si soffermava ad osservare Firenze colorarsi d'ambra.E così fece anche oggi. I turisti se ne erano andati. Il tempo si fermò e il silenzio tornò sacro.Attraverso le sbarre arrugginite la città stava là immobile — forse da sempre; con i suoi tetti rossi, le facciate di marmo e l'Arno che scorreva fra le sue pietre come uno scintillante nastro argentato. Cupole e torri tremolanti di luce, quasi sospese nell'aria, come se tutto e tutti stessero trattenendo il respiro in attesa del crepuscolo — e della notte che l'avrebbe coperta di ombre, stelle e sogni.Ancora uno sguardo, poi accese la sua radio a transistor che aveva trovato qualche anno fa e le note di 'Don't Get Around Much Anymore' di Duke Ellington riempirono la serata autunnale.Il silenzio sarà sacro per i monaci, ma per Severino la musica lo era di più.Seven, il suo corvo, non si fece chiamare ed alle prime note si lanciò dai cipressi del cimitero sovrastante, volteggiò davanti alla facciata imponente della Basilica e d'improvviso planò in basso lungo la scalinata, per posarsi gentilmente sulla sua spalla sinistra. “Ciao Seven, passata una buona giornata?”“Sì. Poteva andare peggio — Accontentiamoci.” Al che, Severino sorrise, alzò il volume della radio e iniziò a risalire deciso verso le Porte del Cielo, mentre la musica Jazz echeggiava tra le pietre millenarie.Nove anni fa, in questo stesso giorno del mese d'Ottobre, i monaci Olivetani residenti nell'Abbazia trovarono un bambino sui gradini della Basilica.Stava lì, avvolto nella nebbia, silenzioso come la notte, occhi curiosi come il vento — senza nome e senza passato. Lo chiamarono Severino — non so il perché — e crebbe tra preghiere e silenzi. Giocava in stanze antiche e scopriva il suo mondo, circondato da libri, tombe, arte e misteri mai svelati.Di notte un corvo ed un gatto nero lo accompagnavano, illuminati dalla luna,  nel Cimitero Delle Porte Sante, vagando fra cripte imponenti e statue immobili che sussurravano memorie e misteri.Ma nelle notti di Halloween i sussurri si trasformano in grida e lamenti senza fine. Segreti si manifestano, leggende diventano realtà, e sogni mascherati da incubi bussano a porte illuminate da candele. E quella notte di luna piena era proprio questa notte: il 31 d'Ottobre — e ricordati, che tu creda agli spiriti o no, niente cambia: i fantasmi arriveranno.E Severino era lassù, proprio ad aspettare che arrivassero. Affacciato alla finestra più alta del campanile, tranquillo, guardando Firenze dall'alto. Mentre 'Round Midnight' di Thelonious Monk suonava nella sua radio, lui guardava — batteva il tempo con un piede ed aspettava.Al secondo dei dodici rintocchi delle campane di mezzanotte, qualcosa cominciò a succedere. Sull'Arno si formò una nebbia densa che pulsava di verde spettrale. Iniziò a salire e scivolare lenta ma inesorabile sui ponti come dita di mani fredde di fantasmi impazienti.  Scivolava sul Ponte Vecchio e rotolava per le vie d'Oltrarno fino a raggiungere San Niccolò, dove si arrampicava sulla collina inghiottendo tutto ciò che trovava sulla sua strada.Quando raggiunse il cancello di San Miniato, scivolò fra le sbarre e salì lungo le scale fino a coprire, come un'alta marea luminosa, tutto il piazzale antistante la chiesa. Si arrampicò sulla sua facciata di marmo e avvolse anche il cimitero delle Porte Sante, coprendo tutta la collina in un mantello di mistero. Poi lentamente, come per incanto, la nebbia iniziò a dissolversi salendo verso il cielo e quando l'ultima nuvola si sciolse nell'aria notturna, il piazzale non era più vuoto.Piccole jack-o'-lanterns con luci tremolanti galleggiavano nell'aria sorridendo con denti di fuoco. Candele nere spuntavano dal nulla, illuminando bancarelle spettrali colme di tutto e niente. Pipistrelli che sembravano di carta ma che erano vivi volteggiavano tra le luci con ali di velluto nero, mentre foglie d'autunno danzavano senza vento, scintillando d'oro e rame. Zucche di ogni forma riempivano i banchi, alcune intagliate con facce buffe, altre coperte di ragnatele argentate che brillavano come fili di luna. Cappelli da strega volteggiavano nell'aria come ombrelli volanti ruotando lenti su se stessi. Castagne arrostite profumavano l'aria di cannella e mistero, mentre piccoli scheletri danzanti tintinnavano come campanelli di ghiaccio.E finalmente nel cimitero delle Porte Sante, il Portale si aprì. Come ogni Halloween, da secoli, spiriti da tutto il mondo si congregavano a Firenze per il loro incontro annuale. Un fiume spettrale di fantasmi si riversò nel piazzale, ognuno dirigendosi verso la propria bancarella, ed ognuno con le sue mercanzie impossibili da vendere o scambiare.Gli spiriti erano arrivati e Severino li osservava dall'alto. Un carnevale di altri mondi, fatto di suoni, colori e storie inimmaginabili.Il piazzale deserto si era trasformato nel Mercato dei Fantasmi. Bancarelle continuavano a materializzarsi dal nulla, zucche intagliate e lucenti si raccontavano storie di Halloween passati, presenti e futuri ridendo maligne fra i profumi di memorie perdute, secoli passati, candele di domani e polvere di stelle cadute.Il cielo sopra le colline toscane e sopra Firenze era pieno di fantasmi che arrivavano da ogni dove per cercare l'introvabile. Ma nessun occhio umano poteva vedere questo spettacolo. Nessuno eccetto Severino, che scese dalla torre incantato da quello spettacolo e si immerse nella folla pulsante di vita ultraterrena. Seven gli volteggiava sopra osservando con occhi attenti e gracchiando un po' nervoso. Alcuni fantasmi lo guardavano con curiosità e lo riconoscevano. Qualcuno lo salutava e molti altri sussurravano il suo nome in lingue dimenticate."Eccolo," mormorava una strega di Praga. "Il bambino del tempo," sospirava un cavaliere normanno. "È tornato, ve lo dicevo io.” rideva un pirata dei Caraibi.Ma Severino non ci faceva attenzione perché c'erano fantasmi che vendevano: sogni di draghi addormentati, risate di gnomi del nord, lacrime di sirene innamorate, l'ultimo respiro dei dinosauri, ombre di unicorni. E perfino paure di Halloween passati — due al prezzo di uno, ma solo per stanotte. Il fantasma di un pirata morto durante un abbordaggio andato poco bene gridava:"Bottiglie di tempesta! Fulmini in barattolo!"Una strega di Salem sussurrava: “Pozioni d'amore che durano tre vite…”Un cavaliere medievale mostrava spade che tagliano la paura,Uno spirito cinese sventolava aquiloni che volano nel passato.La folla spettrale cresceva e si addensava, rideva e contrattava, mentre Severino camminava stupito e affascinato tra i banchi impossibili del Mercato di Halloween.Seven gracchiava inquieto dall'alto e Eleven, il gatto nero dagli occhi arancioni, saltava da una tenda all'altra non perdendo di vista un singolo movimento di Severino e delle centinaia d'anime che gli giravano intorno.Un monaco fantasma di un'epoca mai esistita lo vide e gli sorrise da dietro una bancarella piena di radio antiche ornate di simboli misteriosi. Severino si avvicinò, affascinato. "Che meraviglia! Funzionano tutte?""Oh sì, certamente" rispose il monaco, ”Queste trasmettono sulle onde del tempo passato, presente, e futuro. Ma tu non hai bisogno di comprarne una."Gli altri fantasmi si fermarono. Smisero di vendere, comprare e barattare. Guardarono Severino con rispetto e ascoltavano quello che gli diceva il collezionista di frequenze."La radio a transistor che hai già è più speciale di quanto credi. Ma per scoprire i suoi veri segreti, dovrai cercare nelle cripte antiche dove tutto ebbe inizio."E all'improvviso le prime luci dell'alba iniziarono a illuminare di rosa il cielo dietro San Miniato. In fretta e furia i fantasmi si salutarono volando via nel vento."Fino al prossimo Halloween!” Si dicevano incrociandosi in cielo.Le bancarelle svanirono. Lanterne e candele si spensero. Il Mercato dei Fantasmi si dissolse come un sogno.Severino si ritrovò solo nel piazzale vuoto, Seven sulla sua spalla e Eleven seduto sul muretto a guardare Firenze che si illuminava nel giorno di OgniSanti. Osservò la sua vecchia radio con occhi nuovi e dalle cripte antiche di San Miniato, qualcosa sembrava chiamarlo. L'accese, alzò il volume e scese la scalinata a tempo di 'Autumn Leaves' nella versione di Chet Baker.Era giunta l'ora di spalancare il cancello della Basilica di San Miniato al Monte.Continueremo questa storia. Per adesso un Buon Halloween a tutti voi, che possiate sempre credere nella magia! Storia scritta da Marco Ciappelli per "Storie Sotto Le Stelle" Halloween 2025Ascolta Severino's Playlist per le canzoni che accompagnano questa storia e iscriviti per scoprire nuove musiche ad ogni avventura.

Invités : - Luc de Roo, directeur de Walibi Rhône-Alpes - Juliette Sabatier, cofondatrice de Tinybird - David Smadja, fondateur du Cabinet Milestone Avocats Hébergé par Audiomeans. Visitez audiomeans.fr/politique-de-confidentialite pour plus d'informations.

Cours audio MP3 de 32 minutes donné par Rav Yihya TEBOUL.

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Ecoutez L'angle éco de François Lenglet du 21 octobre 2025.Hébergé par Audiomeans. Visitez audiomeans.fr/politique-de-confidentialite pour plus d'informations.

Invité : - Patrick Legras : président de la Coordination Rurale des Hauts-de-France et porte-parole de la CR Nationale Chroniqueurs : - Alexandre Devecchio, rédacteur en chef du service débats du Figaro - Georges Fenech, ancien magistrat Hébergé par Audiomeans. Visitez audiomeans.fr/politique-de-confidentialite pour plus d'informations.

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durée : 01:58:58 - Les Matins du samedi - par : Nicolas Herbeaux - Au programme cette semaine : quelles sont les revendications de la première "Mad Pride" en France ? Vivons nous une crise politique ou une crise de régime ? Et en dernière partie, la romancière Samar Yazbek porte les récits des Gazaouis. - réalisation : Jean-Christophe Francis - invités : Anna Baleige Médecin psychiatre et sexologue, docteure en santé publique; Marie-Anne Cohendet Constitutionnaliste, professeure de droit public à Paris I - Panthéon-Sorbonne, spécialiste des institutions de la Ve République; Bastien François Politiste, professeur de science politique à Paris I; Samar Yazbek Journaliste, écrivaine