The port of Ortona is a lot of things. Departing and arriving vessels loaded with grain, salt, fuel, industrial products. Just think, there's also boatloads of wine. Geezer in a land where the Abruzzo who would flay alive rather than have violated the vineyards and their relative production. The port of Ortona is also used to go jogging, walking, fishing, talking, laughing, eating ice cream, get drunk, take a break by the heat, play beach volleyball , fuck and any other leisure activities / recreation that comes to mind. We are at the end of August and then in late summer. Target seemingly far when it was only in June and the heat was not so unbearable to allow me a few miles of travel. I was thinking just yesterday, when I reached my friends' intent to fish on top, on the south pier. A good ten minutes' walk, and I would have achieved. In the meantime I looked around. I know by heart and yet the landscape is always pleasant: there is a mix of ways that's worth a try. Fog lights reflected on the sea as soon ruffled black, the smell brackish water, sometimes the bad algae in or decomposition of the odd bait fishermen who use fishing as a hobby, the sound of waves on the rocks, the cry worse or the screaming of the gulls away (thankfully) of children playing, engines for ships and fishing boats. It would be interesting take a picture and sample the ambient sound for ten seconds. Too bad only for odors. Those for now you can not capture. Just as an allegory of Dante's entrance to the pier there were two children, one male and one female, and a grazing was telling the other something that had happened. I told as if it were on its or as if he had not know what recommendation not to know as an important character. He said he had a free grenadine. The why and wherefore I have managed incomprehensible, babbling of people, occasions and times. I think it has not even got the girl. Mentre mi allontanavo da questi, che a loro volta si allontanavano da me, ho avuto solo il tempo di capire che poi, lui, il bambino, aveva investito l'euro della granatina risultata gratis, per qualche altra cazzata. Camminando incrociavo e superavo le solite coppiette che si tengono abbracciate per la vita (in tutti i sensi). Ad un ceto punto, li al molo sud, c'è una barriera che impedisce alle autovetture di proseguire oltre. In realtà impedirebbe il passaggio anche ai pedoni, ma è facilmente aggirabile tanto che ti ritrovi dall'altra parte senza neanche accorgertene . Tutti l'aggirano. I fessi però la saltano come fosse la pubblicità dell'olio Cuore e c'è invece gente che afraid to go around and we passed under. A young girl, yesterday we went in like a limbo dancer. Sure, he helped clinging to the iron bar bent back but has run without any problem, rather it was fun. A little later, after the bar was a small group of three or four middle-aged people, maybe they were more "three quarters" of age. The comedian was a gentleman who was talking and laughing, maybe teased a friend in common, but laughing with jokes that I can not remember but I was not even on the slightest smile. I thought then to their children and grenadine, the limbo of the girl and the joke of country gentlemen. One day, in future the child will be shit dicks, problems, choices, troubles, fears and disappointments. Maybe in twenty years that child passengers on the same pier to reflect in solitude and have almost forgot the grenade. That girl will one day be so old that seem never to have been beautiful and athletic. That girl difficult old can do it again from the limbo under that bar. The old men instead have maintained a mannerism and an irony, a comedy of the past and everything changes while they enjoy always with the same mannerisms. What will happen much at all. Today is June and you're making a run on the south pier, perhaps enjoying a nuvoletta che nasconde per un po il sole e domani sei a settembre che hai bisogno di una maglia a maniche lunghe e forse anche di una giacca leggera se vuoi girare ancora di notte sul porto. Poi verrà l'inverno e sarà sempre peggio.
0 comments:
Post a Comment