Happy birthday Nick. In Bali.

Again greetings in this travel, but between Italians this time. It’s not the same. Not yet. See you. See you in Padua. See you in Padua ? The bus goes slow in the night. The lights of Darwin flow away, wait for me the airport, another travel, another country, another continent, different flavors, smells, colors. The old let the place to the new but there isn’t emotion, just present, moment that follows moment. I’ll try to immerse myself deeply this time, as I didn’t here. Someone waits for me already to let me feel at home. I’d like that we give this opportunity. I wanna more.

One of my last days in Darwin, just awake someone came into my 12-beds room and I thought “what hell is doing my mum in my room ?” How many years back I was ? Jokes of the maria or the fever ?

Bali shot me as a stone. Sun, roads without signs in the middle of nowhere and then Kuta, a cloud of pollution and crazy scooter on streets without reference points, a labyrinth of alleys and at the end the surf. Kuta is famous for this. Australians, Germans, people from everywhere come to Kuta to surf, stay lazy on the beach, do late in the locals and shopping in the alleys. There isn’t the tourist office or I don’t know where is it. There are the Indonesian guys. Do you need something ? They bring you there. Some of them for friendship, some for interest, it works like this. There is just to contract a bit. Usually I have the 30% so I guess it’s possible have the 50% or more in the most of the cases. The simple people can’t do special price for the tourists, they have only the truth in his mouth.

I love simplicity. I don’t mean the banality, the poorness of ideas. I mean essentiality, a paint in black and white, pure gold got by the philosophical stone, having, being all I really need, and just a bit more, to share with the others. I’d be happy like this.

While I was getting lost myself again and again wandered the narrow streets of Bali and found the rice fields as in Japanese cartoons, I fantasized about stopping to talk to a beautiful risaiola with long blacks and smooth hair and then make love under a palm tree, unconscious. Unconscious?

It's like this. There is so much beauty in the world. More I go ahead on this trip and the more I feel less and less to know who they are, i feel just one element of the landscape, being part of something much bigger than me. Yet I find it hard. Difficulty with English, with the reports, sometimes I feel invisible, off, confusing, boring, incapable of love. Like Pirandello, I have the pleasure of the truth. I do not need to flaunt a smile through gritted teeth, to make me believe that I'm having a good time. It's a school, among the thousands of theories, I try to not lose the lesson, the positive side.

If you stay in port, you know what to expect. To learn to surf you have to go out to open sea. There are plenty of maps to follow but I have to find mine. You can find storms, pirates, treasure islands, calm or wind.
I will learn to sail. The sea will hear my voice, and He will not give me anything that I can't deal with. The sea will listen me, and I will listen to you, and me and the sea we will be one.

Happy birthday Nick, good wind, good life.