Multiplying Ratio: Part 1. Story of my trip in Corsica, France

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Multiplying Ratio

The first day
The feeling that can give the clay smeared on his face is nothing short of sublime, it penetrates every pore of your skin, and gradually dry every millimeter of epidermis.
At first the sensation of coolness is complete then gradually becomes an almost annoying, and can not wait you can lavartela from his face.
Search in this darkness satisfaction becomes almost a problem of sado-masochistic relationship, because such is the desire to rise from this situation, how to love each one stay.
But now your skin is being stretched to its maximum possible tension, certain that a child be able to dirty oneself in this way would have been great fun, especially going home their beautiful mother.
There was a long time to understand that the journey, the details of logistics, had now been arranged, the ferry was booked, the bicycle was playing for time, it remains only the luggage to be done, alas deciding what it was prepared to leave, and the last to take the train to La Spezia and depart, leaving behind him any problems or memory.
The white ship that brought us to the "Finger Course" was now playing. It was nice to let herself be kissed by the sun and caressed by the wind. If you closed your eyes you could imagine a pretty girl by your side.
This stretch of the trip I had already known, for this reason I decided to start here. I already knew that when we landed at Bastia I could go to sleep in her usual camping on the beach. Then the next day I could start my flight to the other end of Corsica.
The scene that I was living at the table at the pizzeria of the camp, first ravished my curiosity, the other gave me a certain dread. In the table in front of two guys were sitting around the thirties, and they seemed to do quite amused. Their ways largely mirror the kind of person that I consider without feeling, the kind that sooner or later ask you something, that just when you least expect it, we will ask for a cigarette, or else to advance the expense of consumers, who course the day after you return everything, even if it is clear that there will be a next meeting.
They will not hear, is' right in not recognizing this fact themselves, just to better be able to rob another of his feeling, and then fled without taking potersene.
And they know that they can not stop at any station, because each stop would be immediately burned by their inability to live, it is impossible to meet their gaze, because if this happened to read in their eyes all the despair that accompanies them.
The girl who was with them, was about to reach the table, but very explicitly make them understand that his presence was very welcome as the evening before, nell'afosa intimacy of the tent of one of two things probably were somewhat different.
But that was another night of his presence would probably fine later, undaunted she pretended not to understand, then switch back from the bar a few minutes later with his drink, which rests on their table, promptly either, troubled quest'incomprensione from the previous message, took the glass from his hand and pours the contents into the jar of hydrangeas. She then shocked by the thing, but I would also accustomed to these public scenes, looks around searching for a possible ally, and in a first phase is believed to be in the bartender, whose only complication is' in the drink to another in empty glass.
Proud of this conquest, walks in the outdoor area, searching among the few guests, I think I was the only over the two and the bartender, the possible company for the evening.
I wonder if he can join a probable German to my table, I reply somewhat detached, but in the affirmative. After about five minutes of useless French find that it is useless to continue this sad report.
Probably not what had happened that my eyes had seen, I would have been much more willing to exchange small talk with her, even in French useless .... But I think that this would never happen.
The emptiness of my tent was filled with turbid phantoms almost by magic, the pizza eaten three hours before he did nothing but accentuate my thirst. In tents around me could flirt without fear of the past, but fear for the day was huge, and there was nobody here with me in order to demonstrate courage. Li was me and you alone, the rest of us around him could only serve us.
From the shores of the Sea illusions of being able to see the lights of the Tuscan coast, but only the few glimmers of boats for fishing, I kept walking and listening to the sea. The screams of the girl continued to break my silence, but eventually would become quiet.
Sleep took me back to the tent.

The second day
The next day the alarm made me happy, the dawn in that place came from mainland Italy, I brought a smile to my family. I could think of those charming Tuscan hills and tiring that I had seen several times to wrap them involved in them.
When I began my journey the sun had already counted ten, and I hoped that it would be so lenient.
In an hour's walk had already grown to my fine twenty kilometers, and for the load that I had brought along a considerable distance, but gradually I noticed that my average diminished.
Little by little I was sweating my energy seemed almost regenerate, not so much in power, but especially want to continue to sweat.
That stretch of road I was a friend on my right hand without having to divert too much I see the children play at a cottage, with my French always safer to ask them to give me water, appear to be very happy with my request and bring me a drink I have nothing much to tell them not to tell. On another occasion I would stay longer with them and I would definitely have devised a scheme to seduce their attention.
The landscape that I was going through I alcun'emozione excited, everything was too flat.
When the sun had set, I was in the cabin of the Bureau of the camp counting the few francs I had available.
Swimming in the sea heartened tiredness of my body.
I watched sitting in front of my tent in the hope of a furtive smile, almost in front of me had camped the family of Robert, was very beautiful too were cycling, their wine was good but not important, we spent the whole evening to plan a future meeting.

The third day
The next morning I greeted them, I wonder if we'll meet again.
That stretch of coast, as far as I remember, I have reserved a slight climb.
The morning was beautiful, the coast at last began to climb the rocks. In small moments of descent, the light breeze caressing your face, armed with this wonderful smell of brackish
From then on it began my real journey. What had happened until now I already knew what will happen from then on it will be welcomed by me.
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