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The arrival to the island
Aug. 9, late in the evening
The red brick lighthouse, located at the entrance of the ancient volcano and stretching out towards the open sea, gave the welcoming tourists at the port of Ischia by hydrofoil with the last arrival of the day. No one noticed him in the dark of night, nor noticed the bright signal of rotating his lantern. They docked. On board, people, luggage and bags were an inextricable tangle generated by the rush to land and come to the home or to the hotel booked. Trizia could not wait to get a hot shower, dinner and rest. As was tough, now began to feel very tired the day at work and on the go.
Marco on the other hand still had energy to spare and turned to an elderly tourist who clutched to his chest a black and tan puppy. Marco began to pet it on the head. "Beautiful," he whispered and then passing the palm of your hand on the muzzle. The woman and the dog looked at him with the same expression. It was a grin that most amazed alerted, but the minimum necessary to get him to aggressive away. Finally, the hydrofoil touched the pier and all came down to the modern footbridge. Trizia hurried, but he was just a few steps and just stuck with the heel in an iron grate.
Her danger of being she overwhelmed by the advancing mass. She felt helpless and tried to find a solution as quickly as possible. He took off his shoe and turned the heel in the rectangular mesh. She lifted. It was then that she realized that the dock was on the water, and below, between the grids, the sea lapped; now ran and dragged the luxurious suitcase on wheels hell out of interlocking iron scattered on the course. Then she made the way quickly through the crowd and joined the group that was standing on the sidewalk in front of the public gardens overlooking the sea. Trizia took a deep breath, inhaling the humid breeze coming up from the harbor in the warm summer evening. Meanwhile, the taxi scooters, still lined up, pull over to the curb; they were ready to load the group of tourists from transport to hotels across the island. The tourists were restless and eager to get on board. She defended his space between the neighbors crowded. The young companion felt the group, in the tone of voice higher than usual and a little ' hoarse. He had to shout at the airport, bus and port, and then the air conditioning had cooled despite wore knotted around his neck silk handkerchief.
"I recommend, only four per taxi, and" leaned forward and coughed, then cleared his throat," bestowed upon arrival tip the driver, for not offended." Trizia slipped in a quick and slammed his head against the jamb of the vehicle. Taxis, like a carnival parade, along the way busy and chaotic. She looked from the windows. Buses, cars and motorcycles came and went in so much noise and clutter to make them dizzy. Motorcycles from the infernal din sent stench of charred mixture. She hoped he had done well for mid-August. It was well known that where she was direct, places it reached on foot or by silent electric motorcycles. Meanwhile, away from the port, the traffic thinned out. The taxi went along the coast to the street devoid of public lighting. The lights of private homes and the street lamps lit in the streets of the villages attenuated the dark. She found himself in front of a nativity scene like out of season.
More she approached the goal, and more the air was fresh and full of scents of pine, eucalyptus, orange blossom and rosemary. She breathed in deeply and felt his heart rise. She realized that it was too far from nature. At last they came to the goal.
In the black sky, the myriad of bright stars and constellations welcomed him on the steps of the majolica of Vietri luxurious hotel with spa garden. She paused for a moment to look at the sea below. It was cleared by the first quarter of the moon and the wave shattered on the cliff was for her music of infinite joy. A welcome greeting well come. She assured her. She had chosen well. Trizia entered the lobby and walked with the others at the reception desk. The empty stomach was beginning to be felt, had not eaten for several hours.
The hostess was handing the keys of the rooms. This was followed by the list in alphabetical order. It would take the time to question it. The tourists were several and the girl took it calmly. There was still before settling down to wait. She deceived waiting, looking around. The lobby was decorated with refinement. The furniture stood out on the painted majolica floor. The imaginative shapes and decorations in ormolu, not thrilled, but approved the refinement of details. She passed away on display from the small sculptures of marble, set upon pedestals and furniture atrium. They were carved worship, works of a local artist who remained on display for the entire month.
It was then that the young sits next plane went on. She had a fit of nerves: "You cannot even find him here." Not considered a client of the hotel and curious gaze followed him. He crossed the hall, with the supple roundness of her derriere in prominence in jeans. Quickly he disappeared through the glass door that led to the spa park.
She was sure he was pleased with the effect of the sensual movement. Finally, the hostess called her behind her voice reduced to a thin shrill vocalization, the addressed over the garden to the door of the apartment. She would find a label that says: The Bougainvillea. She informed the pairings so everyone knew where they lived the rest. Trizia thought that it was not for nothing elegant violating the confidentiality of the clients.
She leaned forward on his toes to overcome the last of the tourists who had remained firmly anchored to the counter. She reached out, when Marco came to his side and reached for her key. He had the apartment Wisteria. Coincidentally, it was on the same side. They could start with, he suggested. She appreciated him even after a long journey, even when it was clear that he was tired he falls in style. Both eyes were lights marking step of the garden over the bay window arched wrought iron. Trizia accepted, exhausted as she was, she did not feel in opposition. The bellman loaded the suitcases on the cart. They walked in silence.
All In Mid-August Page 6