The first thing I saw in Paris was the Eiffel Tower.
symbol of an entire city in spite of many other masterpieces of world architecture, and thousands of suggestions made movies, photos and cartoons.
He saw her and was immediately stunned. then had the feeling that it was smaller than expected, and was almost disappointed.
Meanwhile, thousands of shots and flash around in all the languages \u200b\u200bof the world, and quell'impalcatura of metal that attracted him almost like a magnet.
decided to climb and from there over the head was now clearer, as if to her place.
always.
At the same time that Matthew reached the RER station to the Eiffel Tower, Julia drank his first beer in the shadow of the volcano.
Threatening and austere, but it seemed he had something protective, and before the sunset on the sea front, it felt good. He thought of Matthew, for a brief but intense moment, but the sense of pleasure was not disturbed by this flashback, almost benefited from it.
Matthew tower over her, she realized the size of Paris, made the point on the map of what should have seen the next day, and almost managed to navigate the imaginary path that the sacred heart brought him to Notre Dame through the Champs Elysees. She felt that this strange city was not so much. He had once heard that Paris is a bit 'the sum of all the cities, began to suspect that this was not a pure provocation.
It was as if there had been, and knew that we would return. Paris knew the story, or rather of that story in a thousand turns along the boots he had never met. Theorized that Paris was precisely what was missing in Italy. Then you do not know how (considering the nineteenth-century French) and that could happen Rossellini and Fellini were Italian, but still share the beautiful country again. All that is missing, however, in art, culture, history in general ... look for it in Paris, you'll find!
was starting to go down and really thought it was a very romantic city beyond any commonplace. I would have thought at other times during his brief vacation, and almost always trying to think of Martha.
He could not well, however, a girlfriend, because she realized that deep down he did not know much about this girl, and every time he tried to imagine what he was doing, gave up defeated, and the only thing which was long for a cold beer, by drink in that place so special. He thought that he would like smezzarla with Julia, and hurt a bit '.
the morning and ran to see the fishermen on the beach that unravels fish and hopes networks, and the children chose the prawns on the black sand: the larger ones in a basket, and smaller ones in another.
were dealt with swiftly and eternal, and Julia seemed to be a magical thing.
He knew he was in front of a gentle giant, who like to scare the occasional visitors. He understood that the volcano was the heart of the island, an old heart that sometimes has a bump, but it all works out in a puff of black and white stuff that comes out of his mouth up and some more rock rolling down.
He realized that being in front of a great thing and only one that seemed to have run out of "Journey to the Center of the Earth" by Jules Verne. It had been months since
Matthew that he had heard, and now immersed in that landscape, that was her, it seemed that his voice booming from the undertow of the waves, the rustling of the wind.
passed the days in Paris and Matt tried to race to savor the flavors and to memorize the colors. It was a loose cannon, especially in recent days. The hours were not enough anymore.
Taken by the novelty of the city did not have the time and manner of debasement in other nostalgia. Was spending all those who would call a pleasant holiday.
The night before he spent a pleasant evening with some old friends from university days.
times where you "bought trains" and win the World Cup. seems a line from a song by Venditti, but did so more or less seriously.
saw with them the Champions League final.
Once again with the boys shared a moment of considerable importance football. Began to fear that things are not random, that indeed there was a link between football and philosophy, and evidently Baggio was a kind of modern Plato.
Should I ask the boys (which in addition SerieTV-employees are also scholars of philosophy), I think Matt waiting for the subway.
It was then that he thought that was just the final was played in Rome and it was only 11 months ago in that city that he would not miss anything done, let alone a Champions League final. At that period of his life in meters toasted with beer he had bought while waiting.
Before returning home he decided to say farewell to the holiday honoring the symbol of the city, which had taken him down politely.
He sat just below the tower of metal.
course without the dramatic effect of the lights is not that I'm much, nationalist grinned.
was at that precise moment that the Eiffel Tower appeared to him like a volcano oblong, technology, modern.
That must be why it seems familiar, stopped smiling, whispering.
thought of its land, sea, to the lunch on the beach with Martha, on Friday before leaving. He regretted very to have finished the beer, now the toast was proper!
Giulia returning to town he brought with him an energy that could not have thought.
immediately threw down some good ideas for a job she was working on.
did not even know how she does not happen, but he felt that things were going well.
was surprised only that the last time he had done, clearly thought of Matthew. He tried to deepen those thoughts inside her. He decided that he had a shower and preferred a "thought that the surface makes the skin beautiful," sang softly undressing.
Matthew was flying over the Alps, when Julia started the second pass of shampoo.
At that moment the white enveloped them both.
Ps: This story is dedicated to my fellow travelers in France that I have not mentioned, but each made considerzione of Paris and the rest could not be without comparison with each of them. THANK YOU, even accepting the contrarian of the holiday.
is also dedicated to Martha, that the next time there will be.
to Julia and her shampoo chamomile.
the Champions League played at the Olimpico.
rigattieraux friends, especially one year when we remember the spring when we bought a train, hit the winning modiali Snai and, in the shadow of another tower.
raffieaux sicilitude paix
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