8th May Imperia. Hinterland. Night
There is the scent of gorses, the kind that grows in clusters on these hills. Smell of Liguria, rough and good. There are the frogs croaking during the dry and almost warm night, with some far crickets. The little lights scattered in the dark of the hinterland make this place look enchanted and far from everything. And maybe it is.
Roads that keep their soul virgin and wild.
Sex on Fire, Kings of Leon. It was Wouter’s favourite song. I’ve listened to it during the trip. Every time that I hear it I think about him. Four years without him. Tomorrow. Exactly tomorrow. The day of the big start. Cycling is that, it makes everybody feel close, known who is unknown.
There is a necklace of light on the side of the hill that shows the uphill way. Sex on fire. The fire, that’s what scrubs. You would do everything to follow something that burns you inside.
I think about Wouter while I look at the kids with shiny eyes in front of the champions who come out from the Casinò. Someone asks for a quick selfie and I get emotional seeing that their hand trembles while holding the phone. An instant that explains the emotion. Because it’s impossible to say it all with words.
I would like to turn around and tell to the cars which are honking and yelling into the traffic jam that they could stop for a minute and feel the life flowing. The cycling teaches the time. The one of waiting and of real dreams.
There is firefly on a olive’s leaf, it lights up its tummy intermittently. For a while I come back as a child, or maybe a part of me as always been so. Little firefly that comes to remind me to keep looking at the small things to discover their veins, their shades, their sweetness. Goodnight Liguria of the scented gorses growing on the hills bare to the sun. You’re like cycling. So tender and tough. So easy to be loved.
Translated by Martina Meroni.
Original version here → #GIORNIDIGIRO | IMPERIA