so says the yellow sign stuck into the ground.
Bounding area, a territory.
marks the last piece of unspoiled beach umbrellas and the smell of suntan oil.
An area where water is more transparent and the sand ever finer, where the few remaining are endangered, surrounded and doomed.
Fifty meters divide the surf and the worn brick building. That building is the place to meet and exchange par excellence, a shelter from storms and from life, the den of lions.
constantly beaten by the breeze, the coast at that point appears to be more candid and pure, free and sparkling ...
... more vital.
Seven in the morning, puff of wind from the north, flat sea.
Files umbrellas closed, even empty parking lots, gulls still around ...
Downtown, little by little, it should be revived.
The gates will open as the drowsy eyelids of surfers still in bed, veterans of last night's fire in the wake of August.
Astinelli, the undisputed master of that kingdom, he opens the curtain and begins to sweep away the sand from the Avenue of honor.
downcast eyes and ears to the sea.
At that time his only companion seems to be the silence, in a language incomprehensible to us mere mortals, to Astinelli reveals the secrets of the ocean.
eight o'clock and the sun stretches its warmth radiating benevolent much appreciated by the beach boys of the coast.
From that moment on, aficionados flock, attracted by the smell of salt and a crescendo in the north. It 's still too early (coffee and donut are still floating in the stomach) for active and so we start with the system's changing rooms and store cell phones and holy pictures in their niches.
Immediately after it is customary to go to the contemplation of filing tables, where the impossible dream of us poor people are kept there, in carbon, paraffin, slides and buttons as if they were alive.
admiring glances, comments ...
... while passing another bit 'of time ...
Up to nine give a hand around. Check equipment and infrastructure. We clean the base of operations and, most importantly, extending the lineup of songs that will be the soundtrack to a promising day.
Rock 'n' roll, melodic punk, hard rock, blues, folk, reggae and ska ...
Genres hot and passionate as the people of the sailing center.
The atmosphere is heated and fauna is multiplying.
The beaches nearby are filled and, in flashes, come to voices and sounds of bustling vastomondo.
Fortunately, our voices and those of the stereo saturate the environment without any difficulty.
Sometimes a break.
include a slice of cake and two shots at beach tennis you can wean the first hours of the morning.
9:00 am.
Time course!
The first students arrive fearful, undecided.
Salaam timidly and dive in the locker room to get ready.
Most are children between seven and twelve years, but are also part my peers and sometimes adults.
After ten minutes the center teems with people.
I enrolled in the circle of sailing require us to bring to shore catamarans and dinghies, the followers of our discipline chatting with each other by observing the movement. Some
sails began to arm and to choose the tables under the eyes Scazzi of us veterans.
The wind turns in the north-east wind, now more tense and defined, the swell will not mount again. Astinelli check with watchful eye the boundaries of its territory, with particular attention to keeping an eye on the cat as it moves towards the shoreline and the movements of hate even more watercraft.
We few followers of his sect drag us to the shed here and there, giving some advice to newcomers.
There is enough wind.
In a few minutes should reflect the lessons.
The little children have just finished preparing the tables and talking excitedly in the shed.
await the arrival of King Astinelli.
The sun now feel much more loyal and come in the locker room. Dressing!
We shrugged off T-shirt and showing off three quarters of the Billabong warm colors and exotic arabesques Rietvield.
Lycra, gloves and shoes: the court of the lord is ready!
We leave the nest one at a time, slowly. Scoglionata with that and sleeping, dozing in the routine by now.
I also go out of the shadows the usual launch and look around.
The glare of the sand does make the eyes become slits, helping to stimulate the appearance of living rider to sea.
The zephyr greek swells the wind sock. The surf becomes more insistent and the shrouds are starting to rattle.
Astinelli sniffs the air and scanning the horizon.
Here comes into the picture!
imperious as ever leaves the office (the oval room of the center) and cracking the ranks of the faithful.
... some look and a few jokes and then devote his full attention to the novices, ankylosed for half an hour under the sun
The little children clutching a thick circle around the teacher lively and perky. The larger and more adults keep their distances without ever missing a syllable of the oracle .
orders, clarifications, explanations ...
Two notes on the wind and current ...
Recommendations ...
After ten minutes of questions students are rushing to shore laboriously dragging boards and sails.
Their voices are increasingly removed, until they are covered by the sounds of the coast.
Then the emperor turns to his vassals.
apace and secure it to the center of our little group slumped to await orders.
rises prominently in his whole figure.
So silhouetted against the sky, Oracle debuted:
"So, guys ... Give me your eyes! Few jerking off, you hear! "
The r fly, slurred speech and a strong emphasis Romagna make him the great orator who says he is!
"Mark and Ziggy go on the boat! Oh ... Take care! Do not make me the crap as last time because I do not want to beg the captaincy again! Is that clear? "
All this is accompanied by a sweeping gesture.
"Crystalline, doctor ..." Answer and go!
According to impose two go to retrieve the boat more hampered and bring them back to shore. Jobs Pallos and often useless.
... in the end it's all talk.
King continues:
"Michael ... Today there remains you here, yesterday it happened to Ricky and then today's your turn! "
Puff low of Micky which to protest.
"Do not break my balls for once! You're always there to complain and never do shit, ugly lazy! Someday I'll put you in the wharf Sweep all with a brush for eyelashes! "
the first hint of a protest by Michele at a glance of the king to put down any attempt at revolt.
"At least I can use the computer? If not I will die of starvation today! "
" Dai goes well ... You can use it, but do not stay there hours or become impotent! " "So now what can you do ... His manhood has already lost to the nuts! "
general giggles.
"Look, no, rather ... Remember to close the office if you leave, ok? ... Mmm ... "
Micky falls in the den.
His hunting day was gone.
Astinelli And then turns to me and Superstar.
mirror to put on his glasses and looks at the sky.
are looking forward to his leadership in trying to break the silence that hid bright lenses his eyes.
The breeze that magical moment frames. Thickened the silence.
Then the lord spoke
"And you two wankers stand upon two tables, give me a hand in the sea!"
SIII! The best job!
Like everything, even the surfer tends to his natural environment: the wave!
quick look of understanding with superstars and start with the sails.
The breeze is too thin to provide some excitement and so we set off on the spectacular Highfly 6 meters of sail, so as to ensure sufficient pressure to avoid being nailed to the shore.
Our boards are lighter and more aggressive. Every time I hold her in his arms to bring along almost feel the vibration, as eager to cut through the waters, to return to being the undisputed queen of the currents.
The students are all already in the water, trapped against the victim or wind swell. Our facilities are waiting on the ground on the shore.
We do stretches his arms and bless us once again.
For a while the salty sea breeze greets us and calls us to himself.
Other glances and hop!
For a good half hour haunt the area where they will remain beginners, bringing them into the canal, giving advice and suggestions.
In their eyes we are as graceful spirits who have learned the secret of that art: the art of harnessing the wind in her arms.
Every so often a more risky maneuver ... Some questions for class ...
Over time, the surging sea and the north-east wind is stronger.
About eleven destroyed some children return to shore, but happy day. Still half an hour and all the followers would leave.
Astinelli, balance the center of the output channel, gives orders aloud. It seems almost a mythological figure, himself the son of Poseidon.
The morning is over now.
E 'over an hour and the last apprentice has returned home. Our lord is coming out from the water and turns to us with his rigorous body language.
TRANSLATION OF DEEDS hysteria ASTINELLI:
- Mo 'go ! - Are you at sea as you like! - Take care, though! -
- Bring on all or you break your arms! - Chiaroooo ?!?!?!? -
TRANSLATION OF DEEDS hysteria of the two:
- Siiiii, hoccapito! - Astinelli ass! - Ass! - Ass who does not say it! - Ass !!!!!!! -
now so that we are the undisputed master of the winds!
Beautiful, shiny parade our sails away from shore.
We keep a couple of feet constantly in a precise and well-defined route. Two plumes red horizon.
The Sun is now at the zenith is fatigue begins to be heard.
One, even the hardened surfer must magna '!
decide to return and take the channel buoys. The wind now take stern, straight shot into the boom it is hard to keep the equipment.
Sometimes the wave is likely to cause us to lose balance and, in those moments, not only our experience makes us venerable chapter miserably amid the waves.
We are almost there.
We are exhausted.
already anticipate a hot shower and the scented flatbread restaurant on the cliff. The energies are no longer on the table and surrender.
But beware!
Guardaguarda Superstar!
Those on the beach ... They are girls! E. .. We are watching Superstar!
Come on then! Boldness! Gagliardi! Proud!
aside the weariness and look beyond the waves, beyond the dunes, over the hills ... We look to the future!
we are about ten meters from the surf but did not descend from the equipment. On the drift pretty! Our horses have to take us into the early sands.
In twenty feet of water the hull begins to scrape the bottom.
With a slight jump jump down and calibrated.
coast to the board runs aground on the shore and the sail falls asleep exhausted under the breath of Aeolus.
All this at a time.
abandon the scarlet jackets on a sunbed, we are preparing to dismantle the windsurfing.
Disarmament and loaded us in his shoulder toward the center.
Let us sure of ourselves in the camp of the girls slowly, weighing our every move.
"What you redo your eyes!" Is our only thought.
Indifference simulated and studied posture.
A cocktail sure to attract attention. Ears strained to hear every whisper and comment.
We are confident of having given twenty seconds to remember!
we depart once again conscious of having contributed to the image of the surfer.
A free-spirited person who lives among the breakers, pampered by the breeze!
A personality different external the traditional tourist traps; who aspires to know all the secrets of the seven seas, and that perhaps one day will finally what they think the waves.
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