Post by account_disabled on Jan 3, 2024 7:04:16 GMT 2
I spent two hours with that guy, sitting on a bench looking at the sea. The longest two hours of my life. The man spoke slowly, struggling to find the words, more due to the alcohol circulating in his blood than his poor command of English. Every now and then I turned in the hope of seeing someone approaching - my contact - but that island seemed deserted again, so much so that I was almost convinced he could be the person I had to meet. No, it wasn't possible, I thought, she wouldn't have gone on like that and then that Norwegian seemed really authentic or the agent sent by V. should have won the Oscar for that performance. We didn't introduce ourselves. Now that I remember he never told me her name or asked me mine.
He was only interested in my trip and began to give me a series of advice on the "attractions" of the place. He asked for a map of the island – I had taken one on the ferry – and he told me to go and visit the Special Data small island of Silda, which was located to the north-east of the port. “There are no ships that go there and I'm on foot,” I replied. “But it's very beautiful,” he said to me. What do you want, for me to swim there? I wanted to ask him. “Then go and see the mushroom.” You should know that this is one of the tourist attractions of Måløy, a large rock that marine erosion has shaped into a mushroom shape. But it's on the other side of the island, twenty kilometers there and back. «And how do I get there? I don't have a car," I repeated to him. “On foot,” he said calmly.
That's why V. didn't let me carry weapons. He handed me the map back and opened his backpack, taking out a one-and-a-half-liter bottle of Coca Cola, filled with a thick, mud-colored liquid, with a two-centimeter whitish layer at the bottom. « Do you like wine? » " No, thanks ", was my quick and decisive response. If that was wine, I was the Pope. But it seemed so, because the man unscrewed the cap and took a long drink. He said that in Norway wine was very expensive – like everything else, I would have liked to add – and so he made it himself at home. I didn't investigate the ingredients he used. The conversation turned to my trip. He advised me to take the boat to Selje, because it took less time than the bus. It was true. The ferry was at 9pm and would arrive at the island at 10.30pm, while the bus was at 8pm and would arrive at 10pm.
He was only interested in my trip and began to give me a series of advice on the "attractions" of the place. He asked for a map of the island – I had taken one on the ferry – and he told me to go and visit the Special Data small island of Silda, which was located to the north-east of the port. “There are no ships that go there and I'm on foot,” I replied. “But it's very beautiful,” he said to me. What do you want, for me to swim there? I wanted to ask him. “Then go and see the mushroom.” You should know that this is one of the tourist attractions of Måløy, a large rock that marine erosion has shaped into a mushroom shape. But it's on the other side of the island, twenty kilometers there and back. «And how do I get there? I don't have a car," I repeated to him. “On foot,” he said calmly.
That's why V. didn't let me carry weapons. He handed me the map back and opened his backpack, taking out a one-and-a-half-liter bottle of Coca Cola, filled with a thick, mud-colored liquid, with a two-centimeter whitish layer at the bottom. « Do you like wine? » " No, thanks ", was my quick and decisive response. If that was wine, I was the Pope. But it seemed so, because the man unscrewed the cap and took a long drink. He said that in Norway wine was very expensive – like everything else, I would have liked to add – and so he made it himself at home. I didn't investigate the ingredients he used. The conversation turned to my trip. He advised me to take the boat to Selje, because it took less time than the bus. It was true. The ferry was at 9pm and would arrive at the island at 10.30pm, while the bus was at 8pm and would arrive at 10pm.