Month of July, the last decade, fish out the exact date when it would be a difficult task but since I know that without knowing how to sleep tonight anyway, and go over flyover. Twelve students, recent graduates, all at the "magic" high school "Francesco Severi" in Salerno (fifth class Q, due to stress), they decide to celebrate with a week's holiday in a resort now consecrated its maturity. To them (ie us) are in addition two loved "intruders": Flavio, Gabriella's boyfriend at the time (one of three women to our result and the person so dear to me), and Amedeo (for all "the Mesali" - which translates in Italian means "tablecloth" Kitchen - affibbiatogli nickname so that it is simplistic to define genius by a policeman in front of the stage "Arechi" after a search of his backpack before a game of Salerno, who had emerged from the bottom of the bag by Amedeo something like 4:00 to 5:00 sandwiches - for 90 'match seemed to be enough). That trip to Calabria, to which I was thinking from almost two years, was really an exciting, exhilarating, funny, like much of that unforgettable five years experience in high school. Before departure
organize rooms, dividing them into three apartments. The first, for the three girls: the above mentioned Gabriella, Maria (called "the law "for his frequent references in case law, needless to say today is that university faculty members ...) and Alessandra, nice and quiet girl who - back - I can say that if he had lived a little 'not far from our" ditch "school would be certainly been appreciated more. Second apartment, and here I was not able - with the few lines that I have - all the way to render justice to the complexity of the characters. I try. In all there are bungalows: Virginia (nicknamed the "big head", my "colleague" of representative institution in the last year of school, his world Only one copy has been made - and thank goodness! - Do not forget his name because we shall return later), Enzo (at first glance seems to be "the eternal discontent," the man who does not give you ever reason, but knows that if you die with laughter inspired), George (" the Pompele ", this is his last name, is the faithful partner Enzo, the most seraphic and quiet ... except when it begins to practice his favorite sport drink!), John (known as" the accountant "for clothing never out of place, the more so perhaps, the evolution of his personality has been in Rossini's time, a growing boy, generous and always available) and the already mentioned Flavio (nicknamed "Abu" for the darkest complexion and the fact that the excellent Gabry called him to report to bring your bags miss Flavio, excellent dancer of Latin American and stuff - I'm too novice to enter in detail -, was really a slave to the dark continent). And here, finally, we come to my room. As always, the most numerous: a "five-fold with an extra bed," meaning invented by us, of course. The group consists of: Darius (my namesake and "big brother" acquired, a "gentle giant" of one meter and ninety one hundred and thirty pounds - today perhaps something more - life is water polo, where applicable, the body-guard and has a passion for the Armed Forces, although it has decided that there will never), Antonio (another brother to me, a classmate since high school as well as "backyard" living in the same building, harsh nature only in appearance, in reality a well of surprises and fun for a few years we have dubbed "the storyteller" for his ability to invent credibilissime stories never have occurred, is now the police officer), then there is Carmine ("the Gypsy happy," one who does not want to bother or want to receive, live content with small things, a little 'old' in ways of doing but when he is with us is a "pariata"); again, Mario's (the "Saggese," by name, another character of rare reproducibility, more friendly and helpful of a missionary, only flaw is a bit ' general knowledge, especially geography), the aforementioned Mesali (born Amedeo) and finally myself.
So much for the rooms, designed to meet the needs of all. Locally, of course, would then become of everything but do not foresee it as a journey of eighteen neo-mature?! For example, Antonio and Mesali would be slapped on some cookies (in anticipation of what would have been so blatant in a few months a scene is emblematic of the 2003 edition of Big Brother), Enzo would have criticized the fact that Flavio is bought with money plums of EU expenditure, while Dario - to 18.30 every day -, slightly ahead of the common habits of humans, would begin to show signs of imbalance prematurely urging everyone to leave the beach to the battle cry: "Teng 'hungry ... I to Agios kitchen." How wonderful! But it's not the facts themselves, succeeded during our stay at the village, "Little Chief" of Capo Rizzuto, I cared about. Rather, I want to tell you about our trip. And what a trip! Depart on Friday night, two hours from Salerno train station. By train, of course. The licenses are still few and then, honestly, what my father would never hand a child a car that goes on a "place of no return?". At the station, a cure all, there is Mr. Sergio, the father of Darion - Railway Police officer - a person who would be able to make you feel safe even late at night in the alleys of the English Districts Naples. The son, physically, it took from him! I think you get the idea. Virginia, as is normal, is the most dependent of all: he himself with the inevitable "bonghetto" - he is an extraordinary percussionist - and a good dose other "sciartapelle" (so called in our part of the items "futile") as established style. We all feel a bit 'excited for us is a bit' as a first - or maybe, who knows, the last - day of school. The charm, however, breaks down quickly. When we get on the train, in fact, on board ahead of several hundred people, thrown on the floor in the corridors as refugees who are consuming a long agony. We intend to immediately, in short, that it would be just really a true "journey of hope." But what a trip! At first, in vain, looking for a place in the compartments, walking along a couple of coaches. What a tragedy! Fortunately we have something to be happy to climb into the chair because it is now my friend Mesali, which is known to us for a little problem that plagues: he does not see much good. So, banging around in his duffel bag adapted Arena, the Mesali ends up not noticing a man - but I play all nationalities unknown sull'indiana - who was blissfully dozing, stretched out along the corridor. Amedeo (Mesali is always, do not forget) before the trampling a couple of times, then after having suddenly awakened from sleep, slams the suitcase in the face. Why? Because while we are all divided between laughter and shame watching in the face of the poor Indian, Amadeus has not yet noticed anything at all and will be undeterred in its devastating march, stepping over another "alleged" Indian, luckily for him less sleepy than the last. Long live the "level playing field"! In 5:00 to 6:00, we lurk in the only free corner of the train before the bathroom. Our women find refuge in one compartment - magic of being "female" -; Virginio shrivels in the corridor clutching his bonghetto miss was a weanling son, Flavio "will pump" of Latin music and Enzo is a constant complaining against everything and everyone. We, in front of our bathroom, we begin our favorite sport: "Make revolution" someone. I "bresuott" name that defines the Calabrian Darion, are favorite targets. Mesali Meanwhile, lurking right in front of the door that gives access to the bathroom, is ill-treated by passengers who collide on time to go for their needs before the diabolical mind of Antonio gives birth the most brilliant idea of \u200b\u200bthe night before billboard posted the door marked "bathroom out of service" and the comings and goings of people who disturb our peace to go to pee just becomes an ancient memory. Brilliant. The journey is exhausting physically speaking, the bags are our pillows of luck but between continuous and endless jokes Laughter also the dawn of the windows is made of silver (that's Baglioni, Dario not Cioffi) and our goal seems ever closer. The train, stop after stop, it gradually displaced. We come together making a bad night's mini-budget passed in the ground, then the speaker announces our arrival. In the shuttle train from the village we levy - a cost I seem to remember salty - and lead us to the destination. Are 8.30 in the morning, for delivery in the rooms so we still have to wait, so better to put your luggage and immediately plunge in the pool: "So, at least, we rinsed well ..." - so spoke Darion.
organize rooms, dividing them into three apartments. The first, for the three girls: the above mentioned Gabriella, Maria (called "the law "for his frequent references in case law, needless to say today is that university faculty members ...) and Alessandra, nice and quiet girl who - back - I can say that if he had lived a little 'not far from our" ditch "school would be certainly been appreciated more. Second apartment, and here I was not able - with the few lines that I have - all the way to render justice to the complexity of the characters. I try. In all there are bungalows: Virginia (nicknamed the "big head", my "colleague" of representative institution in the last year of school, his world Only one copy has been made - and thank goodness! - Do not forget his name because we shall return later), Enzo (at first glance seems to be "the eternal discontent," the man who does not give you ever reason, but knows that if you die with laughter inspired), George (" the Pompele ", this is his last name, is the faithful partner Enzo, the most seraphic and quiet ... except when it begins to practice his favorite sport drink!), John (known as" the accountant "for clothing never out of place, the more so perhaps, the evolution of his personality has been in Rossini's time, a growing boy, generous and always available) and the already mentioned Flavio (nicknamed "Abu" for the darkest complexion and the fact that the excellent Gabry called him to report to bring your bags miss Flavio, excellent dancer of Latin American and stuff - I'm too novice to enter in detail -, was really a slave to the dark continent). And here, finally, we come to my room. As always, the most numerous: a "five-fold with an extra bed," meaning invented by us, of course. The group consists of: Darius (my namesake and "big brother" acquired, a "gentle giant" of one meter and ninety one hundred and thirty pounds - today perhaps something more - life is water polo, where applicable, the body-guard and has a passion for the Armed Forces, although it has decided that there will never), Antonio (another brother to me, a classmate since high school as well as "backyard" living in the same building, harsh nature only in appearance, in reality a well of surprises and fun for a few years we have dubbed "the storyteller" for his ability to invent credibilissime stories never have occurred, is now the police officer), then there is Carmine ("the Gypsy happy," one who does not want to bother or want to receive, live content with small things, a little 'old' in ways of doing but when he is with us is a "pariata"); again, Mario's (the "Saggese," by name, another character of rare reproducibility, more friendly and helpful of a missionary, only flaw is a bit ' general knowledge, especially geography), the aforementioned Mesali (born Amedeo) and finally myself.
So much for the rooms, designed to meet the needs of all. Locally, of course, would then become of everything but do not foresee it as a journey of eighteen neo-mature?! For example, Antonio and Mesali would be slapped on some cookies (in anticipation of what would have been so blatant in a few months a scene is emblematic of the 2003 edition of Big Brother), Enzo would have criticized the fact that Flavio is bought with money plums of EU expenditure, while Dario - to 18.30 every day -, slightly ahead of the common habits of humans, would begin to show signs of imbalance prematurely urging everyone to leave the beach to the battle cry: "Teng 'hungry ... I to Agios kitchen." How wonderful! But it's not the facts themselves, succeeded during our stay at the village, "Little Chief" of Capo Rizzuto, I cared about. Rather, I want to tell you about our trip. And what a trip! Depart on Friday night, two hours from Salerno train station. By train, of course. The licenses are still few and then, honestly, what my father would never hand a child a car that goes on a "place of no return?". At the station, a cure all, there is Mr. Sergio, the father of Darion - Railway Police officer - a person who would be able to make you feel safe even late at night in the alleys of the English Districts Naples. The son, physically, it took from him! I think you get the idea. Virginia, as is normal, is the most dependent of all: he himself with the inevitable "bonghetto" - he is an extraordinary percussionist - and a good dose other "sciartapelle" (so called in our part of the items "futile") as established style. We all feel a bit 'excited for us is a bit' as a first - or maybe, who knows, the last - day of school. The charm, however, breaks down quickly. When we get on the train, in fact, on board ahead of several hundred people, thrown on the floor in the corridors as refugees who are consuming a long agony. We intend to immediately, in short, that it would be just really a true "journey of hope." But what a trip! At first, in vain, looking for a place in the compartments, walking along a couple of coaches. What a tragedy! Fortunately we have something to be happy to climb into the chair because it is now my friend Mesali, which is known to us for a little problem that plagues: he does not see much good. So, banging around in his duffel bag adapted Arena, the Mesali ends up not noticing a man - but I play all nationalities unknown sull'indiana - who was blissfully dozing, stretched out along the corridor. Amedeo (Mesali is always, do not forget) before the trampling a couple of times, then after having suddenly awakened from sleep, slams the suitcase in the face. Why? Because while we are all divided between laughter and shame watching in the face of the poor Indian, Amadeus has not yet noticed anything at all and will be undeterred in its devastating march, stepping over another "alleged" Indian, luckily for him less sleepy than the last. Long live the "level playing field"! In 5:00 to 6:00, we lurk in the only free corner of the train before the bathroom. Our women find refuge in one compartment - magic of being "female" -; Virginio shrivels in the corridor clutching his bonghetto miss was a weanling son, Flavio "will pump" of Latin music and Enzo is a constant complaining against everything and everyone. We, in front of our bathroom, we begin our favorite sport: "Make revolution" someone. I "bresuott" name that defines the Calabrian Darion, are favorite targets. Mesali Meanwhile, lurking right in front of the door that gives access to the bathroom, is ill-treated by passengers who collide on time to go for their needs before the diabolical mind of Antonio gives birth the most brilliant idea of \u200b\u200bthe night before billboard posted the door marked "bathroom out of service" and the comings and goings of people who disturb our peace to go to pee just becomes an ancient memory. Brilliant. The journey is exhausting physically speaking, the bags are our pillows of luck but between continuous and endless jokes Laughter also the dawn of the windows is made of silver (that's Baglioni, Dario not Cioffi) and our goal seems ever closer. The train, stop after stop, it gradually displaced. We come together making a bad night's mini-budget passed in the ground, then the speaker announces our arrival. In the shuttle train from the village we levy - a cost I seem to remember salty - and lead us to the destination. Are 8.30 in the morning, for delivery in the rooms so we still have to wait, so better to put your luggage and immediately plunge in the pool: "So, at least, we rinsed well ..." - so spoke Darion.
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