Avenged Sevenfold Belt Buckle

The smell of the sea

At one point, as I walked, warmed by the sun warm and welcoming, I felt a warm wind that seemed to know. A perfume that I did not recognize, but I knew to be something of mine, that I belonged ... always.


no one cares or notices it more than the smell of which I had forgotten the fragrance. One of the things that you can not live if you do not live Trapani.

A Trapani, lived in a typical lane of the San Pietro, the former Casalicchio, narrow, shaded by day and dark on the evening, which leads us straight to the sea port in the splendid backdrop of the Dovecote and Egadi. In Trapani, when I went from home I did not think to being embraced by two seas, to be in that area of \u200b\u200bsea that divides the world into two. Never, never, I think I thought about the good fortune to be there. Least I noticed the difference there is between the seats in the air with the sea and those without.

The smell of the sea is much more than a memory or sentimentality. Summarizes a lifestyle of Trapani in every generation and every time ... the first Elimi up to the iPod generation. The sea, the salt, iodine ... the sun, heat, wind ...

It was really fascinating to rediscover that feeling, that warmth, the condition of the soul, able to bring me back to when I left the teenager front door and, without realizing it, I was pampered by the Mare Nostrum. It was fascinating to discover everything in one place so far away physically, but so close to the colors, the smells, the faces of people, images of places and also the flavors. Here, the Mediterranean is the same as the coast of Trapani and Sicily ... I see the light here and headlands of San Cusumano Pizzolungo, the "Zabbar" that dot the road to San Vito, the angry sea, the same Marausa wet, wet cliffs from the sea as Cornino, the faces of fishermen and their boats. The colors of the sea and the blue sky reduplicating of our sites. The faces burnt by the sun are dark like those of old fishermen who see themselves in vintage postcards. After all, we are a bit 'in the Middle East.

And then I felt better. I felt better thinking that warmth, the gentle breeze, the salt water and even those pictures - somehow - told the same emotions of life that had accompanied my ancestors, who were stuck on their skin and who arrived in Sicily, through thousand generations of men and women, had become my own emotions.

Well, first impressions of the country of the cedars are much more than good. The question I ask myself is this though: if this is the land of the cedars ... because there are no cedars, but an infinite banana ?!?!? I will find out.