I arrived to B on a warm late afternoon. After a refreshing stroll around the lower town and then to the hills, I walked up to the piazzetta of confessions – overviewing the sea – where thirty years ago on a sunny morning Elio found the courage to give up his secrets to Oliver, to the palm trees and to the sea-breeze.
Next morning – right after my espresso – I climbed back to the piazzetta to find out how the trees and the breeze still remember that conversation.
“Are you saying what I think you are saying?”
“I told him to follow me, I’d show him a spot most tourists and strangers had never seen.”
Piazza De Amicis by night
“Oliver: Do you know what you’re saying? Elio: Yes, I know what I’m saying and you’re not mistaking any of it. I’m just not very good at speaking.”