The north of Italy
My mood was still quite sombre, a couple of days after leaving Twiggy. That girl had really gotten to me. More than I realized.
I knew I had made the right decisions to leave, but it still hurt.
I found myself in an Italian beach town (I can't remember the name of it, for the life of me, but I know it was after Monaco and before viareggio. So take your pick. (Genoa ? I'm just guessing)
I had already found my room for the night, a few hours previously. A nice little place hidden away from the lights, and nestling in the rocks - On the beach, naturally.
I still didn't know how the local (Italian) law enforcement officers reacted to sleeping on the beach yet.
I'm sure I would fine out soon enough.
It was too early to sleep, and wasn't tired in the slightest.
I loved whiling away the hours on beach fronts, just people watching, seeing dramas play out, as an observer.
And there are always pretty girls to look at.
Drinking my scotch that Twiggy had given me, I was nicely humming.
"Hi," Came a voice, next to me.
I turned to look at the person behind the voice. He looked around 300, but only closer inspection, probably around the mid 40's age.
He looked very worn.
"How are you?," He said, in broken English. That was fine by me, as I couldn't speak a word of Italian.
"I'm good, mate, how are you?" I replied. I wasn't looking for a conversation, but not not looking for one, either.
"Is nice here, yes?" He carried on.
Oh well, looks like I was in a conversation.
"Very beautiful," I said. It was. It was a small town, or big village, and quite 'well to do'.
Everything was clean, bright, and a great place for summer nights .
So, we got talking.
Andreas was his name (or something similar.) It turns out he wasn't from here at all.
He was actually from Syria, and a merchant seamen, berthed in the local port. (which I now only really noticed, a few hundred meters away.)
We shared cigarettes, drinks, and stories, and it was all was very cool. He was a really nice guy.
Quite bit drunk later, he said to me "Did you ever want to go to Turkey?"
"I might do, yeah. I never really thought about it, to be honest"
"That's our next stop, after here. Can you cook?" He said.
" I can cook, yeah, I'm a good cook, mate," I replied.
At that time, fried eggs and french fries were about my total experience of cooking, but hey, I was never one for not giving it a go. You can only fail , right?
"We need a cook on our ship. We have a crew of 14, if you think you can do? We can't cook, for shit."
" I can do that mate, no problems". I said. In for a penny, in for a pound, and all that.
"Ok, I need to talk to the captain, to see if he will let you do. I don't think there will be a problem."
He said, " We are going to Turkey, then Syria, then on to Egypt. We can drop you off wherever you like."
Egypt ! Wow!
Egypt had never even been on my horizon. (or Syria, come to think of it).
This was sounding more interesting, by the minute....
"You don't have a pass for going through the port control though, so it could be a problem," He said.
"Ah shit," I said , my dreams of disembarking in some exotic country fading.
"If we can get you on board, it's not a problem at the other ports. It's easy to get off, with a pass. No problem."
With my heart sinking, I was trying to think how I could get on board. I had no bright ideas.
"Can you swim,?" Andreas said, looking at me. "Like a fish," I replied. On this I wasn't exaggerating.
"Well," He said, "If you give me your rucksack to carry through control, you could swim around the perimeter fence, and up the steps, onto the ship. You would be on board!"
I was just drunk enough to find everything a good idea, "Sure , why not?" I replied.
Seemed like a good idea, at the time..Hell, it seemed like an excellent one!
We set off the the waters edge.
I figured out knowing which ladders-onto which ship-to climb up- would be a very good idea.
There was only two, so not too difficult to work out the right ship.
I started taking my clothes off...
to be continued..