E 'for a couple of weeks I hear the birds chirping outside my window. In the courtyard below is a cherry tree in bloom. It all seemed incredible phenomena. I had completely forgotten what it was spring. The sounds, smells, and the first sunny days. I do not know why but I want to take a ride on Lake Garda. One of the few clear memories that my outstanding memory of arteriosclerotic young child is considered a short vacation during Easter in Sirmione, at the age of 8-9 years. I feel even now the scent of Lake in the morning and I still see those bastard swans flapping like crazy when my brothers and I we get to watch them. My spring is almost over, however. Between 17 days I leave for Africa. Have now entered fully into perspective. The trip became real (at last). Yesterday I went to collect the visa at the Embassy Eritrea. That burnt clerk even asked me if I have a light case and I can bring something home. I was not given many details ... should I trust? Consult my life coach Martha.
Last night, however, leaving the cinema, I deviated on quais coasted and the Ile de la Cité to return home. I walked with my head he looked up and saw me already, with suitcase in hand, take the RER B to go to the airport. I'm so happy to leave.
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