enlisted in the winter for an archaeological excavation of an emergency. I remember him well have said no, I remember your words, do not talk, I told you so, so I can not explain how the fuck is that now I'm on the floor of a chamber tomb, dropped a rope ladder a hole in the ceiling, about three meters. to see something, about halfway down the stairs, was attacked a light bulb inside is all wet, but there are at least three degrees higher than outside. the benefits of tufa stone, cool in summer and warm in winter. how many times the crap you've heard it is? however is not true at all, here the temperature is constant throughout the year, is out to change that.
while I dig, I drench the pants on his knees and began to not feel your fingers from the cold. I would gladly talk to anyone but here there is nobody out there and only vincent.
vincent is a type roscio and big, which I think he was a child made him do obelix the school play. They're not really have your eyes smart, vincent, then it is a little talkative and even if you put that is French ... I do not know if I told you about my problem with the French. basically, my problem with the French language as I understand, is that I do not know.
vincent not know Italian, but at the end of his daughters who cares, he's standing in the warmth of your duvet to smoke cigarettes and when I call, vincent, I say, he should just take the rope pulley and pull up the bucket. then it is not just a bucket. is a kind of half metal bin with a handle that is attached to the rope. from full will weigh about forty pounds, stuff that only a well-placed as the French can pull it up. and we must also make the commitment.
fact, a couple of times it has happened that I had called a little ' too fast, vincent, I said, and then I have not had time to grab the bin that he had already started with the first tug, flying literally feet in the air. or at least I guess so, that from here down has only heard a strangled cry of sorts, a large thud and then Vincent spoke of the sea. must come from a fishing family or something like that, vincent, because every time he comes up with the sea I'm here, the sea or something like that, is to say all the time.
in my opinion has convinced me to do it on purpose, just to laugh behind his back, but I I would never, that is, to laugh I laugh But not so mean to him flying to the ground every two to three only to pass the time. Oh well 'maybe I'd do it but he better not say it to him.
while I used to scrape off another clod of earth from the wall with the trowel, then that would be just a small trowel, but if you call her trowel, longer indiana jones, in fact you start to see some kind of incision in the tuff. I work a bit 'close and I understand that this is a sign. when, a few minutes later, it's all clean, there are heart pounding, anxious to understand it and already I feel a new Champollion, the one who understood what the hell they meant those mammozietti in hieroglyphics. well actually he was not even sure he spoke French and Italian, Oh well 'but were different times.
closely to see this graffiti is not it done so well, we read the same but is written over something that I do not know how to interpret. is written, napoleon 1809. and c'azzecca mo Napoleon in an Etruscan tomb? seems like when you go somewhere and, remember, leave us your signature. as if I were to write to me now, louis, 1997, and who the fuck cares that I've been here, maybe some of Napoleon, however, someone cares. maybe my friend at the surface would be glad to see this thing here. vincent, do it, and then I remember with a moment's delay the matter of race.
too late, when I can say something, then he would not understand why so much is in Italian, is already talking about the sea again. when it looks ominous opening, I am his nod to come down and I would explain why, but I can only come to tell him, Champollion Champollion, who, judging from how the obese jumps on the rope ladder, he must have thought that I'm insulting his mother. the fact is that he is so heavy and the lineup we threw himself so much dead weight to the foothold that we had fixed on the surface, assigns and Vincent comes down like a mountain landslide, touching the ground a few inches from me.
sincere thing, looking back, but he is also ridiculous, if not dead in the fall, for sure as soon as you take this thing here and kill me makes me want to pass the laugh. when ten seconds later starts to move, always talking about the sea, I have already on their knees, eyes closed, which pointed to the graffiti, putting this thing in all my hopes of salvation. The giant sits up but does not seem furious I'd like for him, no. even stop to watch and it comforts me a bit '. makes the face to question, we see that even if he knows how to explain this thing here that Napoleon has come to put an autograph in the Etruscan tomb. then approaches, take a trowel, he is the French and then trowel it sounds more exotic, and begins to clean better around. turns out that before the word is written napoleon us something else. the complete sentence is alive Napoleon, 1809. vincent chuckles a bit ', and for the first time since we've known, turns to me with complete sentences, I think, as he did in French, and then who knows.
looks around and sees the scale crumpled next to him. we are stuck here, at least until an hour between, at the end of turn, we will take and will help us out. vincent at one point slipped a hand inside his jacket and leaving out one of those metal flasks from an alcoholic, as seen in the old westerns, and I opened it offers, cognac, she says. I like the cognac now and in that situation, you do not know what it was all right a bit 'of alcohol in the body, but with everything that I've done this here, unless he first tasted it, the hell with me there seen drinking. vincet but basically it is a good laugh and understands my concerns is a long quaff sip in solitude, vincent go easy, I tell him that you'll be there definitely fallen into a child, did not understand, eh, vincent? very badly, in fact is something that you do not speak and do not even know it is relaxing. I know that you too think so.
memorable that time when I was a prisoner in an Etruscan tomb in wet the ass on the damp ground, sipping cognac in the company of a great French giant, with a cracked wall in front of the eyes with on the way, living napoleon 1809.
and if anyone is wondering what is the moral, well, it's easy, never go to a place where you can not get a drink. you never know what might be necessary to a good primer.
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