Whispers all around you, the party is merry. The soft music in the background gets gradually louder. A crescendo. A glass, another glass. Ron y miel. Inebriating, amber nectar. Inebriating as the smell of the blooming jasmine, carried along by the warm summer gusts. A crescendo. You meet her gaze – she whispers a couple of words. You spot it – it is Lunfardo. Your forehead drenched with sweat. Salt melts in the sugar of the liquor. The shuffling Gotan rhythm makes you brave, the night and the tango are on your side. A crescendo. Deafening summons. The air gets even hotter. You are aware it will hurt you. Yet you can’t resist. You stand up and head towards the dance floor… her face lights up with a smile that brightens the night… That is all you long for, now.
A warm and sensual perfume. Intense crescendo. Amber nectar.
You are in such a transition area in which the smells of shrubs and the heath mingle intimately (and indistinguishably) with the saline odour of the sea.
You walk cautiously on the rocks of the small pathway leading to the beach, following – almost chasing – the sound of the waves, finding your way through the thick vegetation. It is a narrow and steep pathway.
You touch the branches of the bushes. A bent branch bleeds a dense and sticky resinous liquid, whose strong and bitter odour doesn’t want to leave your skin. And – in front of you – deep blue.The horizon expands and you abandon yourself to the sounds and the view of the
mighty ocean sea.