Every best trip starts with some fog

I will always remember when my best friend offered to bring me in Linate airport even if that meant for us to leave at 3 a.m. and get lost in the fog. I remember it because everytime my best friend offers me lifts it ends up like the best time ever, partying wild or having some stick’n poke tattoos, or facing snowstorms, or him coming one day earlier to pick me up at the airport. I love the fact that even if I meet him always in the same city contests he is a real “wild” person. It always feels like holiday with him. That time He was bringing me to have my first intercontinental flight, alone and a bit scared. I was super nervous and at that time I wasn’t so good in controlling those attacks of extra care and concern about the future, the culture, starvation, pollution, wars and global heating.

We started the trip stopping in every “autogril” (petrol station) like he always loves to do. For him, it doesn’t make sense to have a road trip if you can’t spend money in trash food and stupid things on the way. That is why we almost risked a fine in the middle of the night in the middle of nowhere with nobody in the same parking area for parking in the handicap reserved spot. Once we started to drive we understood that trip was going to be long and I was going to be late. No matter he fought the car couldn’t go any faster than 50 in the highway with that fog. Tracks, of course, had a different opinion of our troubles and they honked at us all time long. Their overtaking was pushing things far, shaking that little car that Gabri calls “scarponcino”, (litterally “ankleboot”) Linate direction signs are millions everywhere, even at the entrance of the highway from Torino kilometers away. Unfortunately, they forgot to put them in the most useful spot, especially when there are work in progress around and you need to exit the highway. We got lost and late of course but I will remember that crazy trip for ever. All night telling stupid sotries and funny things. Telling each other about our clumsy childhood…telling each other secrets that only in a car in the fog in the night you would ever lough about.

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