Journeys to Bagdad
- 50pagine
- 2 ore di lettura
Are you among those who, at certain times of the year—perhaps in March, with its timid hints of spring, or in October, with winds and vibrant fallen leaves—feel a yearning to escape the mundane tasks of daily life? I count myself among this group. I will share what stirs these feelings in me, starting with a particular scent, a mix of hemp and tar, that captivates my senses. In the city, by the river, there exists a ship chandlery, a place that appears uninviting due to the foul odors of the river and the age-old staleness of the shops. Yet, these smells do not dominate within the chandlery. Initially, all you see is rope—everything from clotheslines to robust cordages destined for the sea, ready to whistle joyfully at their release. The shop is filled with an array of hooks, swivels, blocks, and tackles, creating a chaotic yet fascinating collection of maritime tools, reminiscent of a treasure trove. It feels as if you’ve stumbled upon a piece of "Treasure Island," scattered like a puzzle. Ascending to where sails are crafted, you find sun-weathered sailors, all with pipes, surrounded by the intoxicating aroma of hemp and tar that permeates the air.
