Part 3/3

14° day: Thursday August 16 th 2001: PANGUITCH-LAS VEGAS.

After the implacable suoneria telephone automatic (by now I hate her) in about ten minutes we are out already for reaching the Bryce. The temperature is terrible (7 degrees). Simona 2 are dressed as a climber in proximity of the peak of the Everest. But the dawn that little time later has admired has repaid the barracks alarm clock and the arctic temperature. The Bryce Canyon is relatively a small park if compared to the other American parks. Me hook to define it a casket full of small jewels. And' very beautiful to see it from the tall one; but a walk of a couple of hours to its inside literally leaves dumbfounded yourself. The nature is without shade of doubt the greatest usual artist. The pointed rocks and you work so much to seem monuments, the throats dug by the water and by the wind, the so intense silence to be become noisy, the woods crossed by small paths and the horizons that put the gizzard; this in few sentences is the seen Bryce Canyon and felt by me. I am convinced that in the places in which he passes or it stays us the to see both less main point of the to feel; a place, a city, a landscape, a mountain or a river if they stay in the heart it is because we have felt something of main point and depth to stay graven inside of us. Toward the 10.30 we end the walk as soon as in time. The heat and hundreds of tourists are taking of assault the park. The being arrived very soon has allowed us to enjoy us these 3 hours in perfect loneliness. Now we leave free field to the hordes of invaders. Resting us in a calm grove near our auto we give a glance to the map to choose the road that will bring us to Las Vegas. We have to return to the Highway 89, to take then the 14 that the mountains crossing will make us reach the highway 15 with which we will reach Las Vegas. Along the road we admire the red canyon (the evening before to the sunset it was something of fantastic), we stop there for some photos to these mountains composed by an earth red fire, really very beautiful. From the Red Canyon we go down toward the 89, we take back in direction Kanab (from where we had arrived), but after some kilometers we take the 14; very beautiful road but, crossing the mountains very slow, we employ in fact more than 2 hours to reach Cedar City. We go down toward the desert of Nevada; to every kilometer the temperature increases. We enter Nevada toward the 14 and the temperature has reached by now 48 degrees (to the morning we were to 7 degrees); to this point also Simona 2 can get away the eider-down. We stop there to eat to Mesquite to around 120 kilometers from Las Vegas. And' immediately clear that find us in the state in which the most greater economic entrances originate from the gambling; in fact we notice with a symptom of uneasiness that Mesquite is a whole casino-restaurants in the mean of the nothing. We choose at random one of them and the pleased surprise they are the prices. As also in Las Vegas the prices to eat are low especially in the enormous present sideboards inside every casino. To their in fact it interests that people go to play and to throw the money in the slots machine. Considering that the price is forfettario (in the sense that once paid you can use yourself what you want), we gobble there as of drinking good fresh beer. Ended the luculliano banquet we start to fear the exit; considering what we have swallowed could also happen us something unpleasant. But we have to arrive to Las Vegas and therefore we face the outside immediately attacked by a warm wind as if we had a phon aimed at the face. We reach in time zero the car and we take back the highway. To half afternoon we are in Las Vegas, immense city toy where they annually arrive more tourists that to Venice (it seems me 40 million a year). In the outskirts there are the residential zones and it appears as a normal city, but the strip is long (the long principal road about ten kilometers that cuts the city in two) that he transforms and it becomes that city full of lights, hotels and casino that all we know for having seen it in thousand of film. We immediately put there to the search of a hotel (to Las Vegas except the weekend it is easy to find a place to sleep seen the immense number of hotels and motel). After having tried in the a pair of hotels we see two rooms in a beautiful motel along the strip Treasure island (a hotel with before an enormous swimming pool with so much of wavy motion turned into an I bring of a Caribbean city where every 4 hours a show develops him with two ships that they fight to hits of gun up to the two sinking of one). We systematize there in the rooms waiting for the sunset hoping that the temperature becomes more acceptable.
The evening, after a walk, we spend it to the Caesar's Palace (hotel-casino enormous servant on the style ancient Rome), first to the sideboard (usual very low prices) and then to play to the casino 20 dollars to head that they will last us around a couple of hours.
Las Vegas is surely a fascinating city in how much only in his kind, but as it regards me it deserves correct a passage of half day to less than not to be maniac of the gambling.
Returning to the motel to spend the night we decide to jump later the visit to the Death anticipated valley for the day in how much the temperature grazes the 50 degrees and we also fears for the estate of the auto. We will continue therefore for the highway 15 crossing the Mojave desert with final destination the Redwood national park.

15° day: Friday August 17 th 2001: LAS VEGAS - FRESNO.

We leave Las Vegas in the first hours of the morning, the temperature is already red hot and attends us a long trip up to the Redwood national park (they are at least 600 kilometers). I put me to the guide hello to face at least 3 hours of desert; after 150 kilometers of nothing and some ghosts town we cross the sleepy town of Barstow where we stop there to make gasoline and for a coffee. Here we have to leave the highway that continues toward Los Angeles and to take the 58. We fear for the estate of the car considering that the temperature doesn't mention to decrease. Only objective is to arrive the first possible at the end of the desert. Finally toward midday we start to see some vegetation, we have in fact overcome by some kilometers the town of Mojave which signals the beginning of the desert that brings the same name. A hour later we overcome a group of hills and we go down in St. Joaquin valley. To Bakersfield we stop there to have lunch; after some search we find a ristorantino inside an attractive villetta where a kind lady proposes us the menù of the day. St. Joaquin valley is a fertile and enormous lowland that extends him from Bakersfield up to Sacrament. Here seem me we have turned the famous series "You great valley" and the film "The perfume of the wild must." And' in this valley that famous Californian wine produces him exported all over the world, without counting the variegated agricultural production. The landscape is similar to our lowland padana, every meter of earth it is cultivated and the traffic is notable. In to turn of few times of trip the landscape it is completely changed. From the slim colors of the desert to the intense green of the lowland. From completely uninhabited and inhospitable zones of the desert of the mojave alternated from sleepy towns, to this laughing valley where the density of population is notable and the towns follow him one after the other and they appear hard-working and productive. We cross for about eighty kilometers the highway 99 up to Visalia for then to take the 198 that it will conduct us to the mountains of the Sierra Nevada. To the entrance the Redwood Park allows us some interdicts; of redwoods not even the shade and the surrounding and scarce landscape of vegetation and burnt by the sun. Do we stop there to the visitor center and do we book the motel to Fresno, the temperature it is deadly and the redwoods where they am? Left again and later at least mezz'ora finally introduces him in front of the eyes the landscape that we waited for there; forests of tall redwoods and fizzy temperature of tall mountain. After having made some standstills we finally reach the general Sherman the greatest living being (83 meters high, 11 of diameter and 31 of circumference) and old of the world (3.000 years). Unfortunately we don't have a lot of time in how much the 18 trails are. We cross the whole general Highway (what it crosses the whole park) up to reach another famous redwood: the general Grant. Some smallest but as many unbelievable. We take a walk in this part of the park; with the dusk to walk in the middle of these giants is an experience not to lose, the sunset it turns the landscape into something transcendental and mystical. More it comes dark and more we are attracted and frightened by this magic place and some timorous ones we take back the road toward the parking lot. We have lived one of the most fascinating and intense moments of this trip, but it is very slow by now and we have to reach Fresno; sadly we start there toward the car reluctant to leave this park abducted by now from his yearning beauty. In the road that goes down to valley we stop there to eat in an isolated but nice restaurant; sees the slow time for the Americans (they are almost the 21.00) they prepare only us some hamburgers. We reach destroyed very slow Fresno after a day massacrante; found the motel we don't see but the bed. Tomorrow it waits us for a day to the Yosemite.

16° day: Saturday August 18 th 2001: Fresno-Modesto

We lift as always there to a terrible hour. After the usual energetic breakfast we direct there in direction Yosemite. I won't stop me as in how much this day is the only one to forget in this trip. The park has disappointed us deeply, perhaps the season was not that correct. We have found a terrible heat, the famous fall was it deprives of water as all the streams. We have asked there if we found us in mountain or still in the desert of Nevada. After a fast lunch in a self service and a fleeting walk in the burnt woods and among streams in low water we have returned to the auto and, after having booked the motel, direct toward Modesto. The arrival before the expectation has finally allowed us to rest before the supper. We finally succeed in satisfying Simona 2 and to eat to the Kentucky fried chichen. To consumed meal the judgment on this chain of restaurants is excellent. Unfortunately only experience will stay in this trip. We succeed in going to sleep to a decent hour had been disappointing however for this day. We put to sleep there with in front of the eyes the Golden gate and the island of Alcatraz; the fogs of S.Francisco wait us, we will finally be tomorrow in that that is universally recognized as the freeeest and cosmopolitan city of the world.

17° -18°-19° day: August 18/19/20 th 2001: Modesto-S.Francisco-Monterrey.

Modesto is a typical city of American province. Great roads that cross him and a to follow him of commercial centers, motel and fast food. The Americans have an unbridled passion for the commercial centers, and as all the American fashions in the last years they also proliferate in Europe. Left Modesto we take the highway that will conduct us to S.Francisco. After a couple of hours eccoci in proximity of the famous bay. We cross the cities of the bay among which Berkeley center of the famous university from which they departed in the years '60 the student revolts of the children of the Beat generation, of that American dream by now enfeebled in the fogs of Frisco. Crossing the Oakland bay bridge we see a S.Francisco completely covered by clouds and fog. Suddenly the 30 and it passes degrees of the preceding days they reduce him in few minutes to around 12 degrees. We will know then from a manager of a cafe that August is one of the worse months. We reach our travelodge to the angle among Van Ness avenue and Lombard street where we will stop there for the first time for two nights. In the 2 departed days in this extraordinary city we have tried to see some everything and the kilometers crossed afoot they have been many, the continuous salts and you go down moreover they have not made ours wander about very restful. Among the whole great cities American this is the only one in which I immediately would come to way of living. Every district is different from the others. From the financial district with his skyscrapers, Chinatown with his mix of East and New Orleans, Castro the district gay whose existence makes unique Frisco to the world, Mission where a pezzettino of Mexico is found, the zone of the I bring in front of the island of Alcatraz with its docks whether to taste fantastic fresh fish and Ghirardelli Square with its factory of good chocolate, and finally North Beach the Italian district where thousand of Italian immigrants to the beginning of the nine hundred arrived; now the most greater part of these have become wealthy and moves to the other zones leaving the place to the Chinese that he is widening to stain of oil from the bordering Chinatown. North beach is an ideal district to dawdle, always very animated and fizzy. Long Columbus avenue, the principal road that crosses the district in diagonal, cafe, restaurants, bakeries and Italian confectioneries are found and, thing inusuale in America, the perfume of the bread feels him as soon as sfornato. In this road we have eaten a good dish of spaghetti in a restaurant managed by a native family of Avellino. Anthony, his head of the family has told us the hard life of the immigrants. They have arrived at the end of the years '60 and the first years have been really hard; they didn't know the English and above all arriving from a lost paesino of the South Italy they have labored not few to integrate in a so complex and variegated society. But with constancy and stubbornness they have overcome all the difficulties until the restaurant to open that all now makes to know to the Americans the true Italian food. We have also known Maurice; mechanic of Trastevere immigrated from almost forty years. he has not lost anything of the dialect romanesco and it shows him informed of the stories political and sporting Italians; it has nostalgia of Italy but he doesn't think about returning us. And' immediately been born a great liking between Diego and he; they are entertained discussing for endless once of kick and politics. Distant as typhus, Diego Juve and Maurice Roma, they have drawn near for the common ideas antiBerlusconiane. Always continuing for Columbus Avenue we cross quite a lot cafes and coffee in Italian style; meeting in the years '50 and '60 of poets and down-and-out novelists that rotated around Kerouac and to the others great of the Beat generation. In front of one of these coffees, the Vesuvius, here is the city lights bookstore. A bookstore to the appearance as the others, but made legendary by the fact to have been open from Ferlinghetti and from the being been the point of meeting of Kerouac, Ginsberg, Burroughs and the other Beat. Next to the bookstore there is a road entitled to Jack Kerouac; it deals with a narrow, dark and malodorous alley, a true sadness, Jack will be turned in the grave. For me it was strange to find me there, in that place where hungry of experiences and bursting with energy, Jack was not the representative and portavoce(come from more parts he comes considerato)di a generation of vagabond dreamers, protesters, cappelloni and drogati. With his books and his life he created from the nothing that generation infiltrating her those ideas of liberty and desperation that didn't have as terminal the years '60 - '70, but that I am more alive than never still today for the one that feels the fortune and the like drawing near to his books. Strange to find me with fifty years of delay attacked by an awful nostalgia of something of ever lived there. with in mind a sea of thoughts: "how much I would have liked to know them." "Jack you come, there is a party, you cannot miss." Seem me to hear its voci.Neglis last years of life, consumed in the alcohol and in the loneliness, Jack estranged from Ginsberg and from the others as risucchiato from that bourgeois part and perbenista of himself (transmitted by his mother) with which had cohabited always and from which had looked for always to run away. With these thoughts I make me go off some photos memory under the insignia of the Jack Kerouac road. And' is an unforgettable day the first one to S.Francisco, also for the climate and the temperature (always terribly low). In the 2 departed days here we have not even seen a ray of sun. Also Chinatown deserves a long walk. And' really a city in the city, rather, a nation inside a city; the Chinese are hard-working and the rather elevated rhythms of job are noticed. Further to an unbelievable number of restaurants, it comes upon us the one myriad of small full full emporiums of oriental trifles, and it is everything very interesting and particular. L' autonomy and the independence of this community it is practically total, they are servants what serves and for them it is not necessary to go out of the district, everything that of which they have need they find him/it to the inside. Certainly it is that they have found in S.Francisco a city (as almost all the great American cities) everything anything else other than dam and open and available racist rather to become more and more multiracial. Our great Italian cities are still very distant from all of this, jealous of his own traditions and mistrustful toward cultures and foreign religions, for an integration of this course they have to still spend many decades. The district of Castro represents the community greater and approved gay of the world. Here "the love that doesn't dare to say his name", to tell it the Oscar Wilde, his own name it howls even it and everything is to the light of the sun, without lie and without shame; a kick to the perbenismo of low ruling league still in all the countries of the world. We have had lunch in an unbelievable place really in the center of the district, both in the roads and inside the place there was no shade of a woman; the only female presences were our three girls. I don't deny that we were quickly initially some embarrassed, but defeated ones the uneasiness we have succeeded in consuming in all calm our meal and to appreciate the exceptionality than we were seeing and living.
Whoever goes to S.Francisco he cannot refuse to cross the Golden Gate, surely the most famous bridge to the world, border between the bay and the open sea. Its red color hacks him on the ocean Pacific and is surely one of the most important symbols of the great American dream. Crossed the bridge we have reached Sausalito, famous suburb of fishermen, but we are stopped only there few minutes because of a terrible and cold wind; however he is not seemed me there was void of particularly interesting. After the second and last night to S.Francisco the morning we are ready for the visit to Alcatraz. Incredibly it is a stupendous day of sun with finally a summer temperature. Arrivals near the Pier 39 waiting for our boat admire from the wharf hundreds of noisy sea lions that they lazily lie waiting for kind homages from the numerous tourists. We take advantage for a photo of it with I bring on I break down him/it and a splendid sun (one of the rarest things to S.Francisco). I have to say that the visit to Alcatraz has been really unforgettable. To the entry they have delivered us the bonnets with recorded in Italian (case onlier than rare) the whole visit in the jail. Following the indications is visited with calm and in deepened way every angle of this legendary place. Unlike as it seems in the various films the jail it is very small, at the most him "guests" they were less than 300. The most interesting places are surely times square that is the fund of the principal corridor with suspended a great clock, the cell of Á. the Capone that is equal to the others but symbolically important. Appalling the "hole" that it was the dark and damp cell where they ended in isolation the most undisciplined; and then the famous courtyard with sight on the bay and on the Golden Gate. He hardly enters it is waited us to cross the cold look of Clint Eastwood. But what has impressed more me is the dimension of the cells mostrosuamente small so much that to go in bed or to move they were had to close the minuscule tavolino that entirely to the water it constituted the whole one I furnish. Toward midday it ends this extraordinary visit and before saying goodbye (or good-bye?) to Frisco we eat some extraordinary sandwiches with crab in one of the a lot of places that the there am long I bring. It ends therefore with the legs under a table our adventure to S.Francisco a city that doesn't forget him and it stays in the heart, so different from our European cities. With his fogs, his roads always in descent and slope, his so different districts one from the other as city in the city; his people with an unbelievable admixture of races enormously distant from our selfish provincialisms. And then the bay that is thrown in the ocean Pacific to mark the end of the great country, stings of departure and at the same time of end of the American dream; to tell it the Keruoac arrived at the end of the frontier doesn't stay whether to return back. We greet Frisco and we direct there toward Monterey taking the mythical highway number 1 that it coasts along the whole ocean from Canada up to the messico. An unusual road with long lines to precipice on the Pacific; the ideal is to cross just her from South North to admire unbelievable precipices and to make a good load of adrenaline. It seems that during his construction it approves the enormous dangerousness for the workers the American government it used thousand of prisoners (a good idea also in Italy). We go down more and more toward South abducted from the beauty of the sceneries and in the late afternoon we stop there in a motel to the outskirts of Monterey. We go to eat in the city of Steinbeck (very beautiful the bust in his memory along the principal road) in an inviting Mexican restaurant in shore to the sea. After a walk we return to the motel; tomorrow it attends us one of the longest tappes up to Los Angeles (more than 500 kilometers).

20° day: Tuesday August 21 st 2001: Monterey-Los Angeles.

After a fast breakfast in motel we depart to the time of Los Angeles, the unbelievable long metropolis more than 150 kilometers. Wanting to enjoy anchors us some ocean we commit the error to continue along the highway 1 instead of taking the highway 101. In quite a lot times we don't cross but few about ten kilometers and unfortunately up to Morrò Bay it is not more possible to take the highway. The natural show continues however up to touch his maximum to Big Sur, perhaps one of the few places to the world in which dense woods connect sea and mountain, the last pines and firs touch the water of the ocean. And here that in the years '50 and '60 were gathered great writers and poets near the villa of Henry Miller. Also Kerouac was sheltered for quite a lot time in this heaven to escape that notoriety that never accepted and he/she wrote one of his last books entitled really Big Sur. He/she anchors along this road nostalgic hitchhikers today they can be seen that with their sacks to hair they reach these places of the memory of a literary epoch irripetibile. Taken the 101 we reach S.Barbara in the late afternoon and we stop there for a walk on the beach. They are around the 5 and it is already desert. We would like to make a bath in the ocean but we discover that water is really icy. In this sea the surfers' heaven (we have seen to hundreds of it along the journey, all waiting for the great wave) to make the bath a long psychological preparation is needed: "it is not cold, it is not cold.."
And' late it is 150 kilometers they still miss us to reach Los Angeles, and we have to find a place to sleep.
Toward the 20 we are crossing one of the bypass roads of Los Angeles. To orientate him is really difficult: the distances are enormous and the impressive traffic. We find not a beautiful motel away from the airport. The zone is not really the maximum one, and to the evening it changes completely the human panorama that is worrisome quantomeno. We eat in a place all anything else other than inviting next to the motel and, tired for the long day and the kilometers just crossed ended we reach ours craved beds. A good rest is necessary, tomorrow we will spend a whole day to the Universal Studios.

21° day: Wednesday August 22 nd 2001: Los Angeles (Universal Studios).

At 8.00 o'clock we are already in front of the gates of the studioses. The ticket is rather salty (35 $) but this is one of the places that cannot be lost. Just entered it is understood to have entered one of the places in which the American pretense touches one of its maximum points. Every angle brings us to the mind film that the history of the cinema has done: from the shark to terminator, passing for Jurassic park, ET and return to the future. We start with that that for me the most interesting part of the day will remain. On board of a trenino on it rubberizes we depart to the discovery of the studioses, those true where the movies are made (in fact from the trenino he cannot be gone down). They alternates external with villages western, America of the years '20, forests and the motel of Psyco. There is the town of Amity villas with a lake where they turned quite a lot scenes of the Shark; and, while we are crossing him/it an enormous shark (what it seems really truth) it attacks opening wide us enormous fauci. We also see then many insides among which a station of the subway that comes completely destroyed because of an earthquake for then to recompose him in few second while we are going. In the rest of the day we turn the whole park without losing us none of the attractions and the shows, a true tour de force, also because for each we have to face long tails. Then eccoci to plough dangerous rapidses on board of a raft in the world giurassico; to cross on a bicycle the extraordinary sceneries of ET. Awful the car back to the future with his virtual trips. Among the shows not to be lost Watergate and the three-dimensional cinema of terminator. And besides these so many other things that make to pass in a lightning the whole day. To the evening we are really destroyed and I have even the fever. Not having tried him/it to San Francisco we want to eat Chinese and we find out really hardly a restaurant some studioses. It will result to be the peggior he/she dines some whole trip, perhaps also because I was badly, but however the Americanized Chinese food is a true schifezza.
We are by now to you drip him of this extraordinary trip, the tiredness of the life on the road makes him feel, but the thought of the return to the life of every day is really terrible and some sadness attacks some each of us. With these thoughts we return to the motel to spend our terz'ultima American night. Tomorrow we will cross the last 200-250 of the ottomilas kilometers in American earth, from Los Angeles to S.Diego, where Friday we will visit the sea park of sea world and Saturday we will take the airplane of the return (Alas!).

22°.,23° and 24° day: 23, 24 and August 25 th 2001: Los-Angeles-S.Diego-Detroit-Amsterdam-Turin.

This is one of the little mornings when we are picked it up really comfortable. So much we have only to reach S.Diego. The melancholy of these last days is also infecting my story that for these two final days it will be particularly laced. After the usual iper-caloric breakfast (the sadness has not leastly notched the usual bestial appetite) and after having crossed another beautiful portion of tangential eccoci around 5 direction S.Diego. Also this street line is really spectacular (especially in the near of Oceanside) and the time is really magnificent. Even if clouded from the fever and in the numbness of the drowsiness I succeed in appreciating an extraordinarily wild nature however.
In the afternoon we reach S.Diego where we grant us a beautiful afternoon of relax. To the evening for the supper we go in a Denny's and after a beautiful walk for S.Diego all to nanna. It waits us for the last American day to the park of Sea World. The day to the park has been very beautiful in particular way from the atmospheric point of view. Exceptional the shows of the dolphins and the orcas; but between aquariums and tubs we have been able to admire a lot of other sea kinds and not. And' undeniable that all these imprisoned animals and used for letting the people amusing they do really an enormous punishment. The day (the last American day) flies away between a show and the other among which a beautiful show of acrobats directly on the water; a mixture of jumps, dives and various mishaps, an unusual sea circus in short. Unfortunately the evening has arrived in hurry and the thought of the last night before returning in our real world he has made us all some saddest. Of this day, perhaps accomplice the fever, a memory some veiled has remained me, and I doesn't even remember me thing we have done the last American evening of ours, but perhaps it is correct this way. And' normal to remember with more work the least pleasant moments; of sure all of a sudden we have gone to sleep, on this fact there are not doubtful as there is not the least doubt that in the late forenoon of Saturday 25 August we have ours despite brought our auto in the parking lot Alamo of the airport of S.Diego; he has been a really painful separation, with it we have crossed 5.000 kilometers crossing marvelous places that will stay in our memoirs. Getting further us with the pulmino I have cast her a last glance, that anonymous car he had become by now symbol of a trip joint at the end; an airplane waited us to bring us home. There are unfortunately moments in which it is desired that a thing never ends; this was one of that moments. This trip very attended he had overcome indeed the expectations; in my life an authentic turn of boa is revealed, for an unbelievable series of following facts that n has changed her definitive way both in negative that in positive, with clean preponderance of the negative one. For these reasons even if in the future as I hope I will take other trips, the symbolic importance of America 2001 make this inimitable and insuperable trip in the good and in the evil.
In a sultry afternoon of Sunday 26 August an airplane of the Klm coming from Amsterdam redelivers real 6 vagabond in Turin and the life back from their adventure, as always it happens after a lot of times of airplane and fused schedule it is found there in a state enough confusionales and darkened, that is fundamental to reduce and to postpone the acceptance of the end of an exceptional period and the resumption of a normal period to mental level (what it corresponds to the 99,9% of our life).


Conclusions: I hope to have succeeded in transferring on this sheet at least a good part of that that has been this trip. My intention was that not to limit me to a cold diary in which crossed sciorinare and places to the stregua of a brochure of trips. I have looked for the more possible to transmit emotions that are the true essence of the trip and the to wander about. The to be succeeds us at least partly it would constitute for me motive for great pride, but the judgment is up to whom will read these pages. I hope besides to have succeeded in transmitting some my immense passion for America, for his roads, his deserts, his contradictions and because however continuous to be symbol of a great dream; and the dreams are necessary for our life as the oxygen for our bellows. Unfortunately the passage of the thoughts and the memoirs from his own head to a white sheet is not what easy to less than to possess the talent of a great writer, therefore I apologize for the sure grammatical errors and of syntax. I believe to have given some profits information however to whom will have the fortune to complete a trip of this kind. My suggestion for all is that to travel for traveling; certain stopped you in the places of tourist interest as monuments, natural parks, great cities and street talking, but you also try to take a road and to go, to go and he/she anchors andare.bruciando inside as an alive fire, you will feel you freeeer than never without schedules and without objective to reach, without nothing of which to realize and without rules to be respected, without regrets and without pains; I believe that this is what each of us dreams every morning before beginning a new and fatiguing day, but as I have already said above the dreams..