THE TRAVEL

Friday
January 13, 2012
Island of Giglio
21:45

Close to the eastern coast of the Island of Giglio, off the western coast Italy, it was said that there were no storms or icebergs. They said though the weather was overcast, the Tyrrhenian Sea was calm as a mutherfucker and yet, it was under those conditions that the Costa Concordia, a world class cruise ship under the command of Captain Francesco Schettino, struck a rock and sank to her knees like Monica Lewinsky waxin’ Bill Clinton’s bald avenger in the White House back in ’95! Both events were tragic in a different way.

Huh, there was nothin’ tragic about the Clinton - Lewinsky saga?

I’m sure the Clintons would have somethin’ to say about that. Ah ha!

Anyways, the collision tore a bitch ass gash on the port (left) side of Costa Concordia’s hull, and this almost immediately flooded parts of the engine room which resulted into the loss of power to her propulsion and electrical systems.

With the ship takin’ more water than a thirsty ass nigga stranded in the Sahara desert, she (the ship) drifted back to Giglio Island, where she ran aground about 500 m north of the village of Giglio.

It was said that the evacuation of the 3,229 passengers and the 1,023 crew known to have been aboard the ship took six hours. Thirty two folks died in this disaster.

Sunday
January 13, 2013
05:24

I’d forced my ass off the internet around midnight and for an hour or two, I tried and tried to trick my body into shuttin’ down so I could slip into the unknown and dream of somethin’ nice. You know, the kind of dream where Kim Kardashian sucks on your dick while Lady Gaga begs to lick the sweat off your my cojones, wouldn’t jus’ be nice?

The decision to go sleep early (if sleepin’ after mid night is your kinda early) wasn’t made by me; it was made by the steady poundings in my head. If I didn’t listen to those persistent drummings, I’d pro’ly be headin’ for a Hollywood-style kind of meltdown.

I got about four hours of snooze. Woke up around five thirty feelin’ nothin’, well, that was until I got up to take a leak. The few steps I took to get to the loo brought back those dullin’ beats on the side of my headwith the vengeance of a woman scorned. I quickly did my business and jumped right back into the “warmness” that was waitin’ on me in bed.

As if on cue, maroon 5’s “Sunday Morning” started playin’ on the radio. I hummed along to the tune as I surf the net

Sunday morning Rain is falling is falling

Steal some covers share some skin

Clouds are shrouding us in moments unforgettable

You twist to fit the mold that I am in…

That may be all I need

In darkness, she is all I see

Come and rest your bones with me

Driving slow on Sunday morning

And I never want to leave

07:15

I walked out of our flat in a tight green vest, faded brown drawers and a navy blue towel draped ‘round my neck. It’s a four flat building with two gates; the main gate is manned by a guard (who sleeps more than he guards). The second gate that leads to the flats is rarely used because there are enough parking spaces upfront. The gate is only opened when any of the tenants want to give their rides a good wash; I strolled out the pedestrian part of that gate as I headed to the main gate.

One of the guys that live upstairs was closin’ the gate after the sister had drove out in her Toyota Previa. He said whassup and I say hey. I asked after Sinclair (his younger brother) ‘cause I hadn’t seen his ass in a while and that was when he started tellin’ me about Sinclair’s impendin’ journey to the US. He told me how they’ve arranged for him to travel first to Italy through the island of Giglio before proceedin’ to New York…Sinclair's brother-in-law is a captain.

09:45

I woke again and the rain was still pourin’ down heavily. My thoughts were fogged up; I didn’t know where I was. I shook my head and bam! That stubborn ache in my head from the night before was still there like a stature. I gave the head shakin'another try but this time, i did it  slowly.After gettin' some semblance of reality into my being, I realized the radio on was and it was loud and it was tuned to BBC. A talk show called the Weekend was on…

Outro

Reeeeeeewind!

Let’s back on up to the part where I was hummin’ to the sound of Maroon 5 and surfin’ the net, shall we?

What I left out of the yarn was the part where I fell asleep and dreamt…the whole tale about conversing with the guy about Sinclair travellin’ and shit was all in my dream. They were guys I’d live in the same apartment with back in the 90s!

But what has BBC, my dream and the luxury ship, Costa Concordia gotta do wit all these?

Well, the ship sank on January 13, 2012 and today makes it a year.

Y’all still don’t get the connection?

Hmm, the BBC talk show I told y’all about? They were talkin’ about that tragedy and that kinda sipped into my dream. As for Sinclair and his brother…I haven’t the foggiest idea how they found their way in!

Y’all have a great Monday. Be safe out there and take care of yourselves.