CHAPTER 



HUNTING AND VISITING 



FOR some days, Gigi, Tesfankièl and I were the only ones 

 on Mersa Nasi. Priscilla and Cecco too had gone back to 

 Massawa to put some of the material we had collected in 

 order. They embarked when the Formica called, waved to us 

 and disappeared down the channel. Then the weather got 

 worse. It did not rain but the sky was continually overcast 

 and the air was still, suffocating and oppressive. Only during 

 the night were there some warm, gentle showers. 



The sea was turbid and uninviting, so we decided to take 

 a trip inland with the laudable purpose, apart from that of 

 serious research, of finding some roast dish that would 

 alleviate the boredom of bream and bully beef 



We had lived a long time in Nasi's house without ever 

 stepping in the direction of the vast undulating horizon at 

 our back-door. Sometimes I went up on to the roof of the 

 white house and gazed out for a long time, but there was 

 nothing new or interesting to see, to seek or to know. The 

 landscape did not move and had not moved for years. It was 

 outside space and time. A desert, nothing else. And yet one's 

 eyes and one's inarticulate thoughts went out unremittingly 

 into that landscape, waiting for the miracle of some sign of 

 life. The falcons were high overhead and were no part of the 

 dead unmoving landscape. 



