Airport statues

One thing I haven’t had time to think about here is the culture. I’m sitting in the airport on a little uncomfortable plastic bench surrounded by floodlit replicas of “I giganti di Mont’e Prama”. They are characterful replicas of Iron Age Gods or heroes that were broken into fragments and buried only to be found and dug up in the 1970’s. Sitting with them here reminds me that this strategically well located Mediterranean island has been a hive of human activity dating back to the very early days of humanity.

I’m tired and I’m only going to get a short sleep. Nothing like as bad as Saudi, but this flight gets in just before 11 and then it’s an hour and a half back to the hotel. I’ve been out in the sunshine helping bang in pegs all day. I was fried at five when we all went to the beach and I left my towel and trunks on the rocks. Since then I’ve had a cold shower, a Quattro Stagione and a litre of pineapple juice. The idea of going to sleep is somehow extremely appealing, but I can’t do it while I’m driving so it’ll have to wait until about 1am.

So I’ll sit here in this horrible airport. Nobody comes to this little bench by the statues. It would be almost peaceful if there wasn’t an escalator grinding away overhead. I wonder what the culture that made those stone giants would make of us all in this airport, where an advert for a car rental company dwarfs their ancient monoliths. What would they think we are doing?

One thing I imagine I would have in common with those long dead people is that I’m swimming in the sea every day. The water is just perfect right now. There’s a little bay not far from the hotel, and as you get into the warm water, the rocks give way to sand very quickly. There aren’t so many urchins – or I haven’t seen them. I know they’re about though so I’m treading carefully. They are edible, and a local delicacy, so I expect the better attended beaches have none left.

What a perfect time of year to be working in a warm place near the sea. But I’m falling asleep now, fat with pizza and tired from heat and swimming. I’d better go get a coffee from the grumpy man who only takes cash but doesn’t take big notes. It just be late, but with droopy eyes like this I’m a liability without a touch of wake-up juice. It’s only half ten. I’ll be good to sleep at 1…

Author: albarclay

This blog is a work of creative writing. Do not mistake it for truth. All opinions are mine and not that of my numerous employers.

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