CAPÍTULO I: FOREST WOOD
I look at my watch and see that it’s 18:45. I’ve just landed at Nomad Coast Airport and I feel like I’ve been here before. I take a deep breath and suddenly a thunderous calm washes over me, running through my entire body. I do this every time I land. These past few years, I’ve been backpacking around the world and Nomad Coast is my last stop before I head home. I know there’s something that ties me to this island and I’m going to find out. A few years ago, while we were organizing the basement of my grandfather’s house, I found a box that caught my eye. It was a very old cloth box wrapped in cobwebs. Inside I discovered a necklace of white clay beads worn by time and a letter addressed to my great-grandfather. What was strange was not only the sender, but the address that appeared on the envelope, a place my family had never told me about before:
Old Town, 1, Nomad Coast
As I enter the arrivals area, the first thing I see is the large airport window, from where I can see the city. I can't help but spend a few moments staring in amazement at Nomad Coast, which is covered in an orange sunset. I'm overcome with curiosity to discover what this new place has in store for me.
At the airport, people are coming and going in droves. Some have cheerful faces because they have just arrived on the island; others, on the contrary, are more open about having to leave it, because of the wonderful vacation they must have had. I look for a way to get from the airport to the hostel, which I have booked in a rural area called Forest Wood. I was initially going to book a room in a motel in the Barracuda district; however, I noticed that it did not have very good reviews on the Internet. The hostel room I have chosen is in the middle of nature. When I travel, I always prefer to stay in the most remote and secluded places; this way I can get away from the hustle and bustle of the city. As I leave the arrivals area, I notice a sign showing all the bus connections, including the one I should take: Airport-Forest Wood Bus.
After two long hours, the bus drops me off at the last stop, which is located in the middle of the forest. When I set foot in Forest Wood, I breathe in air that is much cleaner and fresher than that at the airport. The lushness that surrounds the forest is wonderful. In order not to get lost, I turn on my mobile phone and enter the address of the hostel. As I walk, I can see how some brightly colored larks fly and land on the path to hunt some insect that they can see from above. It is the first time I see this species of birds, so I take a photo of them and with the Lens I discover that they are nomadic larks, a family of birds native to the island. Above the trees and in the most intricate places, I distinguish how a slippery civet slides regretfully, which is on the lookout for everything, like a real spy; and suddenly, like a shadow, it disappears from my sight. Along the way, I see some houses that are lost in the middle of nowhere and I imagine what it would be like to live there, among those pleasant places.
After a few minutes on the road, the GPS tells me that I have arrived at my destination. I look up and see what appears to be a horse ranch. The lodge is located within the ranch itself.
I approach and cross the threshold. The first thing I see is a bar, where the restaurant's apparently regular customers are huddled together. They drink non-stop and talk loudly. One of the customers is complaining to another about his football team's poor results. In the corner of the bar, a portly, gigantic man drinks beer with some eagerness, looking from one side to the other without fixing his gaze on any one point. The innkeeper cleans the bar counter in a hurry and one of the customers tells him to bring him a glass of wine and a plate of wild casserole. Apparently, wild casserole is a typical dish of the area. There are no cats at the restaurant's tables. The bar waiter, who is a short, very thin man, looks at me over the frame of his glasses and before he says anything to me, I approach the bar and all the customers huddled at the counter turn their necks in perfect synchrony.
-How can I help you? - the innkeeper asks me.
-I booked a room for two weeks - I answer.
I am about to show him the reservation, the innkeeper makes me sign some papers and gives me the key to my room. I go up to the room where I will spend my nights at Forest Wood, drop my backpack and go back to the restaurant to have dinner. The smell of wild casserole spreads throughout the establishment. I sit down and as the aroma captivates me, I decide to order the local dish. A young woman with short reddish hair and greyish blue eyes passes by me. She smiles at me and approaches me.
-Hello, are you from here?
-No, not at all - I answered - I arrived on the island today. I'm back from a trip.
-Well, they say that Nomad Coast is a place to stay - he tells me.
-I don't think I'll stay, I don't usually fit in - I deny his proposal.
-Well, we'll have to see about that - he answers me defiantly.
He sits next to me as if he's known me all my life and smiles at me again.
-Is this your first time travelling? - he asks me with some curiosity.
-No, I've been doing it for several years. One day I left my house with my backpack and I haven't come back yet - I answer, smiling.
-I think the best journey is to get to know yourself. When you know who you are, you stop looking for where to fit in and you discover that you can belong anywhere - he tells me.
-I agree, it is important to know yourself, that is why I came here - I answer.
-Well, you've made a great decision! -I said-. I'd also love to travel and discover the world out there, but I have a lot of obligations here and it's complicated.
-Well, we are all born with certain circumstances, but we should always try to do what we are passionate about despite the limitations.
-But what about your family? - he asks me. - Don't you have a family?
-Of course I do, but it is no excuse not to go out and discover the world out there.
-Come on, you're a free soul - he tells me.
-In this society it is difficult to be completely free. Nowadays, we live in chains, enclosed in invisible fences. The monotony, selfishness, haste, and voracious consumerism of our society are destructive factors that I try to distance myself from.
The girl looks at me thoughtfully without saying a single word. I look at my watch and realize that it's getting late.
-I would love to continue talking to you, but tomorrow I am planning to go to the mountains and I have to rest - I tell him.
-Sure, no problem. If you need anything, I'll be here - he answers me with a smile.
-Are you staying here too? - I ask him.
-I live here - he answers me.
We say goodbye and I go back to my room. As I lie down on the bed, I realize that I forgot to ask him his name. I grab my phone and plan the route for the next morning.
It's 7:23 in the morning. I wash my face with cold water, look at myself and decide to put on the white bead necklace I found in that mysterious box in my grandfather's basement. I leave the hostel and head to the residential area of Forest Wood. On my way, I see the nomadic larks singing their morning song again and the civets climbing among the trees and rocks, starting a new day of survival in those jungle surroundings.
After a long walk I arrive at a residential area that has the surface of a single avenue. Around the avenue there are old houses that are wide open, there are also cottages that also have a certain primitive feel. Something that surprises me is that there are commercial buildings of all kinds. As I walk along the lonely avenue, the occasional car passes by.
At the end of the road I take the path that leads to Mount Hāmau, which rises a few steps from the village. This mountain is the highest on the entire island and the most popular with tourists visiting Nomad Coast. From nearby, I can see hikers climbing the slopes guided by tour guides, who show the hill in all its full form on those adventure trips. I can also see some mountaineers climbing the steepest and most dangerous parts of the peak. The agile escalators ascend the rock with great skill, with only the attachment of their cabled harnesses. Some climbers ascend more quickly and reach the summit first; others stay behind, but all have the goal of finishing their climb, reaching the top of the mountain by the most rugged path.
I continue along the most thorny and winding paths of the mountain and after ascending, I reach the top. A pleasant fresh breeze surrounds me as I have finished my ascent of the mountain. I am at such a high altitude that I can touch the sky with my own hands. I can see from the distance how to the south there is a village that is surrounded by an immense wall of trees. For a long time I contemplate the horizon, with my eyes fixed on that mysterious village. The views are fascinating and in me, the need arises to know what that endearing town hides. However, it is far away, so far away, that it is difficult to go and visit it. In addition, according to what I read on the signs at the entrance to the route, it is forbidden to go over the mountain and infiltrate the forest near that primitive village. As I was about to go down, I suddenly saw the figure of a pale, emaciated old man, dressed in an old, worn-out tunic over which a long white beard fell down to his feet. Suddenly, the stranger fixed his gaze on my face.
Fear devours me and I am in shock for a few seconds when I see those deep blue eyes. The old man, without looking away, shouts at me:
-Children tun kaidala! Children tun kailada!
-Who are you! Where do you come from? - I exclaimed with some fear.
The strange old man begins to make strange gestures without saying another word. Suddenly he turns around and disappears into the mist that surrounds Mount Hāmau. I have never experienced anything like this before, and I come out of my stupor and start to descend the mountain again.
When I get to the hostel, I see the girl I talked to last night again. I approach her and when she sees me again, she asks me:
-How did it go in the mountains?
-It's really impressive, there are some fabulous views - I answer - By the way, I forgot to ask you your name.
-My name is Monica, Monica Rhodes, and you?
-I don't reveal it to anyone.
Monica is surprised to hear the answer I gave her, and then she tells me again:
-And how would I refer to you?
-Call me Nomad - I answer.
-Okay, Nomad -he says with some surprise.
An involuntary smile emerges from both of us, which sparkles with laughter.
-Hey, would you like to come to the annual surfing competition? You can come with me and my friends, you'll like it.
-Of course! When is it?
-In two hours - he explains - we can go together, the competition is held in a cove to the north, near Forest Wood.
-I have to finish some things, I'll come later - I tell him -. Give me your number and he'll text you when he gets there.
-Great, take note.
Giving me his phone number, he stares at my beaded necklace.
-What's wrong? -I ask him.
-Nothing, nothing, see you there in a little while -he finishes.
After finishing my pending tasks, I leave the hostel again, leaving Forest Wood and heading to the address that Monica Rhodes has sent me.
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