1
ON THE SHORE1939
‘Africa is a giant riding-stable, the ideal place where one can train and hone the ancient art of horse-riding,’ the General said, shattering the silence.
They were standing by the shore, on the boundless plain. The palm trees, few and far between, looked as if they’d been planted by an invisible hand to mark out paths that knew no end. The General was fond of spending time with Captain Valentini, who was a reserved man and always on the alert, but who carried on the conversation on his own, inside his head, where there was never the bother of having to listen to a reply. What good would it do anyway?
They had been riding for two hours. The sun was oppressive, but a sonorous breeze was rising from the sea (it felt like the plain’s invisible twin, a continuous flowing
