Tonight, the hazard gave us a nice encounter at the terrace of a little café, in Halki.

Maurizio is italian, he is 63 years old. Eight years earlier, he opened a restaurant in this village,
named "il basilico". He had not so much experience about it, but in few years his place became
one of the best in Naxos. Today, the crisis, the taxes and the tiredness pushed him to put
everything on question. He invites us, and we spend the evening together, chatting and drinking
the bottles of his cellar.

His friends call him "fishbone". He travelled in India in the seventies, lived in Medellin in Colombia
twenty years ago, and I don't know what else. He speaks italian, english, spanish, greek, french,
portuguese, and I don't know what else. He writes, he paints, he thinks about going back in Italy to write
a method of translation from italian to ancient greek. He is in a financial situation that could
make him loose everything, but he thinks that loosing what you own his also earning a form of freedom.