In front of you: the sea. Behind you: Mediterranean scrubland. It is morning.
Act I, Scene 1
You are in an area where the smell of the bushes and the heather is intimately and indissolubly combined with the salty scent of the sea. You walk carefully on the rocks along a small path that leads to the beach, following the sound of the waves, almost chasing after them, making your way through the dense vegetation.
It is a narrow and steep path. You touch the branches of the bushes. A viscous, sticky, resinous liquid bleeds from a broken branch, its strong, bitter odour never leaving your skin. And in front of you, the dark blue sea. The horizon opens up and you surrender to the sound and view of the mighty ocean.
