Maybe that way he’d get confused and I’d gain a few meters, but naval superstitions discourage it as it’s a challenge to the wind. And because maybe I’ll stop a cab by mistake.

Brainwave! I’ll use a light ship. That Lime will be perfect. The rules prohibit driving electric scooters on the sidewalk, but I’m a rebel and I surf well on asphalt.

This works! One down on the port side, another on the starboard side. “Crazy!” a lady shouts at me, “Crazy for you!” I say back, blowing a kiss.

I decide to paddle with my foot to rev up the engine of my metal boat, and then I start catching up with HIM. Suddenly, my prey stops before turning the corner and peers in the other direction.

What is he up to? He was following someone! And I thought I was  the daredevil... Ha!

I would have to end the pursuit soon. As soon as I get ahead and  discover who  this  pirate  drinks  the  seas  for, I’ll get  a  good  story  out  of  this  whole  adventure. Discovering Blackbeard, I’ll call it.

Sometimes you just realise you’ve had a bad idea. That last shot of Jäger, being honest with your ex, or not checking  the brakes of the scooter before following someone at full speed, to name just a few.

When I’m passing him, without braking and at a crazy pace, I try turning my head to find out who his prey was, but the speed of my infernal contraption prevents me from doing so and

I only have a second to decide what to do: let go of the scooter and keep running, leaving the electric kraken without control; throw myself to the ground, scooter included,

and letting the friction of my bones against the ground brake in a naturally painful way; get sucked into the gypsy-green hedge I had in front of me.

I drink coffees blacker than the ace of spades, I make up stories about people without asking for their permission, I follow pirates until I discover their secrets...

One thing’s clear with that cover letter: I choose to take life face-on.

The scooter flies over my head and I end up trapped in the leafy bushes. A dignified fall. Only my dignity and I have been wounded. Just as long as no-one has recorded a boomerang.

A hand stretches out from the sky offering me help. “Sorry, I was following you and I saw what you did. It was fucking awesome! Are you OK?”

The stunned cabin boy I stumbled upon as I left the café was there, closing the circle of hunted hunters.

Lying between the branches of my improvised mattress, I look up at the sky for a minute, sigh and the penny finally drops: we are all full of stories  waiting to be discovered. All you need to go after them.

As the poet once said:  sailor...  captain...  don’t be afraid to be shipwrecked  for the treasure we seek, captain,  is not in the bosom of the port,  but at the bottom of the sea.