usa-krka1 a new knight's order

48 another apothecary in Molfetta wonderful joy-de-vivre and astonishing skillness in finding sea edibles

48 teaches Horacle paddling with a Frenzy suffered but never uttered a word of complaint

he's a retired engineer from Milano.
He's the one I kidnapped from his wife in Elba , if I can use this word for a 66 old boy

30 years old like my youngest. The most serious and seriously affected by poetry of the group. In real life he's an apothecary in Molfetta but forgot his pills against poetry fits.

what is strange is that three of the names have in Italian explicit sexual meanings all related to four letter words Ciaula / Ciula is to f+++, Cazzato / Cazzuto a big c+++, Buttafava / throw your c+++. Most of my Italian readers believe they are fantasy names.

There was also Mr.Fuji the photographer perhaps the best sixth man after Kevin Mc Hale in the golden ages of Boston Celtics and NBA. He also learnt to swim and shot from a clear Aquapak bag.

always exaggerating it was only a candle lamp but it's still better than a light-emitting-diode-frontal while telling stories before bedtime.

There are basically three male morphological types.
Ectomorphs lean never fat made for running and jumping.
Mesomorphs wide shoulder narrow waist made for athletic gestures.
Those with shoulders waist buttock the same measure with a tendency to love handles and life-saving-rings to be fougth all life long. The poor devils of endomorphs.
Let's look the coin on the other side. In evolutionary terms the human race is young and genethic memory doesn't suffer Alzheimer. When the food is scarce the faculty to accumulate fat reserves is favorable.
I did know it I'm "a perfect fat factory " and obviously top class.
Freely re-elaborated from a publication in my gym.

Black attributes are the "must" in naturist resorts formal events. A bordeax butterfly tie and a black spray coating on ....
Absolutely untrue. No way, my fantasy it's always on the run.

It's an odd disguise to shred off all disguises, what's worst is that if you are a fake there are always telltale white patches on your body and make-up can't be easily found among kayak's camping-gear.
Better to use the real naturist and we had one. Guess who, you'll win a virtual rag doll. .

Last week I had in my house in Elba the dinner to found the association between double sitontop kayaks owners and decide the logo for tshirts and baseball caps. We were 18 but I'm pretty good on my 5 feet barbecue.

Mr Fuji simply refused to shot from the other point of view

Don't be afraid, no more mad mathematics like in "Five men in a boat..", we were really five and my multiple personalities were held tight to my phisical self by an aching wrist and a strained backbone.

ME "el conducador" came from the walled city of Lucca with a double hatched Scupper Pro and recovered in "labronica" Piombino Pietro from Milano and temporarily in Elba island with his trolley Explorer . From the "callida" Molfetta were coming Gianni Agostino e Carlo on two Scupper TW ed one Frenzy

Looks like Croatia means bad luck for my camping gear.
Last year my extra-light mattress blew up and now my tent leaks.
I'm rational, it leaks only in the centre, my new inflatable mattress can float, putting a poncho across my middle section I sleep like a log.
But.. do you think that my camping gear, unlike me, considers that aging is a practicable hypothesis ?

There's a problem. The new order is full of no's and there is no way to understand who's a full-fledged member. I had a branding iron made with the logo of OK to use it on the left buttock of the new knigths. The logo of the monkey is too difficult to realize without a tattoo that could be both expensive and not hygienic

When I write an article I don't like to give detailed informations on timing distances organizations costs etc. 'cause I find them boresome if you don't need to go the place I've been. I confine them in another page I won't obviously translate (USA too far).
It's difficoult to explain why I use a spider as a icon. In Italian organization is organizzazione and the first time I wrote those boring details I mispelled the word in oragnizzazione and ragni means spiders. I liked it.

Won't work unless you use medium characters
Two years ago I was "the sit-on-topper in a sit-inside-world" and began my preaching in the desert from this web-site. I have a wonderful future behind me as an advertiser 'cause everybody wants something like the Malibu.

Only a precious few are the trekker type and buy something with hatches, fewer of those few want to use it properly. Two guys from Molfetta contacted me on the web and bought, on my word, without even seeing it two Scupper TW and planned a tour in Croatia. It was the occasion for the "1° Italian SOT meeting", they co-opted a friend and I practically kidnapped another one from Elba and so I can proudly announce that

"A new knight's order is born "

by SHAMELESS GIOANNI

We were five

with a common dream in our heads coming from various parts of Italy and meeting in Ancona to explore and colonize overseas unknown lands. We had no definite program after visiting the fiord of the Krka river up to the waterfalls of Skandisky-buk . Fine but we could not really reach after five hours paddling the falls 'cause it's a national park and only the park-boats are allowed the last 3 miles. My friends were raving but I wisely said that :
"If boats were allowed look at all those stinkingpowerboats and notstinkingbuthugesailingboats no one could even see the falls."
"Rowing or paddling boats are ecological but what about rent-boats no one could even see the falls."

To tell the truth I'm not so wise placid and concerned for the public interest and tried everything to have a special pass. I ingeniously said that "I am pretty, I resemble Sean Connery and tourist would be glad to meet and photograph me." "I am old and it's my last occasion to be happy…" "I was really too good last year ".No way, we got to mingle with the crowd in park-boats but we had a really good time.
We are not saints and we find a restaurant that usually is not opened in the evening 'cause isn't accessible from land but serves us the best meal of the trip before leaving us alone to camp for the nigth and tell stories by the campfire.

All is going too smoothly and I have no means to weigh my fellowes's stamina, I know from other friends relations of kayak-trips in the Kornati that the islands are mainly inhospitable and so I coast the first one on the unprotected side where I'm sure to find really bad reefs. I'm almost too successful and risk an anaphilactic shock . Someone says "Were are the beaches " "Where are the campings" "There's a car perhaps we can land" "Look those boat masts, there must be a marina there.." after no more than two miles.

I'm adamant and with sir. Pietro I try to land on a patch of rock and little trees far from campings and houses. Sir Agostino in a poetry-fit says that there must be a place to camp. Actually I see that there are some well fed middle aged Eves (no fig leafs) and some endomorphic not so young Adams fashionably clad in brown attributes. I'm an experienced traveller and, while I'm wary of young naturists who, with the power of love, endure sitting on spikes, know that this is a certain omen of comfortable places.

I swiftly disguise myself as a naturist not to embarrass and scare the locals and make a recognition finding good places to camp.

We must only wait for the evening and we can ease ourselves .
My Scupper is an old well trained work horse and all by himself climbs on a slipway and secures with a rope on a tree, the others with a Kornati-style landing make a parade on the cliff. Sir Gianni dives and gets sea-urchins for the hors d'oeuvres, he is also astonishingly able to find octopuses clams mussels oysters and other sea edibles.
To temper us we have also a mighty squall of "Neverin" during the night

A blare of trumpets please.
After accurate, and moisty, consideration Me Gioanni having lost on the net a V from my real name Giovanni and knowing that there was a King John Lackland (Giovanni Senza Terra) must loose not only the land but also my pants and so as
"GIOANNI LACKPANTS"
with the sacred "Ainsworth" paddle I ordain new Knights of the "NOSKIRT ORDER"
Sir Agostino Di Ciaula
Sir Gianni Caputo
Sir Carlo Cazzato
Sir Pietro Buttafava
These are the real names and I'm still amazed in havin' been able to convince them to behave like the 12 year boy I am.

The day after this touching ceremony we even find on the next island a shrine in the middle of the sea where we can thank heaven and I fulfill the vow I didn't made two years ago when I started my crusade.
Then it's the old routine: free-camping near a restaurant. sun-baths, snorkeling but three of us must leave a day before me and Pietro. Not to part the company we camp near the loos in a big lager-camp on the too civilized coast near Vodice where to punish ourselves we cook choosing to worst of our supplies (not me of course).
I see that this article is too long and there are clear signs of impatience in the readers so I'll write only the bare rough draft of what I could write.
Flight from the lager
Two old men on a bumble
The problem of maps
Stones
Miracle catch
Wind and rough sea
Assaulted by donkeys
How to choose a camping

Now you want more... nuts .... I'm the King .....

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