Itchy itchy, scratchy scratchy, oh I got one on my backy….. and now it must DIE! The one thing I can truly say without so much as a regretful moment is this: The one thing I really really do not like, even a little bit, about Italy is the incessant little cretins that go by the name of “mosquito” or if were being all Italian about it … zanzare!
Not only do you look like you need to take your medication when you are found, stern faced, clapping at random points in the space in front of you whilst muttering under your breath but the itching is completely intolerable and either ends in a body covered in self inflicted scratches that make you look like you’ve been run over by a rather determined steam roller or you appear to have suddenly contracted the previous thought of as extinct (is this the right word?!) disease known as small pox.
A dot to dot all over your body is slowly created and you find yourself wondering how on earth so many of the little flying creatures from hell have had the pleasure of sucking your blood. As the months pres on and the days get hotter, your body seems to become a landing patch for other mosquitoes to come and visit as they suck at your flesh and notice their friend bobby the tiger mosquito has left an enormous tag just next to the one he is currently creating.
At one point during my own mosquito nightmare an acle camp director asked me if I was allergic to the critters as I appeared to be covered in bites and with much concern she plied me with ample amounts of anti-mosquito cream. After pointing out I had already completely covered myself in a deodorant style rolling anti-death fly cream I was presented with concerned views from all Italian mommas around me before insisting it looked worse than it was. This was mostly a lie as the itching is horrendous and consistently annoying but I didn’t want to cause hysteria so thought this the safest option. After surviving several weeks away from the mosquitoes favourite region to hang out and torture as many humans as possible my return to Milan saw my legs suffer with a total of 47 bites in one night, having applied extra mosquito spray and feeling like an anti mosquito beacon, it was at this moment I decided they were my new arch enemy.
As time went on I became rather good at catching and killing mosquitoes with my bare hands, and feeling a near euphoric sense of victory after each kill. This being a notion rather alien to my strict vegetarian, you can’t kill animals mentality, I decided it was perfectly acceptable as they were in fact, along with moths… the creatures from hell itself.
So mosquitoes, next time you are arrogantly buzzing around the room or in fact anywhere near my person, be warned, I am armed and I will attack. You have been warned!
