"And now, ladies and gentlemen, I present the famous escape artists, Krafty Kralefsky and his partner, Slithery Stephanides." "Dear God," said Larry,… - Gerald Durrell

I was just about to call for assistance when, some twenty feet away from me, the sea seemed to part with a gentle swish and gurgle, a gleaming back appeared, gave a deep, satisfied sigh, and sank below the surface again. I had hardly time to recognise it as a porpoise before I found I was right in the midst of them. They rose all around me, sighing luxuriously, their black backs shining as they humped in the moonlight... Heaving and sighing heavily, they played across the bay, and I swam with them, watching fascinated as they rose to the surface, crumpling the water, breathed deeply, and then dived beneath the surface again, leaving only an expanding hoop of foam to mark the spot. Presently, as if obeying a signal, they turned and headed out of the bay towards the distant coast of Albania, and I trod water and watched them go, swimming up the white chain of moonlight, backs agleam as they rose and plunged with heavy ecstasy in the water as warm as fresh milk. Behind them they left a trail of great bubbles that rocked and shone briefly like miniature moons before vanishing under the ripples.

La última vez que vi al Hombre de las Cetonias fue un atardecer, estando yo sentado en un altillo que dominaba el camino. Venía evidentemente de alguna fiesta y había tragado cantidad de vino, pues hacía eses de lado a lado del camino, tocando con la flauta una tonada melancólica. Grité un saludo, y sin volverse me hizo una seña estrafalaria. Al doblar el recodo se silueteó un instante sobre el pálido color lavanda de la tarde. Vi su sombrero andrajoso con las plumas al viento, los abultados bolsillos de su abrigo, las jaulas de mimbre llenas de soñolientas palomas a su espalda, y sobre la cabeza, dando vueltas y más vueltas a lo tonto, los puntitos minúsculos de las cetonias. Torció entonces la esquina y no quedó sino el cielo pálido con una luna nueva suspendida como una pluma de plata y el blando gorjeo de su flauta perdiéndose en el crepúsculo lejano.

They were maps that lived, maps that one could study, frown over, and add to; maps, in short, that really meant something.