An Improbable Life Book Iv: Breakthrough!

By Frasar

Unlike the previous books of the series “FRASAR – An Improbable Life”, Book IV doesn’t have a Prologue describing a series of episodes, taking place around the year 2010. You will find instead the same episodes in Book IV, only this time in their correct chronological order. We should start however from the beginning: who is really Francis, the protagonist of the whole series? Francis is a person who has really existed and is still very active and not an imaginary personage out of a writer's creative mind. All the episodes described in the books actually took place on the dates given and, apart from a few characters whose names were changed or removed for reasons of privacy reasons, all characters are real people.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Dec 16, 2020
• ISBN: 9781665582278

Frasar

If the life of Francis, the hero of the “Improbable Life” saga would be a river it would be bigger than Nile, more thrilling than the Amazon, more fascinating than the Danube, more legendary than the Mississippi and it would run across all continents. After his fascinating adventures in the remote corners of Europe, Australia, New Zealand, Latin America and Saudi Arabia described in the previous books, Book IV will carry the Reader into a dangerous encounter with a serial killer in Bangkok, thrilling discoveries and life at a Taoist monastery on a Sea of China’ island, treasure hunting in the Philippines and a personal, adventurous, encounter with Aung San Suu Kyi the secluded leader of Myanmar (Burma). The action will then move to the remote Pacific Islands of Hawaii, Tahiti and Easter Island, with the discovery of a hidden volcanic cave hiding a stunning, and terrifying, surprise. The narration will continue into the most remote of the Africa continent, from Cape Verde to Mozambique, Nigeria to Angola, Togo to South Africa where we will encounter Nelson Mandela just out of his Robben island’ prison, and share with Francis, among other stories, the excitement of being marooned in an island of the Indian Ocean and the narrow escape from guerrilla fighters in Angola. And finally, the breakthrough!, the discovery of the meaning of life, and what Francis perhaps might encounter next. In another world, maybe in another universe.

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Copyright © 2020 FRASAR. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 12/14/2020

ISBN: 978-1-6655-8225-4 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6655-8226-1 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-6655-8227-8 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2020923224

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Author contact: [e-mail] / [e-mail]

Book Cover photograph of Author by John Currens Photo Inc., Woodcliff Lake, NJ

Front cover illustration by Paolo Puggioni, wwwpaolopuggioni.com

Translated from Italian by the Author and Valentina Sarno www.valentinasarno.com

Book IV of FRASAR - An Improbable Life is

dedicated to

Aung San Suu Kyi, Cory Aquino, Cesaria Evora

and Nelson Mandela, and

to the many personalities -known and unknown-

whose presence in my story

has enriched not only the book,

but my entire life.

CONTENTS

Foreword

Chapter 8 The Asian Years 1985/1991

Venom (Bangkok – 28-29 May 1986}

Manila (2 June 1986 Onwards)

Story From Another Time (17 July V1986)

The Red And The Black (Macao)

Demon Island (Hong Kong, 1987)

Yamashita’ Treasure - Part I

Yamashita’ Treasure - Part Ii (October 1986)

La Dolce Vita (Manila)

The Paracas Archaeological Discovery (Peru – October 1987)

The Rascals (Papua New Guinea, May 1988)

Horror

The Giant

The Return Of The Rascals

A Stroll In Port Moresby

The Beginning Of The End (Manila, 7-15 May 1988)

Typhoon (October 1988)

Zilla, First American Friend (Washington D.c, November 1988)

Cocaine (Manila, August 1989)

Champagne (Brianza, Italy - 8 September 1989)

The Burmese Butterfly (Myanmar, 29-31 May 1990)

Chapter 9 The Pacific Islands

The Wave (Hawaii – June 1990)

The Bite (Tahiti)

Lost Paradise – Easter Island (August 1973)

Rapa Nui – The Origin

Day 1 – Exploration

Day 2 – Mountain Of Wind

Day 3 – The Cave Of Mysteries

Chapters 10 – 11 Africa And North America

The Black Continent (Nigeria, 1992)

The Man With The White Hat (Nigeria, 1992)

Besame Mucho – Cape Verde, 1993

My Friend Nelson Mandela (South Africa, April 1992)

A Quiet Place – (Angola 1994)

The Hell In The Water (Ocean City, August 1996)

The Bonfire (Ethiopia, 4 October 1997)

The Mosquito (Togo, May 1998)

The Island – Mozambique (February 1999)

Dinosaurs’ Kingdom (Lesotho, May 2000)

The Beltway Snipers (Washington, October 2002)

Another Quiet Sunday (Luanda, Angola 2003)

The Wall Of Ice (Taos, New Mexico) March 2004

The Escape (South Sudan, May 2004)

A Pygmy’s Tale (Gabon – October 2006)

Chapter 12 Epilogue

The House Of Mark – Jerusalem (8 March, 2009)

The Tomb – Jerusalem (15 March 2009)

The Curfew

Teutonic Forest

The Roar (19 March 2009, South California)

The Dream (1989 To 2020)

Olney I (Maryland. 1996)

Olney Ii (Maryland) 13 November 2003

New York (Ny, November 2010)

Miami (Florida, November 2017)

Acknowledgments

FOREWORD

In the previous book III of the Series "FRASAR – An Improbable Life"- we left Francis lying on an icy plateau of the Assyrian mountains in Saudi Arabia, waiting for the arrival of the comet Haley. It was the night of the 10th of April 1986 and that will be his last night in Abha, the town in which he had spent several years working on the major construction works of the Assir project. Waiting for the comet proved to be lengthy, and Francis, to pass the time, started to think back to the whole of his improbable life up to that point. And so, he started to see his adventures projected in front of him on the black screen of the sky, like in a Technicolor movie.

His early images were those of the 40s in wartime Italy when as a tiny tot he had been astounded by the sight of Nazi soldiers pouring into his garden at Anagni, a little town near Rome followed by a multitude of images of his youth in the 50s ranging from the dark castle inhabited by ghosts at Sora to his first, emotive, love story in Paris with Anya, the Polish spy and speleological adventures in the abysses in which he risked his life. And then came the 60s with the dangerous gases of Stromboli; the crazy convict with a scythe on his hands in the Elba island, the hungry wolves of the foggy valley of Rovere and the many adventures in strong colors of his early youth, the same that were described in Book 1 of the series. Waiting for the comet to appear, he could see the raging storms of the Black Sea, the scary shadows of a petrified forest in Bulgaria and his being ambushed by Russian soldiers in the Carpathian Mountains.

The images of his life were endless and he could see now his crash landing arrival at the Mc Arthur River pioneer camp in the Northern Territory of Australia, his colorful adventures in the outback as a gold and copper explorer, his surprising discovery of a secret Aboriginal cave, the terrifying bush fire he barely escaped, the cyclone and crocodiles of Borroloola and, just a bit later, the prankster spirits hovering the copper mine of Kuridala, his surprising encounters with snakes, vampires and dingo killers and the discovery of the evil world hovering over of an abandoned penitentiary in Tasmania’s Port Arthur.

There was still no comet on sight, and, on the black screen of the sky, the movie of his life continued endless, still vivid and exciting. He could see himself in the early years of the 70s in New Zealand trying to escape the makutu, the curse of the Maori, his vertiginous fall down the icy slopes of the Vulcan Ruapehu and the raft race on the whirling white waters of the Tongariro River and the many adventures of love and mysteries described in Book 2, "Antipodium", of his improbable life.

He looked at the horizon: the sky was pitch black and, in the midst of the myriads of stars, there was no comet on sight. The show of its life had transferred to another continent, and wow he was in South America in the late 70s. He could live again the emotions of the Maria Lionza’s magic circle on the Chirimena beach in Venezuela; was repulsed again by the sight of the anaconda and giant rats of the llanos of Venezuela, and found himself again on his small boat sinking into the raging waters of the Caribbean Sea near Puerto La Cruz. Those were challenging and dangerous years, and he saw himself again in the middle of the guerrilla war in Guatemala, climbing the peak of the 6000 mt Misti volcano and wandering on a gelid and lonely Peruvian plateau far from civilisation. Dark, even desperate years in fact only broken by the unexpected, shattering, gift of the small wooden statue of Christ the Redeemer on the Copacabana beach of Rio de Janeiro. Thinking back to it, he realized that that episode had changed his entire life. But now, he had come back to his present life in Saudi Arabia. The dizzying descent to the lost village at the bottom of the Halabalah abyss, his quest for the traces of the Queen of Sheba in Yemen, and the sharks and barracudas of the Red Sea were only days away and had been described in Book 3 of the series.

And it was then that, suddenly, that the comet Haley had appeared low at the horizon and he suddenly realized that everything was going to change. That luminous appearance was an end and a new start. The end of a long and tormented period that had plagued him in so many of the previous years and the start of something fresh, brilliant and entirely new. The next day Francis will go to his Abha office in Saudi Arabia for the last time, will leave the country and start a new life in another city and another continent, and with it, the start of another, long and equally adventurous journey to the nations of the continents of Asia and Africa in addition to the islands of the Pacific Ocean. A new cycle of real-life events will start with chapter one of this book IV, taking my readers in close contact with some of the greatest personalities of the 20th century such as South Africa’ Mandela, Burma’ Aung San Suu Kyi and Philippines’ Cory Aquino. Unlike the previous three books of the series, this book will not have a Prologue since the new episodes can be finally described in their correct chronological order. A short chapter has been added, following the events of the night of November 13, 2017, the day in which the meaning of a mysterious dream would be revealed. Thus, in this last book of the series, and with it the breakthrough Francis he had been looking for all of those years: the end of his past and present adventures of his improbable life and what could the start of new, certainly extra-ordinary), adventures, in an entire new and distant world. And, just as usual, he will not be afraid.

CHAPTER 8

THE ASIAN YEARS

1985/1991

canstockphoto152979.jpg

The Asian Continent

Venom (Bangkok – 28-29 May 1986}

The plane that would take Francis and his daughter Valentina from Milan to the Philippines had finally landed in Bangkok and would leave for Manila only the following evening. This would allow them full day’s rest in one of the most attractive cities in the world. They had been lodged for the night in a magnificent hotel that offered many attractions, including that of a singer with a wonderful voice who sounded to them like that of an international star. Attracted by the voice they had gone to an elegant restaurant where they found out that who was singing so professionally was an unknown Pilipino singer. That was the first clue that they would soon be arriving in a country of many talents. After the performance and a delicious oriental style dinner, it was now very late at night and young Valentina, still a young teenager, had fallen into a deep sleep in their luxurious hotel room.

Francis, who woke up early the next morning as was his custom, decided not to disrupt that sleep. What little he had heard of the city had fascinated him: Bangkok seemed to be a city in which delights mixed with dangers, the kindness of its people with the malice of others. A city that he visualized in strong shades of luminous white and tenebrous black. There was something duplicitous in the smiles of the residents of a city that at the time was still unknown to him, but which he would come to know very well in the next few years. In the meantime, he decided to go out and get to know the area closest to the hotel following the directions of a small map he had found in his room. His daughter could sleep late, and he would be back in time for lunch and to prepare for their departure the next day. There wasn’t however, much to admire outside the hotel in the early morning of a working day. The only persons you would see on the street were busy people getting to their workplaces. Moreover, Bangkok was more famous to tourists for its nights than for its mornings. On the other hand, all Francis wanted that day was a quick walk through a city that was still unknown to him at the time.

His hotel was located close to the Chao Phraya River where the map indicated some of the most famous attractions of the city and since it was still 7 a.m., Francis felt certain that if he walked at a fast pace he would get back to the hotel around 11 a.m., even before his daughter would awaken. He had with him just a little more than US$100 for possible taxi fares and contingencies since Bangkok was known for its perils. Even if he should be robbed, it wouldn’t be a major loss for him. As soon as he was outside the hotel, he found himself on a wide road inundated by the morning sun and with little traffic and so he decided to enjoy a cup of coffee and study his little map of the city in the first bar he came across. It was an unremarkable bar in an unremarkable neighborhood with only a few customers most of them serious-looking businessmen on their way to work. He did not stay alone for long, however. He had just begun to sip his coffee, when a young man appeared beside him, greeting him politely. Although the young man’s tidy appearance inspired him with trust, Francis had decided a priori to avoid any contact with the locals. His experience in so many parts of the world had taught him that around every tourist there was a fauna of opportunists who wanted to make some profit out of them. That is how it was everywhere, and Francis, with the little time he had available, much preferred just to watch the environment without getting involved with the locals, at least for that day.

He decided not to encourage the young man to talk, even though he appeared to him as a polite and disinterested person, with something European in his appearance, both in his features and in the way he dressed. Despite Francis’ overt indifference, the young man, neatly dressed in a jacket and white shirt, still managed to make his point. He said that he had spent two years in Germany as a student and that he intended to return to Europe next year to continue his studies and improve his knowledge of foreign languages. He spoke to Francis both in English and French, although Francis was careful not to ask him any details about which European countries he had visited and how long he had lived there. He tried not to show any interest in the young man’s words so as not to give too much confidence to a stranger.

Francis was having the last gulp of his coffee when the young man, who had said his name was Charles, politely asked him where he was going that morning. Francis vaguely indicated that he was going to visit the area of the floating market which in his small map appeared relatively close. Bangkok in those years was an easy city to visit, with specific landmarks where all tourists went. The night before, Francis had read a book gifted to him by PAN AMERICAN Airways, which listed the tourist attractions of most cities of the world. For Bangkok, these included the floating market on the Chao Phraya River near the Oriental Hotel, an ancient hotel built that would become later one of Francis’ favorite stopovers.

The floating market appeared to him as an ideal destination for it was relatively close to his hotel and because it would allow him to spend a few hours outdoors, take pictures and quickly get back to his daughter. He got up to pay for his coffee, but the young man had already preceded him. Francis told him maybe too abruptly that he shouldn’t have done it, but Charles explained to him, very politely, that it was a Thai custom. In Thailand, he said, one would never allow a guest from another country to pay, and in any case, he was certain that if they had met in Europe, he, Francis, would reciprocate the favor. Comforted by this logic, Francis set aside some of his mistrust. Perhaps that young man just wanted to have friends in case he had to return to Europe to complete his studies. This was quite understandable, and Francis would have no problem meeting him again in Italy and helping him then.

He set out on his way, but Charles reappeared by his side and said he would accompany him to the bridge over the Chao Phraya River that led to the floating market. And, without waiting for an answer, he stopped one of the many taxis circulating on the road. The bridge was still far away, he said, and also his own office was on the other side of the river. The young man seemed in good faith and so, after some hesitation, Francis agreed to sit in the car. He would save time, he thought, and after all, the young man was just taking a taxi to his office. The journey was short, and the taxi stopped at a crowded square full of traffic near a viaduct that crossed the river in a diagonal direction. Once again, the young man anticipated Francis’ attempt to pay the taxi in US dollars by pointing out that taxi drivers only accepted Bahts, the local currency. He also reminded Francis of his moral obligation not to allow a foreign guest to pay.

Francis had to thank him once again, expecting the young man to leave him now and go to work. Charles, however, after pointing out the heavy traffic around him, told him that he should at least let Francis know which bridge he had to use to cross the river. Although Francis pointed out that this was not necessary since he could orient himself using his little map, he felt obliged to follow him at least to get out of that chaotic traffic mess. Accustomed to managing on his own, he had not lost his distrust of this strange individual, but he didn’t want to treat him too harshly. The young man seemed to be quickly offended whenever he questioned his honesty and insisted that this courtesy was perfectly normal for Thai citizens.

Once out of the traffic jam, they arrived at a small pier and Charles told him that it would be easier to go across the river using one of the many boats that served the area. He added then that the trip would be good for him too, as his office was on the other side of the river. Francis agreed to this, thinking that this would finally allow him to pay for the tickets and to return Charles’ courtesy once and for all. They were the only passengers on that small boat that, after crossing the vast Chao Phraya River, continued to follow its west bank perhaps to reach a landing point. It approached instead a large canopy that seemed to protect a series of incredibly long and colorful boats shaped like canoes.

Charles explained that these were the Royal Barges used for over 700 years by the royal family on great occasions. One of the barges was almost 150 feet long and 10 feet in width, and Charles told him that it had been made from a single, gigantic tree trunk. The bow was covered by a gold mask representing a bizarre creature with a bird’s beak and the body of a Chinese dragon. Charles, who by now was acting as a guide, explained that this was Anantanakkharat, the King’s private boat used only on rare ceremonies, one of which had been held just two days before. Francis ought to consider himself lucky to have been able to see it there.

The visit to the royal barges seemed to be free of charge, or at least no one asked Francis to pay for anything, so he concluded that it was included in the price of the trip. He then decided not to give any more thought to the matter. Perhaps the Thai was kind and generous by nature, and in any case, he had enough cash in his wallet to reward Charles at the end of this trip. So, the young man stood by his side while the boat continued its journey, first through a crowded and fascinating fruit and vegetable floating market, and then to the side of a magnificent flower garden where orchids stood out. Francis felt embarrassed by the many wonders of this little tour for which he imagined that he would soon have to pay the cost, although he still didn’t know when this would happen. He felt grateful, however, to Charles who was ultimately introducing him to exactly what he had hoped to see.

On the other hand, the trip’s surprises were not over yet. The boat docked in a small pier just a few paces from a magnificent Buddhist temple with many red roofs, decorated with statues and multicolored friezes and surrounded by trees and endless large vases of flowers. Coming off the boat, Francis turned to comment on the wonder of this spectacle to Charles, but the young man had disappeared. He found himself alone in a square in the middle of a crowd of loud and smiling people who seemed to be attending a religious festival. He now felt guilty of having doubted Charles, the kind young man who had introduced him to so many wonders and then silently left without asking him anything in return.

He began to follow the river of people entering and leaving the temple, accompanied by a frantic sound of bells. He couldn’t figure out where the sound was coming from as the bells rang as though shaken by a powerful wind. Inside the temple, he came to see an unexpected show just like a theatre performance. Right at the center of the temple, there was a group of young Buddhist monks dressed in orange around an older monk who sang a litany that sounded like a mantra. These were one or two-syllable words that were repeated ad infinitum, thus creating a hypnotic lullaby. It wasn’t just the monks who sang, but the whole crowd, as if they were invoking something or someone. Some of those syllables remained in his memory since they were repeated at the beginning of each verse.

He also noticed a European-looking, white-haired lady sitting on the floor in a yoga position with a crown of flowers on her head and an aromatic candle in her hand, who smiled at him as soon as she saw him. Francis asked her about the meaning of the singsong and the ringing of bells, and she replied that if he just accompanied her in singing the mantra, he would receive great benefits. Francis then, enchanted by the mysticism of that experience, stood by her side and tried to imitate her singing. The singsong was endless and Francis only managed to sing the syllables that were repeated over and over again: Namo Tassa, Bhaga Vato, Ara Hato, Samma Sambu, Didi Hassa

He realized, however, that time was passing and that he couldn’t stay any longer. He had to get back to Valentina, and so he decided to say goodbye to the lady and made his way to the exit. This time it was she who stopped him and who, after taking off the crown of flowers from her head, whispered these words to him "Now that you have prayed in Wat Rakhang, you will become popular and will be heard in the world just as the sound of its bells". Francis smiled with amusement and thanked the lady for her prediction. He certainly didn’t deserve that privilege, just for having sung four or five syllables of an incomprehensible mantra. Yet who knows, would this happen in the future because of the books on his improbable life?

Francis was now in a real hurry to get back to his hotel even though he didn’t know where he was at that moment. He had to be on an island because he could not see roads or cars around him and even worse there was no trace of taxis. He figured he would need to take a few ferries to reach the other side of the river, but despite being surrounded by a large crowd, he didn’t know who to ask for information. There seemed to be too few people in Thailand who spoke English.

As he made his way through the crowd, he headed in the direction of the river in search of a ferry. But, there, leaning against the trunk of a tree in the middle of the square, was Charles. This time, Francis was happy about it: a polite young man who spoke English would be useful in that situation even if his attitude seemed to have changed. The young man had lost his smile and his way of speaking was no longer friendly.

Francis could understand that. To wait for him, Charles had to give up going to the office he had mentioned several times in the morning. On the other hand, Francis was ready to compensate him for his troubles, if only he could help him to return to his hotel as soon as possible. Charles, however, told him not to worry. He had booked a boat at a nearby pier that would take them back to their starting point. The boat would arrive in a few minutes, he said, and in the meantime, they could have a beer at a nearby bar.

They sat down at an outdoor table in front of a small bar. Charles went in and came back with two open beer bottles in his hands. It was hot so the sight of a frosty and bubbly beer was especially pleasing to Francis. The beer wasn’t particularly good, though. It tasted bitter and had a sulphur-like smell that could not be defined as pleasant, though Francis refrained from commenting on it, and kept on drinking it in small sips as was his custom. That had to be the taste of the local beer and it was better to avoid criticism that might have offended Charles, who was gulping it down very fast. Francis thought that this was the right time to return the many favors he had received so far from the young man. So, once he saw that Charles was about to finish his beer, he left his, still half-full, on the table to quickly go to the bar counter and order another one for his friend. He just wanted to pay for something himself, but Charles did not appreciate this gesture at all. He ran after him inside the bar and with a hostile expression told him that he should never do this since it would represent a serious offense to him. In Thailand, he repeated, it is never the guest who pays for the host.

Charles’ unpleasant reaction surprised him and Thai hospitality itself seemed excessive to him. He remembered a similar episode in Sicily many years earlier when, as a young graduate, he had worked on a motorway project. There, too, there had been extremely kind hosts who had offered him a delicious lunch, and who harshly rebuked him when he had gone furtively to the cashier to pay at least for the wine. Local friends later told him that those people belonged to the local mafia and that was their way of doing things to get something in return, at the right time. But it was too late now to refuse his invitation. He needed Charles to g back to the hotel where his daughter was waiting for him.

Charles invited him to return to the table where he would soon bring the beers. Francis thanked him once again, pointing out to him however that to be his guide, Charles hadn’t even gone to his office that morning. And then, the young man, who seemed to have regained his friendliness, explained to him that his work allowed him to go to the office in the afternoon, without any problems. A little later, Charles came back with other two bottles of beer already open in his hand. Francis would have gladly done without them. The first beer had had a strong