Holiday Memory

On a grey, dismal Sunday evening it's hard to believe I was enjoying the warm Italian sunshine just a couple of weeks ago.  To capture the moment of a chance event on the beach that made me smile I wrote the following piece for the Daily Telegraph "Just Back From" travel writing competition.  Unfortunately the judges didn't choose my entry, but rather than consign it to the bin I thought it was worthy of exposure on my blog.  I hope you like it:

Serried ranks of green and yellow parasols shade neatly paired deckchairs on the sand, the rhythmic sound of the waves on the shore gives a sense of timeless continuity and bronzed bodies of all sizes and ages set the scene.  Fervent games of football using improvised goalposts at the water’s edge; the whistle of the Salvataggio lifeguard warning swimmers against the sweeping current; small clusters of older generation holiday makers playing cards; much chatter; teen preening and flirting; babies idolised.  The beach is truly a microcosm of Italian life. With instinctive side-taking, worthy of the Montagues and Capulets, a group of bikini-clad girls is up in arms about their much rehearsed holiday dance routine.  Practised daily at the side of the Annita Bagno beach café, the young group has been perfecting their Summer moves, but there is dissension in the air. The mini-me versions of their middle-aged parents start gesticulating wildly.  Finger wagging and foot stamping, folded arms and frowning, the youngsters take their disagreement so seriously you would imagine their very lives depended on it.  Tears and tantrums followed by much consoling and plotting, then the rebels defiantly walk away from the impromptu stage.  With a backdrop of painted wooden changing huts; an assortment of inflatable Lilos to toy dolphins and rubber rings; plus multi-coloured patterned towels out to dry in the sun, at that very moment the makeshift set was the centre of their universe. 

I walked by on my daily visit to the new ice cream parlour on the pedestrian boulevard edging the beach.  Late afternoon and a queue had already formed, as if in line for the hottest nightclub in town.  I remember the phrase ‘dolce far niente’ – sweet doing nothing, or delicious idleness.  There is no hurry. All good things are worth waiting for and the few minutes deliberating on choice of flavours before my turn to be served are well spent.  Having ruled out the temptations of hazelnut-studded chocolate Baci; to cherry-packed Amarena, I choose a luscious raspberry gelati and scoop of intense pistachio for good measure.  Life is for living, holidays are a celebration and for that instant my ice cream was the sole focus of my attention.  The hot sun soon starts to take its share melting my indulgent treat more quickly that I can eat it.  I stand in the shade to savour the moment and watch the world go by.

Minutes later returning to the beach I pass the group of youngsters, their beach tiff seemingly resolved.  On cue the music starts, smiling dancers enter stage left from the side of the bagno café and strut their stuff to the CD player.  All is well, the ebb and flow of beach life goes on.    Another sunny day in Tuscany.