Wednesday, June 13


I awoke to the sound of Skye chattering to the cat. I could see bright sunlight filtering through the venetian blinds and decided immediatly that today was going to be a beach day. After a surprising amount of work over the last week I deserved a break.

I packed my beach bag: suncream, sarong(to lie on not to wear), book (The Coffee Trader), bikini, lipbalm and pen and paper to write with in case inspiration struck. Skye watched and then packed herself a bag to take too: 2 My Little Ponies, small plastic hairbrush (for Ponies), two small Disney Princesses and some bubbles to blow. Essential beach accessories.

We walked down to the pier debating which beach to go to. Skye wanted to go to the 'red fish beach' , influenced by the boat ride needed to get there. But as the boat pulled in we watched in dismay as a rowdy bus load of Italian tourists pushed and shoved to get on board. They crammed themselves into the boat, causing it to sink dangerously close to the water.

Choosing to avoid the crowd we followed the picturesque pathway around the cliff to the quieter beach and settled on a sunlounger with a glass of iced tea and lemon granita. Skye marched off to the nearest cluster of children and with her usual gusto announced loudly, "ciao! I'm Skye and I'm four! How old are you?"

I lay back and tried to plan the evening ahead. A friend had offered to babysit so Carlo and I were free to spend the evening out and together, a rare event. Two years ago we paid a babysitter every Friday evening. We would ride the motorino to the bar at the top of the town for a glasss of prosecco before deciding what to do for the rest of the evening. A good meal in one of the local restaurants followed by an hour of people watching in the piazza on the beach was our favourite past time.

Last year we decided to put the money that we would have spent on babysitters and meals into a holiday fund, hoping to escape the long winter in some far away place. The holiday never happened and we never had a night out last year. We resolved to not let that happen again.

Where should we go tonight, I wondered? A prosecco at the bar followed by dinner? A bike ride to the harbour in the next town and a romantic walk around the bay? Pizza on the beach followed by people watching and a cocktail? My thoughts were interrupted as Skye flung her wet sandy little self at me, causing me to flinch from the sudden cold. I walked with her to the sea edge and together we drew letters in the sand. I decided not to plan the evening and just see what would happen as the evening unfolded...

6 comments:

  1. "Tutto 'o lasciato è perduto"
    Never forget!

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  2. The Fornillo beach is where we went, right? It was gorgeous off season, I can only imagine what it's like now! Enjoy your night out, it's incredibly important to have time alone to be just a couple, not mom and dad. If I make it to the area next summer I'll definitely take care of Poppy for a night or two to return the favor you did to us!

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  3. I hope it was a great evening.

    I'm off to spend a week in venice in 10 days' time and I can't wait!

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  4. I really enjoy reading your blog. The stories about Poppy, and the life you have chosen really makes me feel a sense of security in this upcoming move.

    I hope we can meet someday...I love Positano and have considered making that my home.

    One never knows until they try.

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  5. i loved that book. i think for kids "how old are you" is one of those all defining questions.. like for new yorkers - where do you work-

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