Sunday, June 22
Inspired by Scintillas recent post:
You know you’re in Positano and its summer when:
You often get woken up in the morning by a helicopter hovering above your house delivering rolls of heavy duty chicken wire to cover the mountainside.
You often get woken up in the morning by a marching band parading throught the streets.
You often get woken up at midnight by noisy firework displays from various saints days, weddings and parties.
Neighbours often bring you bags of home grown fruit, vegetables, eggs and occasionally freshly killed chickens because they have so much they don’t know what to do with it.
The electricity suddenly goes off for no reason whatsoever at any time of the day or night.
You can hear the neighbours calling each other to see if everyones electricity has gone off and casually call out, “me too!”, then five minutes later yell out, “its back now!” without getting up from your seat.
Every time you leave the house somebody asks you if you’re going to the beach.
Wherever you go in town you have to dodge and duck for tourists taking photos.
You can get away with doing the weekly shopping barefoot, dressed in wet swimwear and a kaftan and wet hair and nobody bats an eyelid.
Everybody you meet has kittens to give away or knows someone who does.
You really want to go out on Saturday night but have been out so many times already in the last week that you fall asleep on the sofa at 9pm.
You seem to eat various types of tomatoes with every meal.
When Italy are playing football you can hear roars of delight and groans of dismay richocheting around town, from above you, below you and to the side of you.
You suddenly have nothing decent to wear and every evening you end up trying all of your clothes on, dumping piles of them on the bed, then settling for the first thing you tried on, ending up half an hour late for dinner only to find that you are the first to arrive because all your friends had exactly the same problem.
at 11:42 AM