Saturday, September 19
Letter to friends
Dear Melissa, Dear Lucy,
I know, I know, I have been very slack this summer at blogging, but really there hasn’t been so much to write about. Sitting in a wooden cabin on the pier for 10 hours a day just isn’t really all that interesting!
Of course there has been the occasional evening out, but staying up late meant that I was extra tired the next day and couldn’t be bothered to write about it..
Take the time in August when our friends Claire and David came back to visit. (They used to live in Positano, but moved away a few years ago.) One evening we had a pool party up at the top of town where they were staying, it was a fantastic evening. We arrived straight from work and found all sorts of food laid out on a table on the terrace and a barbeque busily smoking away in the corner, emitting enticing smells. After dinner some of us drifted into the games room for a game of pool (billiards) while the rest of us drifted up a terrace to the swimming pool. Eventually everyone ended up in the pool, drunk on fun, food and wine and a serious game of wet-piggy-back-war ensued, causing much hysteria and pinging of bikini straps.
Poor little Skye was tired out even before we arrived and curled up to sleep on a swing-seat, where she stayed throughout the evening, while we splashed away in the pool. Around about one in the morning we decided to call it a night and carried her up to the road where the three of us squeezed onto the motorino to go home.
About 500 metres down the road we were pulled over by the police. It is of course illegal to travel three on a bike, even if you are all wearing helmets. But, luckily fortune was with us as they must have been searching for drug dealers or wayward teens, rather than tired, wet families returning home after a pool party. We were waved over to the side of the road, scrutinized for a few agonizing seconds and then waved away with a short but meaningful comment, “I think it’s best that you all just go home.” We obeyed.
Another evening worth mentioning was the evening of tantric-yoga-on–the-beach, as it has been named. Really, what happened was that we never left work that evening. Claire and David and co. came down to visit us on the pier with a bottle of prosecco. It gradually grew dark and we ordered pizzas and drifted towards the beach in front of the pier. Davids brother and Claire decided to try out a difficult yoga position thqt they just knew they could do if they concentrated. So they tried…and tried…and a crowd slowly gathered…and they tried..but it wasn’t quite working.
Now, he had to lie on his back with his legs up in the air. She had to balance on his legs with her pelvis. Then it got weird…She had to sort of spread her legs, weave her arms through…somewhere and eventually he would be able to spin her around on his feet, balanced in mid air…or something..
In the end we all had a go and much hilarity ensued as we found ourselves suddenly upside-down, legs akimbo, spinning round in mid air. It was not so amusing the next day when some very unflattering photos of me were shown around to anybody who cared to look. What was I thinking?
Anyway, we’re all still here working away, looking forward to the end of the season which is vaguely in sight.
Oh, look, one of the boat is coming in...must dash..
I’ll write again soon.
Love Nicki xxxx
at 12:09 PM