12/8/97

To See the Sea

Carlo said to me on Friday 'Let's go to the sea on Sunday to get out of town and get some fresh air'. A great idea after a rather frustrating week of work.

He picked me up at 10am and we drove an hour to the Adriatic and stopped at the town of Rimini. It is a port town of about 100,000. It is December, sunny, cool, windy, but that does not take away my excitement for getting out of Bologna and getting the feeling of the water.

A beach town. Lots of Tourists, but not as many as would be there in summer. We first went into the center of town. I was surprised to see the Roman ruins. It is old, as most towns in Italy. For some reason my idea of beach towns is that they are all new (relatively speaking) and full of 'traps' for the kids. Rimini has its share of these, but the old center square gave me a different idea that I had been anticipating.

We went to the Sea and walked down to the pier. It was windy and colder than we both expected. But that did not stop us. We were on a quest; to clear the lungs of city air and refresh them with the air of the sea. There were not as many people out there as in town. But the feeling of being alive, being slapped in the face by the wind was healing, life giving and invigorating.

Carlo wanted to photograph. We both brought our cameras. I carried my 6x9 with tripod. It quickly became clear to me that is was too windy to set up a tripod. Well, actually not but the wind was more than I was really interested in. I felt like I had been fighting with the camera all week and did not want to argue with it in the wind, so I left it packed and just carried it. Carlo was concerned about leaving it in the car. I was willing to take a chance because getting away from 'it' was what this day was about. I carried it and it felt good on my back. Partially as a wind break, partially as a lover I just had a fight with and we were making up. Not talking to her, but just being together in silence, being close to each other.

As we went out to the pier. Carlo discovered that his camera did not work. The meter was out. A prepared photographer always has extra batteries. Did he? 'The test', I thought. Yes he did. But no coin in pockets to get the cap off. We tried to use my keys. Too fat. I checked the pockets of my wind breaker. Yes! An American dime to the rescue! Batteries changed. Still not working. Check the switches? Opps! Not turned on.

Walking out to the light 'house'. Actually it was more like a light pole. Not like the American way of big and showy. The wind blew. Ears cold. But still worth the effort. Out at the end of the pier a few others but not many.

Out on the point it was more than each of us really wanted to feel. OK! Our lungs are full of fresh cool air. Where can we hide?

"There under the pier?" Yelled Carlo. It looked warm and inviting, but it was not willing to accept us. So we decided to go back to the cover of the warm Fiat.

Once in the cover we drove to find a place to eat. It was Sunday. The weekend of the Feast of the Immaculate Conception. (There are more religious holidays in this country than I thought. This one, as I figured, was because the Virgin Mary could not get any, and the Pope can not get any so why not at least make it a holiday out of it and have another reason to eat and celebrate that fact!) Two restaurants were full. The third had a table. A wonderful meal of seafood salad, pasta with clams, vino bianco, grappa and a couple of coffees. After eating, time for another walk. To the beach!

The wind settled a little. The light was just right. Getting low, sinking in the west.

We walked. It was another refreshing, healing time. There were others on the beach. My mind could feel the excitement of the summer. I could feel all of the people packed in on a Sunday in summer. Running, swimming, relaxing. I could see, in my minds eye, all of the bronzed beauties and wrinkles after a full day of sun. My mind wandered to the memories I've had at the beach. A mind full of warmth. Thoughts of the past. Life at the beach.