Happy Sunday!

Paul and I started the day with a walk into the center of town for cappuccino, plain and cream-filled croissants. I counted 22 men standing, sitting and conversing with each other at the bar and one table of three women.

As we walked back up the hill, we ran into Federica who said the beach water has been so hot that it’s like broth. We also ran into Biaggio who said going to the beach is not for him, it’s for young people. 

Despite these sentiments, we went to the beach anyway. By 10:15 we were on the road, stopping briefly at an open air market for fruit to bring to the beach and passing five packs of bikers braving the hills and the heat. 

We explored a new beach club today, this time on the other side of Sperlonga city center. At Bazzano Beach Club we had three lounge chairs and an umbrella in the last row of the club, near where people wash their feet at the end of the day. Not an ideal spot as the beach sand is soft, yet extremely hot to walk on, and it’s painful to walk on the hot sand the further away you are from the water.  

The good news: the restaurant was just a few feet away. For lunch we enjoyed fish tacos, spaghetti with clams, zucchini flowers stuffed with scamorza cheese, fried calamari with fried vegetables, Aperol and Hugo spritzes, and two espressos. It was all delicious. 

This beach club is a lot busier than where we typically go: Raggio Di Sole. There were at least a dozen waitstaff handling the outdoor dining space, there was a bachelor party in matching tshirts and aperol spritz banners on display for the promotional event later that afternoon. The club was crowded but I never feel like my space was being encroached upon like when you spread towels down at a public beach. 

Today we noticed bits of ash in the water, likely blown to sea from the mountain fires that happen regularly in this area. While in the water, we could see smoke rising on one of the hills behind us and a helicopter making regular trips to the ocean, filling up with water to help extinguish the scene. Very similar to what we experienced in Greece. 

By 7:30 we were back in Pico, burnt from the day in the sun but relaxed. As we unloaded the car, our neighbor Stefano (who likes to joke around a lot) said “Pico is burning” and from our terrace we could see a helicopter and plane spraying water in the distance. We didn’t smell anything burning, so the spraying may have been preventative. As our friend Luca told us many years ago, sometimes the water spraying occurs because the emergency department needs to prove they are busy to maintain their contract year after year. 

For dinner Paul picked up three pizzas from Senza Nome: margherita for Miss M, diavolo for me (spicy salami) and crocche (mozzerella, potato croquettes, cooked ham and provola cheese) for Paul.

After dinner, Paul relaxed on the terrace while India barked incessantly at another intruder, and Miss M fed the cats.