Getting Used to Salt Water

Growing up in the Midwest, I never actually got to see the ocean in person until I was eight years old. We were in Daytona Beach in the middle of a storm, and I wasn’t allowed to get out of the car. I think the next time was in Hawaii when I was sixteen, and suffice it to say that was a bit more climactic. Hawaii has to be one of the best places in the world to learn to surf. It feels as if the ocean is literally beckoning you, and once in it doesn’t disappoint.

Except for the dang salt in it. Photos and TV delude us with all these fabulous images of profound blue and magical waves, but no public works truck comes crashing through your front door, slurrying you in a wake of deicer. Now THAT would be a real experience. Instead, after the initial feeling of total relaxation in the warm waves, I was faced with the brutal reality of burning eyes and a maximized afro. I guess that’s just a by-product of having grown up where every water activity involved a lake or river. There I was inhaling algae when I face planted off a wakeboard, not a canister of Morton’s.

Italians often ask me what the heck I’m doing in Italy. See the Italian dream is caught up in TV shows like Sex and the City and the OC. It’s every 20-30 something’s dream to go to New York and sip a cosmopolitan in a classy bar (and no, it's not a sissy drink to Italians), or lounge by the pool under the palm trees in an LA mansion. They want to see the Simpson’s houses we all live in, and they want to be their own Kerouac and hitchhike to the Grand Canyon. I mean, it’s the US. What in the world could an American possibly want in Italy?









This is Ponza. It’s an island off the coast of Italy not too far from Naples. Maria’s (my girlfriend's) sister’s boyfriend’s family owns a villa in San Felice Circeo about 30 minutes away from the island by way of their 50-foot yacht. (I wanted to add another possessive to that sentence, but it seemed silly to say that their dogs owned anything.) Two weekends ago they were entertaining a notary (A very powerful intermediary figure here, nothing like our notaries! They are kind of a mega lawyer that authorizes business relationships between the state and the public [from what I understood anyway. Regardless, it's a pretty big deal]). Of course, since I’m basically family (you know, by way of son’s girlfriend’s sister’s boyfriend [isn’t Italy great?!?]), I was invited too.

I’m just in awe here. Even when work just sucks, the weekend makes you forget in an instant. Parmigian bruschette, fresh mozzarella, little sausages, octopus sandwiches (I cannot begin to tell you how amazing these were), coppiette (something like pork jerky)… I just… don’t know what to say. It seems weird to write these things because they just don't sound that appetizing. But I'm telling you, they were all fantastic! The food here is just incredible. We drank glasses of wine and dined as the waves next to the cliffs of Ponza gently rocked the boat.

Later we took the mini service boat attached to the back of the yacht to the beach for mojitos. The dj at the beachfront club was fantastic, so we couldn’t help but dance for a while before heading back.

This past weekend we hit the beach in Marina di Cerveteri, which is the beach where I sometimes swim on my lunch-break. They have coffee bars and showers there, so it’s easy to take a swim, grab a quick bite to eat, and head back to the office for the afternoon. Sunday afternoon it was off to Torvajanica, another beach town south down the coast. We relaxed on the beach for a while before grabbing a gelato and hitting up the local butcher for steak-burgers and fresh buffalo mozzarella.

I realize I’m totally bragging, but you guys have been harassing me for updates and I can’t help myself.

So anyway, I’m getting used to salt water.