Thursday, January 7, 2010

Venus's Pool 27/12/09

It is boiling here with the scirocco wind blowing over from North Africa. I made mulled wine last night and the people said it was too hot for it! It was also a bit bitter unfortunately. Need less orange and lemons and more sugar and cinnamon. People greet each other clutching their stomachs and moaning about how they have overeaten again, but still compare notes on what was on what they had to eat!

We are now known as the communist bar apparently. In Italy the distinct political factions formed in WW2 have remained, though communist does not hold the Eastern Europe connotations it would have in the rest of Europe. It basically covers anything from left of centre, to anti-establishment to bohemian lateral thinking. I wonder is it the world music that we play sometimes, or the South American artisan crafts on the walls, or the tapas we serve or what, exactly, has gained us this reputation?

The other night a hippy smiling crowd who ordered special spritzes from me and then the best Scotch whiskey from mio marito, left without paying. Unbelievable. That is the problem with table service for drinks.

I escaped for a peaceful walk out at the beautiful Capo (headland) after the liveliness of the last few nights. I had the Piscina di Venere (Venus’s Pool …) to myself, the sun light on the water leaving the rocks in relief against the cloudless blue sky, the odd fishing boat passing by just beyond the inlet, then a canoeist, and myself drenched in sunlight, about 25 degrees, roasting with my book. Two guys came along and apologised for intruding, they were thinking of a swim though they had no towels and when they saw me were inhibited and said maybe tomorrow. The second guy said, ‘What more could you want, where would you want to go? - You have Venus’s Pool all to yourself!’ It was gorgeous. Peace, feeling loved by the sun.

When I left my sheltered spot behind the rock there was a group of musicians playing hippy guitar music and the groupie girlfriend taking pics. Three other boys sat together watching the sunset behind the headland of Capo D’Orlando.

Lola

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