Frigidaire

A tourist view from the beach-side restaurant, where there are no tourists (just us)

A tourist view from the beach-side restaurant, where there are no tourists (just us)

This is the name of the beach we’ve gone to twice now. I’m learning more about how it all works now: for example, this isn’t a public beach (which explains why they have beach chairs for you, each with a green and yellow umbrella that says “Frigidaire”). Also, Olivier and Miriam have reservations to use certain beach chairs for the season. The chairs are numbered, and we have 30 and 31. They rented a second set for guests. Also, they have parking spaces that are reserved, and shaded – whereas guests park in a larger, open area. I asked Miriam how much it costs and she said you don’t want to know.

I haven’t seen any non-Italians at this beach other than us, that I can recognize. It’s kind of odd having our kids immersed in this kind of environment, when I think back on my first memories of the beach, at the Jersey shore.

Yesterday, the water was completely clear. The day prior, winds had blown some random seaweed and debris here and there, but it was nothing to worry about once you swam past the surf. Yesterday, it was perfect. Lily got a grain of sand in her one eye and I thrust her in the sea to get it out, before she rubbed it too hard. We went to lunch again at the same restaurant, and this time I got a dish of Moscardini (two-inch long octopuses in a rich, red sauce). We dipped bread in it, and I got a large Italian beer again. The Italians working behind the line in the restaurant seemed to think me funny trying to order, through pointing and using a combination of Italian, French and English. They said “I teach you,” and would say the Italian word carefully for me to repeat it the right way. It is a stressful ordeal getting through the line, as everyone is anxious to get their food. They start serving at 12:45 and Olivier explained that the pans of pasta are made in small batches, to serve only seven or eight, because you can’t make larger batches than that and still have it taste good.

The days are blending a bit. The day prior, we went in to Orbetello to get gelato for the kids (although Dawn and I ordered some, too) and aperitivos for the adults. They were serving some free finger food as a buffet at the bar, but we saved ourselves for dinner later. Olivier and Miriam have a cook who comes in periodically, and she had prepared baked whole fish for us, with grilled zucchini/basil/garlic. The whole fish had pieces of garlic stuffed inside it; Olivier offered his son Max one of the eyeballs, and Max gladly accepted and ate it.

It’s really good living here. I had some cigar by the pool after the beach yesterday, and a bit of the Weissherbst (“White Autumn” rosé) I brought from Germany. I had planned to take a nap, but didn’t get around to it.

About pinklightsabre

William Pearse publishes memoir, travel journals, poetry and prose, and lives in the Pacific Northwest.
This entry was posted in travel, Travelogue 2009 and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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