#47: Why Australians Can’t Have Nice Things

With summer well and truly underway here, we've been looking for activities to do with the kids that don't involve just sitting at home with the blinds down and the fans running, spying out the windows at anyone crazy enough to be out in the heat. Like some kind of terribly boring re-enactment of Rear Window. 

While the beaches are quite close and easily accessible by train, the quality of the water in Versilia is unfortunately a little underwhelming. Especially for an Australian who grew up spending summers on Stradbroke Island...

Which is my polite way of saying that it is murky slop. No one is going to the beach in Viareggio for the water. 

The local swimming pools, however, have all the drawcards of the beach clubs - with umbrellas, sun lounges and chairs, and a well-stocked, very reasonably-priced bar on site - as well as the added benefit of having clean (or at least chlorinated) water, and are easily accessible for us by bike. We have been going most weekends.

Yesterday we picked the bambini up from summer camp and rode straight to the pool. A few friends and their kids joined us, so we had a crew of adults on hand to share the load of child supervision. It was an amazing afternoon and evening. 

One of my favourite aspects of the pool experience in Italy, as compared to back home, is how relaxed they are. Of course it is fine to bring in all of your own food. And in fact, nothing could be more Italian than the sight of the family at the table next to us who unpacked and ate a full three course lunch after their swim last Sunday. 

Of course they then waited the requisite two hours after eating before getting back into the water again. Because here in Italy, it’s common knowledge that swimming after eating equals certain death.

Last night we decided that it would be lovely to have a little aperitivo by the pool, so I volunteered to go to the bar and see if they sold any alcoholic drinks. Of course I was not sure if they would, given the proximity to water and the number of children around.

What a terribly Australian way of thinking, it turns out.

As I approached the bar, I saw some couples sitting at tables that are a bit cordoned off from the rest of the pool and the grassy areas with all the umbrellas, having drinks. Perfect, so they do sell alcohol! My Australian brain then proceeded to think, oh this is probably the only area you can sit to drink. Because that is how I have been conditioned.

I approached the lady, and asked if she sold prosecco. Of course, she said. Certo. Her eyes said "d'uh of course we do, what a silly question". So then I asked if I could buy drinks and take them back to our table on the other side of the pool, or did I have to stay here in front of the bar?

At this point she was looking at me like I had two heads. Again, of course you can, she said. Now her eyes were saying "you can take them wherever you like, strange woman, just stop asking me these insane questions". 

So off I went, with a huge grin on my face, and a tray of drinks to be enjoyed lazily at our tables in the late afternoon sunshine. The drinking culture in Australia couldn't cope with this level of freedom, we would ruin it for sure with our penchant for excess and disgraceful shenanigans.

But in Italy, by the pool on a hot afternoon with a light breeze and the shade from overhanging trees, a cold prosecco shared with friends is actually heaven. 

And the best part was how tired the kids were, and how well they slept last night. There's nothing like swimming to burn off any excess energy.

All my love!

Previous
Previous

#48: Italians Don’t Share Pizza

Next
Next

#46: One Year In Italy!