We bought train tickets for tomorrow with much commotion, as we needed only the French portion of the tickets to compliment our Italy rail pass. The lady at the desk didn`t speak English and would not belive our pass was not a Eurail pass covering both countries. Ah, the joys of only knowing a few words Italian, and not always the useful ones.
The day was beautiful, so we hit the beach. Sarongs become very useful items, they make good beach blankets and good beach towels. We actually were able to swim in the ocean. That seems like such a peculiar idea after Santa Cruz. The water was just the right temperature to return us back to baking in the sun for another hour. The beach and scenery were great. A castle off in one direction, fishing boats in the other. Some weird tourist had brought a trumpet and serenaded the ocean from the cliff. It was sort of an oompah sea chanty. I am beginning to understan that there is always something weird happening when you travel, and that humans are much stranger than you like to believe.
Our beach day was cut short by huge drops from what turned out to be about an hour long, loud thunderstorm. This is fortunate for me and my ghostly skin, since Derrell would have lasted for hours. The drops from this storm were immense and well spread out. We felt like we were getting hit by wet nurf pingpong balls.
During dinner we met a couple from LA/Santa Cruz. Small world syndrome. This turned into an evening that lasted way into the evening with them. We ended back over at the Mojito bar which was empty and filled up to overflowing at exactly 11 pm when a playoff Italian soccer game ended. They had made a trip through Copenhagen (to see friends), Prague (didn`t see the allure), Rome (cool), and here in Cinque. I also met a number of Italians, as the table we were camped at turned into a dice game similar to 21 with bluffing. Overall, it was way too good of an evening to be reasonable and turn in.. uh-oh, for that train trip that starts at 7 am tomorrow.
