Beach Weather

It is spring in Italy and, just as in the Northeast US where we make our stateside home, the weather can be changeable. The temperature can be in the 70’s one day and the 50’s the next. A bright sunny morning can give way to dark clouds and rain in the afternoon. As they said when I was growing up in Maine, if you don’t like the weather, wait a minute.

I suppose I should define beach weather, Italian style. In the Maine of my youth, spring beach weather meant a day in the 50’s where we would head to the shore to climb around on rocks. In spite of having thousands of miles of coastline, Maine has only a few sandy beaches. To be truthful, a couple of them were near enough to our home for me to visit them and trips to Reid and Popham were certainly welcome. But, heading out to John’s Point or Merepoint to splash in the cold, murky water and wade in the mudflats was much more common.

Italians have true beaches. Heading west to the water you will find any number of fine places to dip your toes into the Mediterranean. But, temps in the 70’s are warm enough for only the most hearty of souls or devoted worshipers of the sun to don their bikinis and head to the coast. Early May isn’t off-off season, but it is off season. Things don’t really heat up until August when the Italians pack themselves like sardines onto any stretch of coast to bake themselves into a stupor on a mile of sand with 10,000 of their closest friends. Being a Mainer at heart, the weather has warmed far enough into the 70’s so that I finally ventured to the beach. The experience certainly had its moments. There was a steady light breeze which cooled things nicely and there were enough scantily clad/topless young ladies to provide entertainment for a lecherous old fart like me when the Nigerians hawking beads didn’t. On the other hand, the beaches were already littered with a layer of garbage which will only get worse as the season progresses and I rediscovered that, after all the years spent on the coast of Maine, I really don’t like sand that much. A layer of pasty sand clinging to the obligatory film of SP70 sunblock just isn’t my cup of tea. Give me a cool breeze off the Atlantic and a pile of rocks to climb around on and I am a happy camper.