Before I say anything, I need to give an opening visual. Right now, I’m sitting on the deck of my hotel room in Rimini. I just got back from a glorious day laying in the hot sun and swimming in the warm ocean. There’s an ice cold, lime Bacardi Breezer in my left hand and to my right, the sun is just beginning to peek below the clouds and its last rays are playing hide and seek in the trees in front of me.
Rimini is the Cuba of Italy with a few more perks. You realize that it’s a beach town of no cares the minute you step outside the train station. A friendly cab driver will be happy to recommend you the best dancing and discos, restaurants, and of course beaches on the way to your hotel.
Although it wasn’t a hard experience to surpass, our check in at Hotel Marritima was immediately a million times better than the four points Sheridan express in Rome (and thank GOD). A smiling man in a suit greeted us with an enthusiastic “Ciao!” and welcomed us into his hotel straight away. He recommended restaurants, set us up with some (free) wireless internet, and reminded us of the complimentary breakfast we could avail of in the morning. This man had the service industry all figured out.
As soon as we got settled away and decided to explore, it only took us ten minutes to find our way to a beach (after picking up a few bottles of chardonnay and beer, for good measure) and feel the cool evening sand between our toes. When I stepped into the warm ocean for the first time and looked around at the setting sun and the endless coastline of beaches and hotel fronts, I already couldn’t wait to come back in the morning. A full 360 degree rotation revealed the entirety of another little piece of another Italian paradise.
The sound of the night coming alive was already hustling about, with chatting friends and couples out for supper in the many restaurants adoring Rimini’s sidewalks. After some wine (just assume it’s a requirement from here on in) we decided to integrate ourselves into Rimini’s nightlife. We sauntered through the main street and soon found ourselves being drawn to a restaurant called “Bounty” by the sweet sounds of live, outside music. Keep in mind, this happens EVERY NIGHT at Bounty. After we seated ourselves close to the front and a waiter came to take our order, we were enthralled by the free talent standing before us. I felt like there was some kind of cover charge that I surely missed, especially when the lead singer of the band (a tattooed, tight pants wearing, smooth talking soul man) provided a personal serenade.
Following more scrumptious food and chardonnay, we found ourselves in a karaoke competition and then laughing our way home accompanied by some friendly American naval personnel who were as delighted as we were to find themselves in the presence of English speaking people. We debated on whose Irish roots were stronger (a debate I won) while discussing the possibilities of a tequila shooting contest. In a few minutes we said some thankful goodnights for the accompaniment home, and went off to bed. I had a nightmare last night, a recurring one – that we woke up and it was raining and we couldn’t go to the beach. Please don’t hate me; it was a legitimate concern, right? I mean, it’s not like it was SNOWING with 3 degrees in Newfoundland-oh wait.
As I lay in the sun today, it was hard to believe that for once in my life there was nothing else that I “should” have been doing. It was difficult to convince myself for awhile, that all I had to do was enjoy this sandy utopia. The day was productively spent dozing in and out of consciousness and continuously denying the beach vendors of a purchase. The only bother in the entire world was remembering to flip every fifteen minutes to even out my tanning. At one point, I was the only one swimming in the Arid ocean as far as my eyes could see. As I dove for pretty seashells, I felt like the entire ocean was all mine for a little while
Not one woman in Rimini wears ANYTHING but a bikini. Regardless of size, shape, or age, they’re all comfortable enough with themselves and their bodies to rock a bikini all day; I think this is fantastic! The amount of confidence in all the women in Italy is something to be marvelled, which is probably why the men believe they’re so untouchable. An Italian man will always appear slightly bewildered when a woman is NICE to him upon a first encounter, even if it’s just a friendly “Ciao! Come stai?“ I know this because I’ve received that look of bewilderment almost daily since I arrived here.
After ordering a delicious pizza from a local, family pizzeria, we began getting ready for a night of dancing in Rimini. Our cab driver promptly took us to beach 88, the home of the local gay bar much to the delight of David. Hoards of people gathered (outside) this small bar as a DJ provided us with continuous electro and Italian popular music. Three times I was mistaken for a lesbian; I’m not sure how to take that, but for now I’ll just consider it a compliment.
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