The Beach and The Clown

After five hours of sleep, my alarm blared and I rolled out of bed and slipped into my swimsuit, made fifty peanut butter and cracker sandwiches and packed a book into my day-bag. Then my roommate and friend were off to Viareggio Beach with Florence University of the Arts.

It was a sleep-filled hour and a half to the beach, Tuscan hillside flanking us on either side (I caught a glimpse or two between naps!). When we arrived, you could just smell the sea air and it felt like summer all over again. As we walked to the beach, we looked at this bustling beach community – fishermen selling their catch to shop owners, families heading to the beach for a day of sun, and pharmacies selling suntan lotion. We finally made it to the beach and we stopped in front of a clown statue. As many of my relatives can tell you, I hate clowns, even when I was little. I have pictures of when clowns came to preschool and every kid had to take a picture with this clown. In my picture, the clown is sitting on the ground and I am a good five feet away, standing ready to run if the clown made any movement. So meeting this childhood fear, even in statue form, was not pleasant. At least this one was surfing, paying attention to the waves and not me (I really need to get over this fear, it is just a statue). The reason the clown is so popular in this town is because this is where they used to have Carnival (which takes place before Lent) and some famous Italian cartoonist drew this as the face of the carnival – like fifty years ago (so it is very popular and beloved). At least I did not have to see him for the rest of the trip.

The beach was wonderful – the sun was warm, the water was perfectly chilled, and the sand was not too hot. What surprised me was how covered the Italians were, relatively speaking. My travels have brought me to Greece and at beaches there, men and women wear swimsuits that consist of very, very little fabric. I always felt like I was wearing a parka when I went to the beach – my tankini, perfectly fine by American standards, was way to conservative. At this beach, I fit in with some of the population who decided to wear something other than a bikini – it was quite refreshing. All in all, I had a wonderful time relaxing with my friends.

My Friends and I

Sadly, all amazing days have to come to an end. We packed up all of our stuff and headed back to the train and sat on the train platform for a good hour – I got to experience my very first train strike. Apparently, train strikes can be spontaneous, but thankfully last for a period of time. This one was over at 9 at night, but our supervisor got on the phone and got us a train three hours earlier.

A sleep-filled train ride ended with our arrival into Florence. Tired out from the sun, surf and sand, I fell into bed and slept (shhh… this blog was written the next day).

So summer is officially over and it is now time to usher in fall – I can’t wait to see what the change of seasons holds for me….

Ciao!