After our very late night battling it out over the Scrabble board, a long lie in was definitely in order. And very nice it was too. I quite like this entertaining business.
A nice slow get up we had with the weather being good enough, just, to eat breakfast on the terrace. The skies, however, were looking very heavy and threatening and lurking ominously over the mountains. Best we go in the opposite direction. So a day out at the seaside was easily decided upon.
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| Trabocchi |
San Vito Chietino. Just beautiful. Clustered around the hill top and tumbling down to the sea. Bamboo-like canes, sandy deserted beaches and the sun bleached cobbled together fishing trabocchi completed the scene. Seaside out of season, wrapped up against the cold, being buffeted by the wind, exhilarating. Sharon put on a brave face and tried very hard not to mind the sand in her shoes and her hair whipping across her face, but she did look decidedly happier once we were away from the harsh elements and well settled in a little fish cafe.
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| Ortona |
What a great lunch we had. Plastic knives and forks, plastic plates and tablecloths and paper napkins, but a seafood selection to die for. Just €5 a plate. This is more like it! The hardest part was choosing just what to pile on your plate. Between us we managed a pretty good selection of shell fish pasta, squid, calamari, salmon, anchovies and various strange looking fishy things that I had absolutely no idea what they were, but all equally delectable. What fun.
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| Yummy Gelati |
A drive back through Ortona, stopping for a wander round the castle, the harbour and the streets, stopping for coffee in a cafe looking down over the port, nicely rounded off the day. Of course we couldn't leave the seaside without an ice cream, so four cones were piled up with all different colours and tastes. Italian ice cream. Heaven.
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| Rush hour on the way home |
The clouds were now coming in, and just got heavier and heavier the closer to home we got, until they could hold their water no longer and it all came down again.
Another evening huddled over the kitchen table, fire ablaze was on the cards. And the Scrabble came out. Hoorah!
A fierce battle was fought by the boys, but the girls were on it. They couldn't touch us. Couldn't even get close.
Lambs to the slaughter. Shame.
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| Fierce concentration |
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