We spent two days in an unimpressive, noisy but friendly campsite near Ravenna – the Pineta di Ravenna. It was on the beach but the sea was quite murky and the off-shore oil rig didn’t add to the appeal of the place. We swam but it wasn’t particularly enjoyable.  Our nearest neighbours were holidaying with their two grandchildren.  Even though we communicated only through nods and hellos, by the end of the two days we felt we’d got to know them fairly well as we were privy to all their non-stop chatter. The eldest boy of about five was called Allessandro.  Granny spent most of the day shouting ‘Allessandro, vieni qui?’ ‘Dove sei?’ ‘Cosa fai?’ ‘ Quante volte ti devo dire..’ (come here, what are you doing, how many times do I have to tell you..)  But if Grandad dared do the same she’d shout him down with ‘Ma perche urli come un pazzo?’ (Why are you yelling like a madman?)

If one thinks of this as a microcosm of what was going on pretty much throughout the campsite, you get an idea of what the general atmosphere was like.  On an Italian campsite in mid-summer there is no such thing as grabbing a quiet coffee in the cafe at 10am while catching up on the blog.  By 10am the place is already in full swing with various inter-connecting groups of youngsters and older people forming noisily and spontaneously, separating then re-merging in different combinations, occupying all available chairs and tables whilst children are running amok and announcements about later activities are being called out on loudspeakers.  Privacy is an esoteric concept. Little girls will run enthusiastically  towards us as we’re coming back from the beach to ask inquisitively all about us – ma voi di dove siete? (Where are you from? .. I love the ‘ma’ (but)).  Really sweet and endearing.  Sometimes, you get so used to the constant chatter around you involving more often than not several in the group talking at the same time or repeating what the other says in a slightly different way or with a different intonation, that you forget to notice that you’re being asked a question: “Voi giocate il poker?” (Do you play poker?) No, lasciateci in pace (leave us in peace) you want to say, but not really as it’s all lovely and uniquely Italian!  At least we’re too old to be asked to play volley-ball!

The only respite to be had is at the obligatory siesta time (2pm-5pm) after which the activities and general tumult begin again and go on well into the night.  At Pineta a stage was erected and various slapstick scherzi sketches were performed mostly by teenagers and very much enjoyed by children and older people sitting behind them.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Moving further south down the Adriatic coast, we stopped at Pesaro for a coffee and cake.  The chocolate ones were called “Occhio del bue” (Eye of the Ox).  It was an excellent bar-cum-cafe and it occurred to us that there surely must be a gap in the market in the UK for places like this – part cafe, part bar.  According to Fulvio the owner from Brazil, people tend to eat the buns for breakfast and the cakes in the afternoon.