La vita è bella (or, life is a beach)


A stretch of beach and the big blue sea. Sun-tanned women in small bikinis. Hairy men in speedos and dark shades. The old town by the foot of the mountain. A labyrinth of alley ways and balcony’s with linen left to dry in the sun. Little old ladies watering the flowers. A young couple on a vespa rolling slowly down the cobbled street. A beautiful woman in a cream coloured wedding dress.

Gelateria’s and pasticceria’s.

Qui, si mangia bene, a proud Siciliano informs me.

I’ve been to Italy more times than any other country outside Sweden. I’ve visited Le Cinque Terre, Firenze, Bologna, Venezia (twice) Amalfi, Positano, Sorrento, Capri, Sardegna, Sicilia. I’ve worked in Calabria and studied in Rome.

And although there are slight differences (the Italians would surely argue, for them, every region is a different world) you know what you’re gonna get in Italy.

It’s a package deal which comes with a few extra kilos of pasta, parmigiano and pastries.

I relax and pour myself some more wine.

La vita è bella.