After five nights in one spot, it felt strange packing up and moving on. Eileen was filled up on diesel and LPG and then we headed out east to the Lido di Jesolo. For most of the drive the altimeter told us that we were at sea level, or only one or two metres above it, and there’s not a hill, or even a small mound to be seen. Around midday we pulled into the Camping Village Cavallino, which is towards the western end of the lido near Ca’ Savio. After settling in and setting down roots for three days, we lunched on chunks of honeydew melon with ham, eaten al fresco to the sound of the waves on the beach just metres away. We strolled around the campsite a bit (Rodney needed to check the number plates) and then we stretched out on the beach for an hour or so. We didn’t drive very far, didn’t visit anywhere inspiring, didn’t really do much at all and so it became a gourmet day. In the evening, while I sorted through our photos from the previous week, Rodney created an epicurean dinner. We ate salmon with sauté potatoes, cauliflower and asparagus with a creamy cheese sauce, followed by bowls of rich red strawberries. We sipped on a French bottle of rosé and I think Rodney was enjoying celebrating England’s one-day win over Australia in the cricket and the British Lions victory over the Queensland Reds in the rugby union. We finished our evening watching the movie ‘Local Hero’ and remembered our trip to Scotland and the beach that I ‘sunbathed’ on last October.
On Sunday we got up late; there were no buses to catch, no driving to do, no washing, or shopping needed, this was going to be just a rest day. The morning was spent faffing and lollygagging about and then we wandered over to the beach to gaze out over the Adriatic Sea. We’ve discovered that we’re staying in a German outpost of non-weightwatchers and we’re very glad it’s not a naturist resort because even in swimwear, some of the enormous sights are quite startling. Mr Boobsandbelly in the pitch next to us, doesn’t seem to move out of the sun, or put on anything more than swimming trunks, for breakfast, lunch, or dinner and every hour in between! Or perhaps every German man at this resort is actually pregnant; I have never seen so many pregnant men, who really would look better with some clothes on.
On the beach there was a constant procession of traders walking past us, trying to sell all manner of goods; sunglasses, beach towels, jewellery and even a whole shop full of clothes arrived on the back of a battery powered cart! As every trader passed us, Rodney took to saying “not today, thank you” in his best British accent and the traders always moved on; it seemed to work very well.
Then Malina, the masseur popped up and with no bartering on my part, she dropped her price from €15 to €5 for a ten-minute back massage. I couldn’t say no and for a moment there, I thought I was in Bali…….zzzzz. All we needed was our favourite monkey-man selling hot buttery corn-on-the-cob on the beach in Vietnam, to come along. Even though he dropped his price each day, it was really tasty sweetcorn and would have been a perfect lunch right now on a beach in Italy. Instead, we staggered back to Eileen and finished up the melon and ham, al fresco. We were going to head back down to the beach later, but the clouds gathered above us and by 5 o’clock it was raining, so we freshened up in the showers and moved inside to watch all the men still wandering around outside in only their swimming trunks. The mosquitos here are persistently buzzing; I’ve already been eaten alive and that has to be another good reason for putting clothes on……!
The rain on Sunday night was quite impressive, heavy, blobby, thundery and loud. Then in the morning, with the sun shining again, all the camper folk were outside, busily sweeping up the mess around their vans and slanting their awnings to remove all the trapped excess water. And amongst all the industrious activity, the rabbits hopped around completely unfazed by it all. With our chores completed, we nipped over to the beach with our books in hand for a couple of hours in the sunshine, but the clouds came over, a breeze blew up and the backs of our chairs weren’t really sufficient as windbreaks, so we plodded back to Eileen and played Uno while the rabbits hopped around us.
Lunch was al fresco again (I do love that phrase) and after some emailing, rag-rugging and the booking of our return ferry trips to England on July 24th, we went for a long walk along the beach. The prawn risotto dinner was made all the more enjoyable by the entertainment provided. One of our neighbours suddenly jogged across the path with a broom in hand chasing one of the rabbits and when it did a perfect dummy and doubled back, she turned and chased it back again. I have no idea why that particular rabbit needed chasing, but it was great entertainment. Tomorrow, we’ll leave the beach and head inland to the Italian Lakes.
