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By (user no longer on site) OP
over a year ago
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** I'm going to do this in parts, this is part one **
We sat in the small local bar situated on the ground floor of a corner block of flats, the plastic chairs and tables with thin paper tablecloths held in place by clothes pegs held a memory of past holidays.
The locals, more extended family than patrons, laughed, teased and reminisced loudly but always in good nature. We, not speaking a gram of Italian, couldn’t understand but watching the expressions and the gestures, smiled and agreed that we’d come to the right place, off the tracks, uncomfortable but authentic.
The weather was grey, the sea was metallic Van Gogh night sky and the sandy beach was now mostly foam.
We’d come to Lido di Ostia on a whim, sure there were Roman ruins to view on the way but we both had an urge to hear the ocean and smell salt on the breeze.
We’d hired a car and driven the wonderfully named Via del Mare out of Rome to this shabby harbour town, a forgotten town, tourist free.
So here we were trying to fit in by having a milky cappuccino before 11:00 and a bombolone for breakfast, the locals prefering red wine and beer exposed our smart tourist pretensions. “Shall we join them?” she said, I ordered a bottle of red, all hands and vague noises, it didn’t pair well with the custard filled bomba but we grinned at the clash of flavour as a couple argued on the pavement outside the bar, hands chopping the air like axe strokes.
In broken English a man, mid 50’s, long black beard yet with slicked back white hair and grizzled weather worn skin, asked our names “here we all know each other by name, if you drink wine with us you share your name”. We gladly went along with this piratical looking mans request. Before heading out to Rome we thought it would be amusing to travel under pseudonyms, “I’m Basil, and this is my wife Rosemary” The mans eyes smiled as he heard our names “I am Caius, and how was it that you two herbs should come together?”
“We met in Mexico” the old lie came easily to Rose, “He was a smuggler, I was border patrol, I caught him, he stole me” Caius raised his bottle of beer in the air and proclaimed “here’s to your fantasy life” and drained the contents in one. The truth of where and how we met was more mundane than that, but we were both loath to admit that story to anyone.
“Lets walk” I said, we paid the tab and said a warm “Arrivederci” to our drinking buddies. Half a gram of Italian can get you a long way. We walked along the beach, wind dancing around us, foam flying at our legs. “Is this the med or bournemouth?” asked Rose, I shrugged “Does it matter? listen to that”. The sea was roaring, I’ve been told that negative ion levels at the coast are higher and negative ions create a positive vibe, but its always been the sound of the sea that has made me happy.
With the sea and the wind loud in our ears we had to shout to be heard. “About the other night” bellowed Rose, I looked at her wearily, “I, I don’t want to do that anymore, I don’t want to share, I want me and you and no one else” I looked into her watery eyes, and nodded “I only did it to keep you” I said, “we stop when you want”.
We’d been here before, the rejection of other lovers, the focus on me for a few months followed by the relapse of needing more. I wasn’t lying, I did it for her, to keep her, was it healthy for me? no, i knew this, but she was my drug, my love.
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