Lens: Voigtlander color-skopar 35mm f2.5
Camera: NEX-7, ISO100, f5.6, 1/640, raw
Certain days hide unexpected experiences. Take today, for example. Horrible night, it was so hot I’ve slept no more than three hours. At six I left the bed, got prepared and went to the airport. It was seven in the morning, the sun was still rising, but the air was already warm. It remembered me of the days after school was over. I’ve always spent the month of June in Rome, and I used to leave my parents’ place so early in the morning to reach the pool, the summer camp, or whatever else I was doing to keep me busy and to survive the hot weather. So, while I was walking to the train station Trastevere to take the train to the airport, I couldn’t help but feel like lazy holidays were on. Little did I know, I wasn’t so wrong after all.
At the airport I met with two colleagues, and together we took the plane to Crotone. Buried in the deepest south of Italy, well after the last highway ended into the nothing, Crotone was even hotter than Rome. It was like landing in some African place. The sea was there too. And the feeling of being on holidays grew a little more.
At Crotone’s airport there aren’t any cabs. There are phone numbers you can call if you need a ride. Most of them don’t even work. When we finally got a taxi driver to answer us, he just told us he was too far and he couldn’t bother to pick us up. Luckily the airport hosts a car rental. We took a black, brand new Fiat 500 and drove to the meeting.
The job was quick and easy, we presented our work, we listened to the others’ presentations, we discussed how to proceed, we ate a couple of panini and then we were free. Not free to come back home, though, there aren’t many flights to Rome from that airport.
We got in the car and started driving. The destination was a place called “Le Castelle”. A super small town with a long beach, crystal clear water and a big castle built just over the water, on a sort of small and artificial island. When we arrived we knew exactly what to do: we entered in a gift shop, we bought three of the cheapest swimming trunks, and we run into the sea as fast as we could. Like the three kids we used to be, somewhere in the past.
Now I am back home. My working suite in a plastic bag, the swimming trunks still on. My feet are still coated in a thin, gold layer of sand.