I visited Porto Cesareo again recently. As a quick navigation, head down the heel and it’s on the right. Golden shot!
Porto Cesareo is where the glamorous strut their stuff along the promenade and mingle on expensive looking yachts.
It is totally ‘Bella Figura’ and some; you’d be ill-advised to wear that scraggy top with your frayed shorts and may you face the Gorgon should you tuck those socks into sandals!
Let’s hope the fashion fairy is far, far away when Uncle Tom comes to stay.
However, this didn’t seem to deter amorous pizzeria owner, Ricardo, who seemed to fancy everything that moved as we tried to enjoy a pasta lunch.
Even the dark glasses couldn’t zone out the guy’s laser beam eyes.
Heaven help us!
However, randy Ricardo was nothing compared to his dog which attached limpet-like to my companion’s leg.
With good ol’ British reserve, she acted as if nothing was happening while eating her food and dealing with a hungry mosquito.
The dog was quite adept at snabbing a morsel or two, as well making itself available at every table.
Transfixed, we watched a goldfish circulate a fashionable fish bowl.
We soon repaired to the promenade to watch the undulations of a boat or two and saw a yacht heading for shore.
A tanned alpha male jumped off, his glamorous partner in tow, swishing blonde hair back and forth as they walked to the town.
Then suddenly the heavens opened.
Everyone vanished, leaving us huddled beneath a jutting roof.
Ricardo reappeared with beckoning hand; his attentions at this point a mixed bag!
We braved the rain and headed south. Some church bells were competing with the town’s barking; including the booming voice of some ‘case’.
Let’s just say, the lights were on, but they were faulty. And then we saw it!
As bold as brass, a young man, thin as a whippet, had nabbed a bag. He scooted off on his Vespa.
Shouting! Barking! The carabinieri arrived...
Ah! We sighed. But these particular agents of the law were on a jolly to the bar.
Another day of jet set life in Porto Cesareo.