The Ocean Was On Fire

There is so much that can be said for Italian hospitality. It really puts Americans to shame. Of course, we have Italy beat on clothes dryers, water pressure and bathtubs, but they really are steps beyond us in treating perfect strangers like they're family, and acting astounded that we take it with such surprise.
I'm back in Monterosso, and staying at one of the B&B's that my friend's family owns. They absolutely would not accept payment, and the room is beautiful - overlooking the sea, breezy, and huge. They brushed off my attempts to pay, saying how glad they were to have me back. The sentiment is returned tenfold - Monterosso is a world away from Malta. And it certainly felt like that after my travel marathon yesterday. As I lugged my suitcases through every possible form of transportation, I arrived in town at dinnertime. Bringing my tired, plane exhausted self to the restaurant my friends work at, they had a huge plate of pasta whipped up, which I inhaled in under five minutes. It was spicy, salty, and very Calabrian - pepperoncini, anchovies, capers, pine nuts, soft cherry tomatoes and whole smashed cloves of garlic. My quality of life skyrocketed after just a few bites. I had little idea of how much better the night could get.
June 24th is the feast day of St. John the Baptist, Monterosso's patron saint, and after the anchovy festival (which I sadly missed), the celebration continued through the night - and for the rest of the weekend. The moon was full and silver, glimmering across the dark, twinkling ocean. As if that wasn't a beautiful enough picture, to celebrate the holiday, all the children set candles out to sea on little paper boats. The sea looked like it was on fire with hundreds of little candles, burning red orange and cutting through the inky darkness. Then the fireworks began - booming thunder and streaks of light and color over the ocean, so close to the cliffs I winced a few times thinking they were sure to fizzle down onto our heads. The streets were packed for the display - fireworks have that effect of immediately making everyone revert back to childhood. With each pop and whistle, everyone can't help but grin, awestruck - eyes glued to the vivid streaks in the sky.
Today was another perfect day. The beach was like I have never seen it, and I understand why my friends, spoiled by its perfection, were complaining about it when the weather wasn't as good earlier in the season. The water was without waves, still and clear, like a plate of glass. You could see through the aquarium water to the colorful rocks lining the bottom, and it seemed like everyone in Cinque Terre was floating along peacefully, bobbing in blissful happiness in the bathtub water. This is my kind of ocean.
I spent a good deal of time reading, but even more time just thinking and watching the children playing, counting the sailboats drifting by on the horizon. My solitude was occasionally interrupted by Emma and her family, a few lounge chairs down, gearing up for the Chile football/soccer match tonight. "Chi-Chi-Chi! Le-Le-Le!" erupted every few minutes, and their enthusiasm was a nice break from the morbid soccer depression that had moved over Italy like a dark cloud after the poor World Cup ending yesterday. My friends even went to far as to throw their Italy shirts out, cursing, kicking the garbage can. My pitiful reassurances that they at least did better then France certainly did not help. Lesson learned.
Aside from sport related issues, If you are in a bad mood in Monterosso, I cannot help you. You must have done something terrible in a former life that you will never be able to atone to. - I couldn't help but think, like a broken record, that this is the happiest I've ever been. I squinted in the warm sun, smiling, occasionally getting up to dip in the water and show off my world famous dog paddle or eat a piece of bruscette. The ocean was filled with fire last night - of candles, saints and fireworks, but today, blissfully oblivious to anywhere else in the world, it truly sparkled again, just in a different way.