Bella Itlia
La Vacance
Let us start in the middle.
We are sitting in the sun somewhere in Italy 1969 listening to the music of Jane Birkin making orgiastic sighs in a song banned in UK hoping our daughters were otherwise engaged.
It was on our annual pilgrimage to Bella Italia. It started with the enjoyable preparation weeks before by my zealously studying route maps and the red Guide Michelin to establish best (and cheapest) Itinerary
Our first hotel selection was La Christallo in Riccione a new hotel which offered full board at gthe princely sum of £2.50 per head. under a Snr Giliozzi
Comes the day we are all up 5.30 am ready to catch the 9 clock ferry from Dover Our Ford Anglia 1960 era crowned with roof rack I recall that Stanley Newman had ordered it but wisely dint buy the car
After debarking from the ferry disaster was not long in striking En route to the motorway the roof rack disengaged and the contents crashed onto the road behind us As I remember the principle loss was a crate full of Coca Cola Could have been worse. w The keep to the left or is it right signs and the counter clockwise roundabouts were ever present threats to our lives The huge roadside posters La Redoute baffled me and still do we always booked for the period after August 25 th marking the mass European return to work from the sun
Except for the Germans for whom the lure of gold then at $35 a gram kept them filling the jewellery shops.
A drawback however was that it often marked the return of the rain too
One forgettable time on the Italian Autostrada the rain came down in sheets that our feeble British windscreen wiper barely coped with
Our hotel of choice was La Christallo in Riccione had not long opened it was a great choice Snr Giliozzi however had a problem. The hotel was built without planning permission 1. 2. but not then apparently in La Bella Italia. Snr Gilliozzi had booked a meeting with the Judge
I don’t know the outcome but our friend Snr Giliozzi opened another hotel in the Ligurian Riviera and invited us there for the future We tried it but it was not to our taste so we moved on back to Riccione were we found the Hotel Lungomare on the beach for several visits.
It is membered well. Sophia Lorens sister bathed on our beach and another client was an incredibly beautiful blonde willowy German girl alone with her son when she sedately drifted into the dining room she was a show stopper.
We had friends from UK stay there with us more than once
A little gossip Jane and her husband have now passed so I may forget my customary tact
One of the Hotel managers was a handsome German always in a green suit whom we dubbed lasagne verdi Jane was a terrible flirt and was obviously attracted to him but there can be no doubt if the occasion arose she would run for cover like a frightened mouse
Her son Peter then about 9 with whom I shared an interest in photography (Marie once bought him a baseball cap ) who like us was not overtly religious until his father died suddenly when he was transformed into becoming very religious indeed.
The beach for the Lungomare was across the road from the hotel our normal routine after breakfast colazione in the vernacular was to make for the sea and for the sunbeds the towels of the Germans had already blitzed the the best spots but there was enough sun for all then the beach hawkers arrived the most welcome was Maria with her bombalone and the man with cocomero even roasted sardines ‘
then the manager with his menu arrived he invariably announced “today we have the veal” to our un-surprise I went off to find an English newspaper only to be told “no today ,today yesterday, today, today tomorrow “
One night we left our girls fast asleep in bed and we sneaked off to a local restaurant in the sixties this wasn’t so reckless as it would be today we had not been seated long before another guest at our hotel found us and told us the children were crying
We made a trip from Riccione to the mini hilltop republic of San Merino and we watched a parade of entire uniformed militia through the narrow streets of the city; most enjoyable was the weekly market at Riccione a long uphill walk away but worth it the stall barkers yelling “cheaper than Marks and Spencer ” the goods on offer from the long ranks of stalls covering every manner of merchandise. The holiday makers were thick on the ground The Germans stayed in the town jewellery shops.
Shoes, handbags and leather-ware a speciality. I remember with amusement we had been cajoled into buying some souvenir knick-knack which was spotted by a rival stall holder who promptly held up an identical piece at half the price for fun
there was a camaraderie among the stallholders that would never undercut each other.
The ice cream too with a myriad of flavours unknown to us Pistachio? was a magnet
Too soon it was time to leave la Bella Italia but a little pleasure remained planning an interesting return route to the real workaday world