I wrote this article for my blog several years ago…… I rediscovered it yesterday and thought it worthy of a resurrection…..
Confused, you watch the others to see how it is done. After all, they are now all old hands at everything here. Tanned, comfortable and relaxed, the other guests seem almost brash in their state of relaxation. It’s hard not to contrast that with our own state of Lilly-whiteness and awkwardness, and of course we do, casting admiring glances at the other guests and commenting about them in hushed tones to each other.
It’s a mixed bunch. There is the woman who is not just remarkably tanned but very evenly tanned to boot. She moves like a Queen with her head held high and shoulders back as if gliding a catwalk and everything she does is performed with a wilful grace and poise that probably hides a deep lack of self confidence. Like a bronzed narcissist, she sits holding her phone apparently seeking a good picture but in reality, she is simply examining her own appearance in selfie mode. Her husband or lover seems a normal sort and drinks his cold beer in silence ignoring his partners'e antics.
The American family is wiry and deeply tanned. Typical California without an ounce of fat between them, they place fitness above all else and are almost certainly vegetarians or certainly low fat eaters. They talk loudly among themselves in that distinct crisp California accent oblivious to the presence of others in the Hotel bar. Their talk is all of comparisons and a love for all things Croatian or European. They are wanna be Europeans earning a living on the west coast.
We look at each other and smile. Pretty soon we have code for our fellow quests. The Actress. The Americans. And other such names. We finish our breakfast and go back to our room to don swimwear and copious amounts of factor 50 sun cream. Among the bronzed elites of the Villa Barroni guest club, it wouldn’t pay to burn!
That was just over a week ago. Since then, we watched the Actress and her husband closely. They fought. She cried but hid the tears behind her large sunglasses and then they spent time separated – she by the sea and he by the pool. The Americans were long gone and indeed had left that very day that we met them replaced by an assortment of Croatians, Germans, Hungarians and Italians.
We had gotten to know the comings and goings of the Croatian family – a youngish looking couple with dark hair and complexions, but strangely enough – no tan! and their small daughter who would be lovingly scooped up whenever she got more than 1 meter away. The mother looked angry a lot. Her partner looked resigned to that. Sometimes however, they frolicked like young lovers in the silky Adriatic as their tiny daughter slept. There was still something magical between them despite the recent arrival of their small bundle of joy.
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