living in italy: a villa weekend

Che bella vita, Barbara said, mouth full, as she took another bite of the fresh, crusty bread loaded with sweet, cherry tomatoes, tangy olive oil and perfect half moons of buffalo mozzarella. Simple pleasures, Mari, they’re the best, this time as she cracked open an ice cold beer to share. We were super sandy and covered in salt water deposits from all the dips we took in the turquoise waters of the Gargano peninsula that morning. We downed the beer and took our last bites of “the perfect lunch,” and headed back to the beach where the boys were kicking a soccer ball around, getting pumped up for the Italy-Spain game.

The Europa Cup is a big deal, and whenever the national Italian team plays a game, the whole country goes crazy. We still didn’t know where we were going to watch it since the villa we were staying in was sans electricity. We hopped in the car and started driving along the coast, searching frantically for a bar, or even some generous neighbors with a TV. After a few hopeless tries, we settled on a restaurant called The Seagull. Will they have a TV? we thought.

We walked in to find the owner, sitting alone in a 75-person dining room, in front of a giant screen, the pre-game special on full blast. He was about fifty, with stunning blue eyes and smoking a cigarette. He timidly motioned for us to come in and Manu, who’s basically our PR rep, introduced himself and us, while immediately pulling up four chairs. 

The quiet owner was all smiles and brought us gelato to snack on before the game started. It felt like we were in his living room, really. The first notes of the national anthem began and we all stood up to sing. As the first kick signaled the start of the game, the man did a quick sign of the cross, turned towards us with a wink as if to say, “Let’s do this,” and sat down, immediately lighting up another Marlboro. 

The entire situation was so bizarre; we were in the middle of nowhere in a restaurant that looked as if it hadn’t changed since 1983, and you could smoke inside. I mean, did we time travel on our way there? Slowly, more people started to trickle in, and soon the place was full. In the second half when Di Natale scored, everyone jumped up screaming and hugging, except the timid owner of course, who just smiled and lit another cigarette. He’s cute for an old guy! Barbara said. The game ended in a tie and everyone was relieved, the reigning World Cup champs were supposed to kick our butts. The owner shrugged and as if to say, Not bad, not bad at all! We paid for our ice creams and shook hands with him on the way out, back to our car, civilization and 2012.