This Will Be The Last Time

 We drove about 30 minutes to an hilltop town called Recanati. It has magnificent views overlooking the Adriatic,  the Conero (a high chalky colored hill type cliff) and the pilgrimage town of Loreto where ill Catholics go to heal. Recanati is a quirky town with a mix of bars, historical monuments, churches and piazzas full of restaurants. The food was good as we munched on this special bruschetta complete with a le Marche Mozzarella ball filled with creamy cheese. Leaving the piazza we encountered small side streets, even ones where the weekly laundry was being hung out to dry. That's how we roll here.

 For twenty years we have visited the Sibillinis. One year we bought a house at the base of them. That didn't work and is another story. Today when I looked out our kitchen balcony window I could tell it would be a good day up there, it was so clear. We drove up through all the twists and turns, the switchbacks that made me happy I had an automatic, and the endless views. The road took us to that special lake, Fiastra, that dotted the valley azzura blue.  After a Fanta and a chocolate filled cornetta at the lake, we wound our way up to close to 6000 feet to a restaurant near the summit.  Eventually after gorging ourselves, Mark on a paparadelle made with cinghiale chunks and Lynda a simple but tasty gnocchi, a little red wine and a huge Caprese we left to make our way down the mountain but not before we took in some of God's marvelous handiwork. I couldn't leave before I took this pic of an old guest home on the side of the mountain.  A little fixing up and it could ...

 We have been going to Italian beaches for a number of years now. Each time we go there is something different going on. One time there was a beach Zumba class but this time we saw a beach bocce class for mature ladies. Since we both play bocce sometimes,  it was interesting to see the adaptation for the beach. Something we have never seen is this sand peninsula that was formed due to the low tides. The next photo is later in the day when tides returned the sea to the sand. While it was low a mother and son play a paddleball game. There was a group of foreign students on a class trip frolicking in the water. When the wind picked up a sailing school was spotted coming out of the marina into the sea and later some windsurfing officianados zipped across the water. The beach is vast as it extends from the Marina to who knows where. And of course, suitable for the END of the post, the bare butts that are so prevalent on the beach. The End. (My camera must have gotten carried away)