The Sweet Start to Summer in Calabria

While the wet, cold winter felt like it would last an eternity, we have finally cast off our sweaters and rainboots in favor of bare feet and shorts.

The swallows (le rondini) have taken up temporary residence in the nooks of abandoned houses near our home. They divebomb flying insects, chirping merrily...and dropping poop bombs all over our poor car!

In the house, I've opened all the windows to let the summer breeze in. Fra and I (as well as the cats) practically live on the balcony, now that we've set it up with chairs, a table, and even a silly foot pool Fra bought. We sip spritzes and watch the sunset cast a pink glow over Davoli.

And while most Italians aren't ready to dip a toe in the Ionian, I'm there. I have my routine down pat: I strip down to my suit and soak up the sun for a bit. Then, like an eager kid who can't wait any longer, I mosey down to the water, let the cold soak in, then submerge myself. I'm never happier than when I'm floating on my back, listening to the sounds of distant bimbi playing on the shore.

It's early days for the summer. The lidi are open, but their umbrellas and chairs are lonely. Wistful. Waiting for the day when they'll fill up. In Davoli, the work to repair the damage caused by Cyclone Harry isn't complete, and we're all hoping it will be soon so we can resume our tradition of where we post up on the beach.

And in the mountains, where I escape from the heat down below (it can be 5 or more degrees cooler here), we feel summer in a different way. It's always a surprise to see who has arrived from Milan or America, ready to shed their big-city life for a few slow, delicious weeks with old friends and distant cousins in Davoli.

Soon, we'll start going out regularly for late-night beers and stomach-stuffing aperitivi with the visitors. We try to soak them up for the brief time they're here.

It's too hot for my morning walk, but the mountains are still cool. We hiked a new trail with a big group a few weeks ago, and I'm ready to return for more of that mountain fresh feeling.

Soon, festa season will begin. We'll greet friends and neighbors as if we haven't seen them in years, even if it's only been a few days since the last event. We'll (well, I) dance the tarantella, eat salsiccia, drink local wine, and stay out late enough to make us grumpy and sluggish the next day.

Summer in Calabria is magical. Busy. Exhausting. And I can't wait for it to be in full swing!