Viareggio

"It is time to get up. The time is now seven o'clock." the British voice repeated clearly for the third time. Rolling over to find the off button on my phone, I turned off the alarm and trudged towards the bathroom. As usual, Sarah and I were off to a late start on our trip to the beach. Awaking a little over an hour before we had to meet at the Santa Maria Novella train station, Sarah and I left the house with about twenty minutes to get there. Sarah doesn't have a bike, so we commenced on our walk. We took a wrong turn, following a sign directing tourists to Santa Maria Nouvo (a hospital founded by Dante's Beatrice's Father (I think) in the Middle Ages.) Making it to the train station a little late, but in time to catch the train with our group, we traversed to Viareggio.

Viareggio is a very popular Italian and tourist destination alike, but luckily (although the beaches still seemed crowded to me) the town was not as crowded as in previous months. Unlike Southern beaches, these beaches were filled with row upon row of lounge chairs. Every 30 feet or so, the chairs changed color to represent the ownership of another beach chair/snack business. The chairs were 5-6 (or 50 for chair, umbrella, and tent) euro a piece and had bouncers that prohibited passerby from laying down towels on the beach.

Sarah, Shauna, and I walked down the beach, ever so often attempting to lay a towel down, only to get warded off by a bouncer/life guard. Finally, we were told that the free beach was down by the rocks separating the beaches from the yacht and boat sales. As we walked the beach, the rocks barely in sight, our eyes were bombarded with a multitude of unfamiliar sights. On the white Destin sand, a beach walker might come across a man or two in a spandex speedo and be somewhat appalled and filled with humor. The beaches of Viareggio were filled with men and women of all shapes and sizes. The men had on a variety of different tight short scraps of cloth. The women wore everything from one pieces to thong bikinis. The children...Well in the park by our apartment, where Sarah and I often enjoy sitting and experiencing Italian culture, we've seen mothers change the pants and underwear of their four year old children. At the beach these children 0-6 ran around naked. Some girls had on bikini bottoms, and many were nude. To Americans, the montage of uncircumcised boys lining the beaches was a culture shock.

We enjoyed our time laying out (smudged up to the rocks!) and thoroughly enjoyed our lunch of lasagna and gellato. We walked around for about an hour, taking in the sights of the mountains by the sea. The shops were a mix of architectural styles - old west to the 9 wonders of the world. However, we layed out most of the day, so I didn't get very many good pictures - just one or two. We grabbed a slice of pear pound cake to split on the ride home and then grabbed Lebanese food for dinner on our street. It was a fantastic day that I hope to repeat soon!

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