The Pesaro Wine Festival is being held at Villa Cattani Stuart, which is actually in another town, and the bus only comes once per hour. Since I haven't eaten since breakfast, I take a stroll around the beachfront circle, intending to grab a quick bite before heading out.
When, oh when, will I finally give up my American expectations!!??
The boardwalk is hopping. There are half a dozen places open, with different price points and food selections. I find a restaurant with a decent menu and an open table on the water, and I have a seat in the sun. I wait 15 minutes before the waiter comes to clean the dishes from the previous customers, and I quickly give him my order so as to not waste any time and get to the wine festival -- salmon salad, medium beer, water naturale.
The beer and the water came quickly... along with breadsticks which I chowed into immediately while waiting for my salad.
and waiting... and waiting... and waiting.....
Don't get me wrong, the beer was nice and cold, and it was fun watching the activities on the beach. People in leather jackets had pulled their jeans up above their knees and were wading in the surf. A backhoe was replenishing the beach, spreading and packing off-color sand up against concrete pilings and walkways while little kids stood on fence rails watching. Dogs were walking their masters.
While sitting there I was able to see that the city has constructed several rectangular breakwaters around the sandy beach areas. Some walls of riprap rose two meters above the surface of the water, but the walls running parallel to the shore were even with the surface or just a couple of centimeters above, allowing gentle waves to lap the shore. I got the impression that swimming at those beaches would be more like swimming in a calm lake, than in a sea.
All around me in the restaurant people were living their lives. A group of hoods with shaved heads and white tee shirts slammed beer after beer. Four 30-something women drank spritzes and laughed.
My salad finally came. It was a nice selection of iceberg lettuce, some red cabbage and some rocket, cantelope, a mild, cruchy veg I didn't recognize, and thin slices of salmon which I assume had been poached or smoked. (The menu didn't mention sushi, so I'm not allowing my mind to go there.)
All-in-all it was a nice two hours with food, beer and sun, after which I had no inclination to walk the 4600 feet to the train/bus station, catch a rarely scheduled bus, for a ride who knows how long, to a wine festival where I may be totally under dressed and incapable of making myself understood in a language I don't speak.
So I went to my room and took a marathon nap.