In Sicily Autumn can wait

It is the first day of Autumn and I am lying on the deck of a boat in a new bikini, idly wondering which Tonnara I am looking at, since Scopello is still some miles away. And hesitating on whether I should actually jump in the water. But why not.

There is the Couscous Fest in San Vito lo Capo, the town is packed, concerts, events, food stands, wine, artisanal beer, pecorino extravaganza with pistachios and chocolate.

And people. Plenty of outgoing, talkative people, making sure I did not spend much of my two days there without exchanging views with fellow human beings.

Whether at the hotel, on the boat, for dinner at Trattoria da Mariella, or at the concert.

Young Marco, flirty Francesco, chatty Vito, sophisticated Massimo e Gloria, Umberto, Captain Salvo, informative Enza.

And also those whose name I did not get: the man of the ticket booth, the very well assimilated Peruvian lady of the souvenir shop, the Tuscan young guys tasting Donnafugata wine, the lady on the beach who took a selfie with Joe Bastianich and was shocked I did not know who this name belonged to.

Skin colour revived, bidding farewell to another summer, ready to face the thunderstorms this Fall is breeding.

Back to Tallinn

Pretty much the summary of my Estonia for the past 12 years or so.

Cold time, but good times, happy times, even exciting times. With a lot of memories and a few surprises. 

Started with discovering non existent unpaved Saaremaa roads to nowhere or pretty Tallinn old town views. Comparing the capital with its neighbours Riga or Vilnius. Realising that Helsinki is really, really close. Or being charmed by that chap with long hair and a penchant for talking non-stop and for philosophising about life, people and the world. And going back many years later, just for work, to find garlic ice cream and traditional marijuana chocolate and also that Tallinn's summer market sells woollen hats, scarfs and ponchos (and buying one, the blue one). 

Good times, happy times, exciting times. And a pinch of melancholia.
And regret