Today had been designated as official “Chill Day.” No plans, no outings, no drivers. Just kicking back to take stock of our adventures thus far and gather our energies for the most important day, tomorrow. Wedding day.
Gianni, Donatella, and Nakita, my Italian cousins from north of Milano, had arrived the night before. After returning from Montoro Inferiore, I had found them in Piazza Antica Seggio, sitting on a stone bench overlooking the sublime view.
Since the villa was full to the brim, my cousins were staying in their camper a few miles farther into the hills behind Praiano. On chill day, they arrived with swimming suits in hand, and we all gathered on the upper terrace to swim, soak up sun on the comfortable lounge chairs, chat, or simply gaze out to sea.
Gianni and Dan were deep in conversation, sitting in chairs at the edge of the terrace, a map spread out before them. Although Gianni speaks limited English and Dan speaks no Italian, “it was nothing to the problem.” They were chatting away just fine.
The girls did a trial run with the bride’s make-up. Nakita basked in the sun. The guys swam. Sharon got into a laundry jag, grabbing every towel and article of clothing that she could find and stuffing them into the washing machine. Before long, the lower terrace railing was festooned with clothing of every sort.
“Chill” isn’t a word in my vocabulary. I usually can’t sit still unless I have a computer or a book at hand, neither of which interest me anyway whenever I’m in Europe. There is just too much to see out there. Although Donatella doesn’t speak any English, I knew that “chill” in any language was not in her vocabulary either.
I suggested the two of us go explore a nearby tower I had been eyeing all week. She didn’t hesitate to say yes, and we charged down the villa’s bottom flight of steps just as Candace was bringing a pitcher of margaritas to the party zone up top.