7/4 Thursday
It’s Independence Day! Not here,
though, just another gorgeous summer day at the sea. We walk to the sandy beach
and get our chairs and umbrella from Bikini Gramma. It’s just lovely. Then, all
of a sudden, dark clouds roll in and thunder starts up. We hold off for as long
as we can, then head to a beach bar to wait out the showers. While we’re
sitting with our beer, Gramma and her partner start packing up all their chairs
and locking them up, ready to leave for the day. Bob goes over, gestures are
exchanged, Leaving?? Sun’s coming back!, No Sun, No Money, We’re Outta here!
Tomorrow Sun, Chairs Already Paid! Ok, Ok, Credit Tomorrow. Seeya.
Sure enough, the sun soon comes back
to us, and everyone enjoys the sand and the sea. The beach is once again lively
with naked babies and teenagers playing Picigin.
The Croatian people are attractive
in an unexpected way, all lean and tall, elongated legs and torsos, light skin
and hair. The women all are six feet tall, at least. The young men have thin,
angular faces, the girls have little baby faces with hair to the waist. I see what seems like
the same nine-year-old everywhere, a long blonde braid bouncing down her back.
The guys like a Russian-mafia style buzz cut hair, and the older men have a
grizzled, red-faced, workin’ man look to them. And then something dramatic
happens to all those tall women, because all the old ladies are stout and
short.
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