A Day at the Beach

I woke up feeling pessimistic, which is going to be pivotal in my mood during today's events, but more on that to come. I decided late last night that I was going to go back to the sea today, since it was going to be hot and humid in Rome. I know the argument "you can go to the beach anywhere, do something you can't do in Maine" but I wanted to go to the Mediterranean sea and eat Mediterranean seafood, which I can't do in Maine. So I found a beach online, about an hour by train and decided to head there. No here's where the pessimism comes into play. I woke up this morning, and realizing I was going to the beach by myself and opening myself to trouble, I decided to pack light. I brought my camera (a must), my phone (for logistics) and my coin purse. I assumed that my stuff would be riffled through while I was at the beach, and maybe even stolen, so with that in mind I only brought things I could part with. I got up at 9, made breakfast, burned my hand fooling with the oven (not that bad, just enough that I felt it) and then missed the first train to the coast, so that I had to wait for the second one. I had 31 euro in my coin purse, and spent 8 on train tickets, since I figured that if someone stole my camera, phone and wallet, they would at least leave me my return ticket to Rome. I got to the beach, and didn't have sunscreen, since the TSA was kind of enough to remove it from my carry on (my own stupid fault) when I flew from Greece to Rome. The cheapest bottle of sun screen I could find was 11 euro, which leaves me at 12 euro for lunch. I got to the beach, swam for a bit, hung out and then went to find seafood. I found a place, and noticed that they had the fish of the day for 7 euro. I figured that I could get a coke and the fish of the day for 10 euro, and then maybe get a gelato on the way back to Rome. I sat down, ordered, realized that there was a 2 euro cover charge (standard in Italy) and scratched the gelato from the menu. The fish of the day was mackerel, which wasn't squid, but I couldn't afford anything more expensive. The waiter brings me a dish 10 minutes later, which I thought was speedy. I asked her "is this the fish of the day" to which she responded "yes it's very fresh." Her english wasn't very good, my italian isn't much better and I wasn't going to argue with her since I assumed she knew best. She didn't, and halfway through the dish the head waiter came over, apologized and told me I was eating fish tartar instead of the mackerel. I confessed that I didn't think it looked or tasted like mackerel, but what did I know. He took the dish away, and ten minutes later brought the mackerel. It was quite good, an entire fish, and I finished it and asked for the bill. He brought it, and to my surprise it was for 23 euro. Turns out, that as well as the 3 euro coke and 2 euro cover charge, that blasted mackerel was 7 euro by hectokilogram. I was in shock and very troubled, and confessed that I only had 12 euro with me to pay. The head waiter and my waiter, neither of which spoke very good english, couldn't understand this and brought the Canadian owner to my table. He was outraged, and ignoring my offer to work off the rest of the tab, told me to leave the restaurant. I feeling, ashamed and dishonest, returned to the beach, swam for a bit, and then got back on an early train to Rome. I intend to mail the restaurant the 12 euro and a letter explaining and apologizing for my mistake, but until then my conscious is guilty. All because I didn't trust people enough to bring my credit card to the beach. Here's some pictures:

There's a full moon tonight, so that's what those last three pictures are. Tomorrow I'm walking to some of the parts of Rome I haven't seen, as well as scouting gelato places out, and then its home to pack and begin preparations for Tuesday's flight. Goodnight!