Andiamo al mare ~ Beachy Places I adore

It’s that time of year again when Andiamo al mare is on everyone’s lips. Three simple words that conjure up so much that’s quintessentially Italian, and utterly different from let’s go to the beach back home. 

I was born and raised in a beach town on the central California coast. As locals, we never went to the boardwalk beach—that was for tourists. We went to the wild beaches north of town. This meant crossing fields of Brussel sprouts to descend hardscrabble paths on eroding sedimentary cliffs. It meant a stretch of nearly empty brown sand girded by pontoons of rock daubed purple with ice plant blooms.

It meant admiring the Pacific, which is rarely pacific, from a distance as it hurtled rips at the bluffs. It meant crystalline air, cool in our lungs and blustery in our hair and a brisk walk with trousers rolled up. It meant a peanut butter sandwich sprinkled with sand.

And if we were lucky, the shining curve of a white-sided dolphin or the breach of a humpback whale might appear from the endless well of ocean.

In Italy, that’s not what it means to go to the beach.

My first introduction to Italian beach culture was in the 1980s on the stretch of Tuscan coast called Versilia. I was a 20-year-old kid going to school in Florence and when I visited friends in Lucca, they took me to Viareggio. Andiamo al mare, they had said. 

I gaped at the stabilimenti (beach establishments) stretching as far as the eye could see up the flat coast. Fluttering umbrellas with matching lounges. Each stabilimento staking claim with their particular colors. 

A row of spogliatoi and bagni with wooden-slated doors, a kiddie play area, and outdoor showers where I could see golden-skinned young men in speedos preening under the spray.

I gaped again. This swim attire was just not done where I came from. 

And there, at a table on a white platform on the sand, my gaze slicing past orange and white striped ombrelloni to the placid sea, I learned that every self-respecting beach establishment served a luscious spaghetti called Frutti di Mare. Shell fish lapped by white wine, garlic, parsley… it was, in word, seductive.

While the wild beaches of the central California coast are indelible in my DNA, it didn’t take long for me to adjust to Italian beach culture. (No adjusting needed for Spaghetti Frutti di Mare.)

Since we’re in the time of andiamo al mare, here’s one of many beachy places I adore in Italy. 

The ancient Greeks claimed Hercules founded Tropea and called it Tropheum after he fought off giants there. As a historian I love the way the Greek myths reignite in my head when I’m in these areas colonized by the Greeks in the 8th and 7th centuries BC. 

And Tropea's beaches consistently rank among the cleanest in Italy. Rich history and excellent beaches equals stupendo in my book!

Corso Vittorio Emmanuele, a pedestrian street cutting through the center of Tropea, ends marvelously at a sheer cliff edge, protected by a railing. Here, people hang their heads over for a soaring eagle view of white sands, turquoise waters and a sanctuary on a rocky outcrop far below.

The main beach, to the right of the sanctuary has good sand, (no pebbles) and offers stabilimenti as well as a free section. To the left of the sanctuary the beach is also sandy and one can choose from an array of stabilimenti.

Walk to the left of the sanctuary along the Via Lungomare, past the campsite to reach another section of beach. Turn to the right when you see a sign for Aquamarine Beach Club. This is an attractive turquoise restaurant on stilts with lounges below. A pretty place for lunch with a super view. The beach here has stony patches making it harder to get into the water.

Just to the right is a more simplistic establishment called L'Oasi, with a small wooden deck and a palm frond roof. I was here with my Colombian cousins and they said it reminded them of something on a Colombian beach. After I chatted with the owner for a minute, he filled plastic glasses with wine from a spigot on a wooden barrel and handed them to us. We pulled up stools and spontaneously hung out with our not-planned-for afternoon wine. 

We returned later for grilled fish off plastic plates, and a free carafe of wine was offered because it was my birthday. Who needs more than that on their birthday? It’s the simple things in life. 

Out of town: Michelino Beach, just north of Tropea in Parghelia, is not to be missed—it may be the loveliest beach on this coastline.

To get it to it, park in Parghelia on or near Viale Luigi Razza. The path goes under the rail road tracks and then passes by Pousada Cafè Michelino, an outdoorsy restaurant/bar with lawns and different nooks with couches and hammocks. There are no facilities at the beach, so if you want food and drink, this is the place.

The path brings you to a series of relatively steep stairs that deposit you on the beach. My cousin said the water here was the clearest she had ever swum in. 

Le Grotticelle Beach south of Tropea on the promontory called Capo Vaticano is another gem. Driving there, google maps navigator got confused, and it took us down an extremely  precipitous road which we then had to take all the way down, in order to turn around. The road you want is called Località Grotticelle. 

Some say this beach is too crowded and not clean. I was there in September and it was great. Paddle boats can be rented to explore coves.

When driving over Capo Vaticano, you will pass road-side stands where you can load up on the famous Tropea onions, tomatoes, and local wine.

Back in Tropea: In the center you’ll find twisting streets and white-washed alleys with outdoor tables tucked into corners next to flower boxes of purple pansies. The Corso has a plethora of shops selling local products, bathings suits, sarongs, and most importantly, lots of caffes offering tartufo, affogato, and other gelato-oriented delights.

My choice for tartufo, (and they had mighty good waffles too) is Caffe del Corso. They have a larger establishment across the street, but I like the small one. 

Tartufo, a dessert made from gelato in a dome-shaped chocolate-hazelnut mold with a creamy mousse-like center, was invented in Pizzo, a town just north of Tropea and thus all the caffes in these parts are clamoring with tartufo offerings.

Osteria della Cipolla Rossa, down on the lungomare, is a truly memorable experience focused on eco-sustainability and the humble red onion of the region. There’s no menu. The owners prepare dishes with what they got at the market that morning. Each dish is accompanied by a perfectly selected wine. But… I didn’t see Stanley Tucci’s Searching for Italy and I didn’t know this restaurant was featured… so lord knows now how tough it might be to get a reservation here.

Le Volpi e L'Uva (in an alley in the town center) is a homey place with honest food.

Quei Bravi Ragazzi on Via IV Novembre will fit the bill if you’re craving Napoli style pizza. Or try their excellent pasta con mollica e acciughe and after your meal, the famous local liquor, Vecchio Amaro del Capo in a frosted glass.

For cocktails Al Migliarese in Largo Migliarese is the place to go. The drinks are pricey but innovative, and very good. The outside seating on comfortable cushioned benches in the white-stone piazza is charming.

Stay tuned for more beachy places I adore!