For as long as I can remember my parents and I spent our summer vacation at the Wörthersee in southern Austria. We always started the 12 to 14 hour drive in the early morning hours of a weekday in July. And by early I mean 2am early. Usually the excitement of the upcoming long drive and the prospect of swimming in the lake for three weeks kept me up all night but I always looked forward to being wrapped into a blanket and positioned on the back seat where I lay stretched out for the remainder of the night and next day. Once the sun came up we stopped for breakfast and as I tossed the blanket aside that had kept me warm all night, summer fun could begin and I could not wait to get to our destination.

Every year we stayed in the same small, family oriented hotel and every year we met up with the same people who had become good friends over the years. The kids all got along and played together all day and night while the adults mingled on the small “beach”, had cocktails at night and went dancing. Life was good. The weather in southern Austria is not always predictable, not even in the summer and we often had our daily outdoor routine interrupted by rain fall. On cooler days we would go hiking, picked blueberries, or visited neighboring towns, but what I remember most is being in or on the lake for three weeks straight. It really was a carefree time when kids could roam about without much supervision and adults could have their grown up time without worrying about what their off spring was up to, even after the sun went down.

The couple my parents became more friendly with than anyone else also had one daughter, the same age as me and our families always made sure we had rooms right next to each other so Andrea and I could have slumber parties or talk on the adjoining balconies all night long while our parents were out.

And then one year, the year before I started first grade my parents changed their plans and decided to vacation in Italy. But not just any place in Italy, not even a place that could have broadened our cultural horizon, oh no, the place they chose was Milano Marittima. Here is what Wikipedia has to say about this gem on Italy’s Adriatic Sea:

“Milano Marittima è una località nel comune di Cervia, molto rinomata per la sua vocazione turistica, frequentata soprattutto da giovani per la folta presenza di street bar, sale giochi, discoteche e pub.”

It does not take a translator to understand “street bar”, “disco”, and “pub”, si? In other words, Milano Marittima is well known for its young tourism scene. My parents should have known the moment my jet-setting aunt, a woman who has always pretended to be younger than she actually is, recommended this place as a nice change from the idyllic Wörthersee. They did not notice the gigantic red flag but instead drove straight into absolute mayhem. Not only had my aunt talked them into this, she went one step further and talked them into the hotel she had stayed at a few times as well, a monstrosity of 1000 rooms, all of them facing onto the “discoteche” next door, at least the one they had reserved for us. The first night was spent rocking out to Italian disco tunes of the 70s while trying our hardest to catch up on the sleep we had lost on our drive in 110 degree heat in a car without air conditioning. We did finally all nod off around 2am only to be awoken a mere three hours later by the discoteche patrons calling it a night and starting up their Ferraris, Fiats, and Vespas. Wide awake and bleary-eyed we went to breakfast and started our day, at least we had a beach day to look forward to and the chance to relax by the sound of soft ocean waves. When we finally managed to carry all of our gear the five blocks to the beach we were greeted by the following scene:

Yes, this is an actual photo of the beach and those are all umbrellas… We were assigned our space in row 12, umbrella numero tre. And I am using the word “space” lightly as you can see for yourself. We did make friends quickly however, but I am still wondering to this day if those friendships were formed out of pure necessity. Since you were already invading umbrella Number 4, 2, as well as rows 11 and 13 you might as well try to get along. The most dear memory of this vacation is that I learned to swim without the aid of floating devices and that the kids at our neighboring table in the hotel’s dining room hall used to actually sit underneath the table eating spaghetti out of their shoes while their mother chose to ignore the entire scene. As for the rest: it is a blur. Literally! A blur of my mother’s second degree sunburn, that left her sleeping on the tiled floor in the bathroom and my dad’s diagnosis with “beach collapse”. He literally had a breakdown and was on doctor’s orders to stay in the hotel room for a few days, a room that was surprisingly devoid of noise during the day while the night club was closed and everyone was busy finding their umbrella (we never managed to get a room in a different part of the hotel as it was booked solid all summer – a fact that still blows my mind).

Never had I seen my parents so happy at the end of vacation and our drive home was filled with cheer and jubilation. We could not wait to get home-sweet-home. My dad took another week of sick time to recover from Milano Marittima and the following year we went back to good old rest and relaxation, a place that looked more and more like paradise after our Italian experience:

We vacationed in southern Austria for a few more years until I became a teenager and my parents took another bold step and ventured into Spain and its lovely islands. They did find new places for us to enjoy during our annual three week hiatus, lovely places that allowed us to have as much fun as we did during those years in Austria, making new friends and coming home recharged. But of all the vacation destinations of my child- and young adult hood the Wörthersee remains the most cherished.

Today’s Running Tip: Wear Road ID!

When running in a new and unfamiliar tell someone how long you will be running for and be sure to have ID, preferably Road ID on you with an emergency contact and the phone number of the person traveling with you.