As a child, I have a small skate caught. The ray was initially a strange disc just above the seabed, which moves slowly and with a kind of wings, a short time later, a dark-gray balls in my net. I made him proud on the beach where he was admired by guests. to catch the rays was simple. I had him kept the Nets in front of his nose, he was into swimming. In Sperlonga always be simple. Here you could win bowling tournaments, water skiing learn in the hotel pool, go to the painter Victor Koulbak for morning exercise. The sixteen year-old Flavia, which might have been the daughter of Ornella Muti wanted to spend, with the twelve-year-old Beniamino hold hands, who all did not understand who would prefer to run away to his friend Luca. Luca, who secretly read books Samurai, Pink Floyd, The Wall 'as the Bible called and spoke to want to later be surfers in front of Big Sur. I doubted at that time not because he would soon celebrate off the coast of California's success.
In the hotel there were no phones, no minibar, no TV. There was no air conditioning or mosquito nets, there were beds for nearly 100 guests and a stone floor that cooled and then the feet when the thermometer indicated inside the concrete construction for well over 30 degrees. Army has played a barbecue at night while our bathing suits drying on the balcony. In the distance are some dog barked, and in the morning, at sunrise, an old rooster crowed the staff in the kitchens and showers us with the. The sweat of the night had to be washed off before we, the men in linen suits and women in summer dresses, in the breakfast room each nodded. We, that was gold traders, lawyers, professors of literature, a dealer from Berlin-Kreuzberg called Mohrchen, crane builders, artist, Hatter from Florence, journalists and almost infinite number of children who behave too knew at the breakfast table talking quietly and politely asked for permission when they get up and go to the beach wanted.
The coastal city of Sperlonga was at the end of the beach on a rock in the Middle Ages as a fortress built by the residents and dressed chalk white. After Sperlonga could not drive a car, you had an infinite number of steps in narrow streets rise up. On the market place two small cafes, in one of them, Max Frisch in 1952, sat and wrote a postcard to Publishers Unseld. In Sperlonga, is fresh at that time delighted, that he was finally a 'pure existence' is possible.
in over fifty years has changed Sperlonga. On the beach, a hotel was made to the next, and although the deck chair series are still to be counted on one hand, is pure existence 'only if you happen to find one hotel that is hidden at the end of a long, sandy driveway. A hotel in which there is still no air conditioning, no phones, not a single TV. By 23 clock closes out the light and the doorman in the lobby. In the rooms will be whispered, because the walls are thin and you do not disturb the neighbors want. The hotel has lost his fourth star, because travelers now expect a different comfort, however, prices were increased. If, pure existence can offer, "no price is too high.
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