Man, what a day! I swear, Vasto is a wild ride. I woke up early, like, way too early. The sun was barely peeking over the Adriatic, and I was already on my way to the harbor. You know, the one by Via San Rocco? Yeah, that’s the spot.
So, I’m there, right? Just me and my boat, “La Bella Vita.” Sounds fancy, huh? But it’s just a rusty old thing. Anyway, I’m loading up my gear, and I see this old dude, Giovanni, struggling with his nets. I’m like, “Hey, man, need a hand?” He grumbles something in Italian, probably about how young folks don’t help anymore. Classic Giovanni.
I finally get out on the water, and it’s beautiful. The waves are chill, the seagulls are squawking like they own the place. I’m feeling good, you know? But then, bam! My engine starts sputtering. I’m like, “No way, not today!” I’m out there, in the middle of the sea, and my boat’s acting like it’s got a mind of its own.
I’m sweating bullets, trying to fix it. I’m cursing like a sailor—oh wait, I am a sailor! Finally, I get it going again, but not before I drifted way too close to the rocks near Punta Penna. I swear, I thought I was gonna end up as fish food.
After that little scare, I finally start catching some fish. Not just any fish, but the big ones! I’m talking about those beautiful Adriatic bass. I’m feeling like a champ, reeling them in one after another. I even got a couple of tourists on the beach at Lungomare Cordella cheering me on. I’m like, “Yeah, that’s right! This is how we do it in Vasto!”
But then, outta nowhere, a storm rolls in. I mean, come on! I’m not ready for this! The sky goes dark, and the wind picks up. I’m fighting the waves, trying to get back to shore. My heart’s racing, and I’m thinking, “This is it, I’m gonna be a headline: ‘Fisherman Swallowed by Adriatic!’”
I finally make it back, soaked to the bone. I’m dragging my catch up the beach, and guess what? My buddy Marco is there, laughing his head off. “You look like a drowned rat!” he yells. I can’t even be mad. I’m just relieved to be back on solid ground.
So, I’m cleaning my fish at the market on Via Cavour, and this lady comes up to me. She’s all like, “You caught these? They’re huge!” I’m puffing my chest out, feeling like a rockstar. But then she asks if I can cook them for her. I’m like, “Lady, I’m a fisherman, not a chef!”
After all that chaos, I decide to grab a bite at this little trattoria near the piazza. You know the one, right? The one with the best spaghetti alle vongole in town. I sit down, and the waiter brings me a glass of Montepulciano. I’m like, “Yes, please!”
As I’m sipping my wine, I can’t help but think about how crazy today was. One minute I’m battling the sea, the next I’m enjoying a nice meal. Vasto, man, it’s got its ups and downs. But that’s what makes it home.
So, I finish my meal, and I’m walking back to my boat, feeling grateful. I see the sunset over the water, and it’s like the sky’s on fire. I take a deep breath, and I’m like, “Yeah, this is life.”
Tomorrow’s another day, and who knows what’ll happen? But for now, I’m just a tired fisherman, ready to crash. Vasto, you’ve done it again. What a day!