The term Lido, originally coming from this island, is used to refer to certain types of outdoor swimming pools especially in Great Britain, and the “Lido deck” on a cruise ship. It also forms the first part of many place names in coastal locations throughout Italy.
A lido (/ˈliːdoʊ/ LEE-doh, /ˈlaɪdoʊ/ LY-doh) is a word inEnglish for a public outdoor swimming pool and surrounding facilities, or part of a beach where people can swim, lie in the sun, or participate in water sports. Lidos tend to be found in towns and cities in southern England, particularly London. On a cruise ship or ocean liner, thedeck with outdoor pools and surrounding facilities is often designated the lido deck.
Lido is an Italian word for “beach” and forms part of the place name of several Italian seaside towns known for their beach, e.g., Lido di Venezia, the barrier beach enclosing the Venetian Lagoon. Possibly, the term found its way into English from English visitors returning from the Lido di Venezia, where sea-bathing took place from the lat7e 19th century.
The reality is, weeeelll. A long white beach , private in places, dotted with the ‘public’ bits. Only on our passiegea the next day did we see the roped off sections, clearly telling you where you belong. Its strange for someone used to NZ BEACHES, free and accessible to all. We have a pass that allows us unto the Lido Beach Club, but we haven’t used it yet or to be truthful, found the said club. We, spent an entire day at The Lido. First get your towel. And they are beautiful towels sold by a promenade vendor. Alison has become adept at barging but falls a little short not understanding Italian numbers. When I interpret the towel guy thinks thats the price. Still, eighteen € for two cotton , beautiful lightweight towels is a bargain. Next day she managed to spruke down from €10 to €5.50 a belt. She is learning.
The beach is an e⛱🌐exercise I observe humanity at its best and worst. There is no shame. Grotesque bodies, huge man breasts, sunken bellies, sagging, necrotic skin, pale bleached anoretic, huge wrinkled, flabby arms, hanging butts. Its all on display and no-one cares.
A Japanese lady walks by, cardboard display, begging, I think, but she is offering, on-the-beach massages. I watch h in dismay as a beautiful German mother, takes all her clothes off a is pampered for a half hour. Three buxom males are next, submitting to her heavenly touch.
I dive into 27C water to cool off. Offshore a yacht ha lies lazily at anchor, A very huge Slavian women stands a few metres from me and removes her bikini. No shame. Huge pendulous breasts, swinging freely, gross pubic hair. She smiles as she pulls on a faded blue, striped dress.
I look down the beach and see a well tanned elderly gentleman gingerly making his way, step by painfully step, into the Lido bar for a cocktail to get him through the next few hours. He has obviously had a right side, left brain stroke and I want to go and help him in his painfully slow walk. He makes it and despite a severe right side deficit manages to get back to his wife on her lounger.
We wander back to our apartment and discover the old part of Cefalu. A distant tower from our balcony, a light at night, a bell that sounds every quarter hour. The big chime is the hour , the little , the quarter. The streets are like Naples, narrow, steep, quirky shops, many tourists, getting the real experience.
The days are cooling. Low 20s today with a promise of afternoon rain and thunder. Still, humidity is high and anything more than a little effort results in drenching sweat.