I know, I know…… its rude to listen in on other peoples conversations. And my mum will be appalled by this post. However, I believe that if your ears accidentally happen to be close to a particular exchange of words, then so be it. Who am I to stand in the way of one of the five senses I am privileged to have.
Picture this; 2 teenagers, probably 17 or 18, girls, on an summer vacation school excursion to Europe. Sitting in the middle of the Roman colosseum in Pula, surrounded by extraordinary Roman architecture and design.
In Kardashian nasal tones strangulating cut-off denim shorts, mid-riff tops and white sneakers (adolescence size 14 bodies straining the intrinsic fabric weave of their size 10 clothing).
Imagine that these comments are going back and forward between the two while they eat their icecream perched on the giant head of a caesar.
“I get when people have a passion, you know, its totally adorable”
“I think Ryan just needs to chill – take a break from his issues. Cos, like, he is just, like, to into himself and is just, like, too stressed”
“Total. Ryan needs to be a bigger person”
“I’m totally, like, totally getting so ………. like mad with him. Like, I don’t know…..”
“Yeah ….. total. But I also think it is so stupid that we have to swim, like, at the beaches. Like, they have stones”
“Tell me! I don’t want to see towns – I just want to stay on the boats. Towns are so, like, nothing”
“Venice is going to be so good. It’s totally neat. Like, really neat”
“But, like, is there anything to do there?”
A break in the conversation while they suck out the last of their icecream from the cones – much slurping and licking sounds with some sucking on fingers. Some discussion on what presents to buy for what family members (one of the girls is only taking back T-shirts and only in one size cos she didn’t ask her mum about them before she left).
“My brother went to college in Massachusetts. But, like, people generally in Massachusetts are really, really dumb. Like totally stupid. So, like, after 3 years of his degree, he came back, like, REALLY dumb”
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A man well into his fifties, on the heavier side of 15 stone. Long grey hair pulled back into a ponytail – pulled so tight his face had a startled look. His shirt is white with a fetching puce flower design – he is fresh and floral all at once. He is sitting with a very under-thirty divine creature who just so happens to be Swedish. His posh English tones are the only ones my hyper-sensitive ear satellites can pick up:
“The first film I am going to make is an animation of the real history of Britain – but only the first 2,000 years or so”.
“I’ll just keep going because I’m quite enjoying myself talking”
“Did you know that Swedish and English are virtually the same language. I’m from Surrey, which means I have no regional accent. That means I can really pick up on the similarities between language”.
He asks her to say any phrase she wants to and he will tell her what she is saying because Swedish and English are so similar. She says a phrase.
“Hmmmmmm, maybe that’s not a good example”
Things I learned sitting on the Split rivera:
rollerblades should be left in the 1990s
fathers expose themselves as radical fashion dags when exposed to an Adriatic sunset
it is possible to take too many photos of one sunset
the Harry-High-Pants look is alive and flourishing on the rivera
asking a child to walk backwards to get a better photo will result in them falling into the water
it is possible to pull a child from water before it realises it has been sent off the pier by its dad
a toddler can scream in their pram the entire 800 metre length of the rivera… and back …. and back again
tattoos of dogs doing a poo on a pimply back do not look better at sunset
the combo of sunset and rivera shrinks skirts and dresses
