I remember when I went to Italy in July 1998; I was thirteen years of age. The opportunity to go to Italy was the highlight of the year as it not only meant seeing all my family again but also I could see my favourite attraction, the Abruzzi beach. I loved the beach, since I was small I always used roll around in the sand, climb the rocks, and splash the water on my parents. We always go for about a month, although a couple of times we stayed there for two and a half to three months. This time we went to my mothers side of the family, this is located in the middle of Italy on the Adriatic coast and is in the region of Abruzzi. We take it in turns each year to visit either my father's side, up north, Genoa or my mother's side.
It was the second week into our visit, my brother Davide and I, decided to purchase a raft. Come to think of it, my brother decided, I just went along with the idea. As he was three years older than me he made most of the decisions. It seated four persons and came with two oars free. Excited was the word, we stayed up to half two in the morning blowing the raft up and preparing what we were going to wear, even sun tan lotion was thought of, we meant business.
The sun was shining, a cool breeze was present. As soon as we saw the clear blue sea we ran towards it with joy. Before we jumped in my father told us to wait, we had forgot to tie the safety rope around the raft. It was great, brilliant fun. Baywatch was what we pretended to be on I think. Time went so fast. I looked up out of curiosity to find that somehow, my parents and family were over there and we were here. The tide had started to go out. I was panicking, as I did not know what to do. So many thoughts were going through my mind including flashbacks. I remember my brother, so calm, he was laughing. I shouted for help at the top of my voice, but my brother told me to shut up. I remember noticing what seemed to be little people running around on the beach, it was my father and uncle.