As soon as we pronounce our vows, misty-eyed, there is a moment of silence. Immediately the sound of the sea comes back to be the protagonist of the scene and I gaze at the horizon for a second, as if enraptured by its beauty and vastness that opens behind our back. Right away I turn to stare at your eyes again, so familiar to me but that I never saw this beautiful and bright, and I finally smile. I hear our relatives’ congratulations, their applauses and laughs of joy, but I barely realize that we achieved our dream and I only see your lips opening in the smile that means “home” to me.
When we arrived up at the Torretta Saracena for the first time, with the waves insistently lapping underneath us and the marine breeze messing up our hair, we opened our mouths, impressed by the marveous panorama of the coast in front of us. “Can you imagine us here, that day?”, you asked me, with your voice almost shaking only thinking about it. And I started daydreaming about our “Yes”, the flowers in your loose hair and your white dress, the smell of Zoagli sea, the ancient Torretta’s walls that framed our promises forever. Everything materialized exactly that way, as if I had shaped it in my dreams.
I hold your hand tight, to communicate to you silently that I am here, with you, and we descend, with our guests to Canevaro Castle towards the Giardino Baia di Zoagli, that we chose for the aperitif because of the view that extends East until Punta Manara. The sun goes down lying on the sea and the first lights of the garden turn on, like many fireflies in a summer evening. We toast our happiness, and we remain silent, moved by the incredible colors the sky is able to assume at sunset, amplified by the dancing reflection of the waves.
“Are you hungry?” you ask me, amused, noticing how my gaze often tends towards the castle. In fact, eating was hard during the day, with a knot in my stomach caused by the preparation’s emotion, and I am happy to finally enter the Guarnigione, the building’s ground floor. The marble and slate’s elegant checkboard pattern of the floor welcomes us and we sit at the tables finely prepared, underneath the ceiling’s white vaults. If we were quiet, I think to myself, we would keep on hearing the babble of the sea Canevaro Castle overhangs. You hand me a piece of focaccia al formaggio enthusiastically, one of the strong suits of Manuelina catering, that convinced us in our choice. I try it and the pleasant taste of the focaccia freshly baked confirms that we were not wrong. The dinner continues peacefully and we already feel the satisfying tiredness of an intense but perfect day.
We finally head to our Suite Portofino, and we leave the windows open in the dark and let the sea underneath us rock us, drifting off to a sweet and deep sleep. The morning after, we realize that the waves themselves say good morning to us, while the sun rises and enlightens the room delicately. We decide to have breakfast in our room, surrounded by the elegant nineteenth-century furniture, that you, expert of antiques, admire all charmed. What if everyday were like this? If everyday our only alarm were the sea? We hug happily looking at the bay, recalling yesterday, that already seems like a movie nestled in our memory. We booked a massage on the suite’s terrace and we plan to visit the Spiaggia del Duca later. But for now, the view east from the window, that arrives at the Cinque Terre, invites us to linger there a little more, in the warm morning sun, making it an unforgetable memory too.