The warm sunlight passing through the shutters’ splits wakes us up and we roll over between the white sheets. Did it truly happen? We rub our eyes and we look at each other smiling. Yes, everything seems to be real. Yet it feels like waking up now from a long dream. The ancient little church, our relatives’ laughs, the pictures together, the reception in the park, our first ball… everything is enveloped by the insisting sounds of birds and cicadas and a golden light, contributing to give a movie-like static atmosphere. It looks like one of those dreams that invite you to close your eyes again to try to continue them, being them so enchanting and perfect. But the light play with our closed eyelids and wins over our laziness.
We look out the bow window of Thomas suite, in the main villa, where the light blue walls and the elegant white furniture help to give the idea of soft heavenly dream. Alassio Gulf opens immense and calm in front of us, to say good morning to us serenely. The golden light is the same as the one in the dream, the animals’ sounds are those ones too. So maybe everything is true, we think, holding our hands and hearing our wedding rings clinking as a proof.
The scent of the flowers in the park of Villa della Pergola seems to invite us to come down and smell and admire them closely. Thus we have breakfast in our room, seating at the bow window’s table, with the incredible view of the Gulf behind us. We don’t talk, because yesterday’s images emerge one after another in our minds, and induce us to keep on smiling at each other in silence as we witness them. We dress up calmly and the June’s sun, already hot, almost insists on our skin, scolding us for not coming out before to enjoy such a day. But we move on the lawn slowly, without a precise destination. We turn to look at the arcade with its white curtain, that is so calm now but that protected the tables of our delicious lunch with its shadow yesterday, animated by our celebrating guests.
The park opens alive and luxuriant to us and greets us with its smells and sounds. We immediately understood why the English families who chose that place in the end of 1800 for their vacation fell so much in love with it. It felt like being thrown in a parallel reality, polished and slow, made of receptions, five-o’-clock teas, lonely hours of writing in the lounges overlooking the blue sea, walks at palm’s shadow.
We feel like two aristocrats of the end of XIX century while the wisterias form elegant vaults above us and accompany us to the Laghetto Ninfee. While we are charmed by the gracious games of the dragonflies on the water’s reflections, we almost expect to see a fin de siècle painter seated on his stool on the other bank, painting an impressionist picture.
We arrive at the Villino and think that there will be time to call our parents and witnesses later, who sleep in the customized suites. By now, we only want to enjoy our first moments of husband and wife together, and we keep on walking between the citrus groves until the Casa del Sole, secluded and illuminated place of idleness. We peep through the dining room’s windows, and we are surprised by the fact that the Dalrymples or the Hanburys did not invite us to sip an afternoon tea with them.
The fountains and Lady Bank’s Roses are the setting of our conversations about the afternoon that is waiting for us. We can’t wait to try the chocolate Baci, typical of Alassio, our parents talked of so much when we were kids, and to leave a romantic dedication in the famous Muretto’s mailbox of love letter, as an unforgettable memory of how that city is the real Lovers’ City for us. Without being able to stop smiling, we wonder if we really want to find out whether this is a dream or the marvelous reality opening up to our eyes, in the promise we made to each other that it will never end.