Blog

What traces do we leave behind? What do they say about us? Do others even notice them? A footprint in the wet sand, a straw hat left on the sunbed while its owner goes for a swim, a small crossword book lying open with a pen tucked inside, peeking out of a well-stuffed beach bag. Traces of us, objects that belong to us, that travel with us through our holidays, that we leave behind forever or just for a few minutes. Today, I have chosen to dedicate this week’s story to them.

At first glance it looks new, freshly bought, but on closer inspection, this is not the straw hat’s first summer, delicately placed on the sunbed. A pretty flower has been picked and tucked into the left side, making it a one-of-a-kind piece that its owner surely wears with pride on sunny days. It might have been bought on holiday, during an unforgettable stay, or in the corner shop where its owner goes every day. It might have been given as a gift by someone dear, to celebrate a birthday, or simply for the pleasure of giving. This simple straw hat, set aside for a moment by its owner gone for a swim, reminds me of a moment of joy, of sunshine, of togetherness.

At Altamarea, togetherness is everywhere. It slips into the breeze and brushes over the holidaymakers lying in the sun. You can even spot it in that crossword book peeking discreetly out of a bag. I notice several different handwritings and picture a group of friends who finally managed to find a pen, and the game could begin. Who will find the most words? No, actually that is not the point. The real point is to talk, to laugh, to sit in a circle and come up with as many wrong answers as possible. In this book, I imagine that not a single page is fully completed, because every word starts a conversation, every word starts a laugh, and perhaps also because the grid long since lost all meaning under everyone’s inventions. The corner of the book is worn, it even looks a little damp. Clearly, it is full of memories that the group of friends may no longer even recall, but all these small moments have surely brought them a little closer together.

Afterwards, perhaps the group went for a swim. And there they crossed paths with that family coming out of the water with paddles, balls and rubber rings. They played together in the water for over an hour, making the most of their one holiday of the year. The family left footprints in the sand, big ones and small ones mingling together to create shapes that no longer look like feet, but speak of their family’s bond. Then the sea, with its gentle waves, came and washed those footprints away, leaving this family with a beautiful memory.

A footprint, a straw hat, a crossword book. They are neither pointless nor without meaning. They are traces of our time here, telling the story of our days by the sea.