Cinquante Cinq has been a mysterious and seductive destination I always thought would be out of my reach. Today, Maria (Tony’s roommate, who’s quite possibly the nicest and most loving person I’ve ever met) and her latest South African guest, Berryl, convinced me that today was the day to go.
I panicked. In my head I saw all the rave reviews of how chic and trendy the place is; I heard the voices of L’Esquinade guests who explained that they were there to build a base tan before heading to 55. Suddenly I wondered if I was tan enough.
Then the floodgates opened. I’ve been staying at Tony’s for almost a week. I forgot my tweezers at home – What do my eyebrows look like? We’ve been eating and drinking like kings – Am I too chubby to lie out on that beach? The only book I brought is about social entrepreneurship – Can I really be seen with that? I don’t even have a pereo; I’d have to wear my button-down Target special – Won’t it be immediately obvious I don’t belong?
I swallowed my fears and geared up. We piled in the car. The 15-minute drive felt like forever. Then, we were there.
The parking lot is incredible. Lined with Ferraris and Lamborghinis that put the remainder of the cars – all BMWs and Mercedes – to shame, we were immediately out of place in Maria’s modest rental car. We pulled in apparently a little too far; the guard came over and said: “Don’t you know the entrance is back there?” Eek – caught already.
When we finally made it, my breath was immediately taken away. The restaurant is delightful. Some of the shady couch-lined tables look like they belong in a palace instead of on a beach. And the beach itself is spattered with bamboo covered shelters, white mats and matching umbrellas. We took our spot up front.
17€ for a mat. We passed on the umbrella.
9€ for a coke. We split it.
And guess what – it’s the same water as the crique and L’Esquinade. And the only “famous” person we saw was Joan XXX… and I’m way too young to know who that is.
At one point, an older English couple came to sit between us and a Dutch family. The Dutch family included three boys who were remarkably well behaved for their age – they stuck to surfing on the coast in front of their parents and reading cartoons on the mats. And for those of you who have met Tequila, you know she does nothing but sleep, which was exactly what she was doing when the English couple arrived.
The man immediately sat down and disrobed, ready for a day in the sun. His wife demanded an umbrella and started making a fuss about the sand getting in to her diamond bracelet. She suddenly became aware of the family to her left. “Oh my God, there are kids. Ick.” Her voice was so shrill, Tequila lifted her head to look. “Oh my God, and a dog. Is there a dog next to us? Oh this is just going to be impossible.” And she stormed off. Her husband hadn’t moved or responded.
Less than a minute later, she returned with the beach boy, who promptly moved them a good distance away… in front of a couple who had rented a third mat just for their two chiuahuahs.
Please.
But recounting the day’s adventures over rosé with friends, I’m glad I went. At least it was an experience.
No comments:
Post a Comment