Leif enjoyed the beach nearly all his life. One of the trips we made to the beach when we lived in Germany was the one to Rimini, Italy. We drove over the Alps and the Dolomites in our secondhand Opel Diplomat (car), an act of faith, as it was old and not in the best condition. On top of that, we chose a very scenic and interesting route through the mountains in Italy that turned out to have roads on the edges of cliffs, hairpin turns, no guardrails and steep dropoffs tumbling hundreds, perhaps thousands of feet at the edge of the pavement. We couldn't see around curves, and in some places there wasn't even room to pass. Leif and Peter A. weren't much fazed but it but I was terrified. Peter W. was driving and I was a nervous wreck. It would have been quite beautiful on foot, but I don't think we even got any photos.
We were (at least Peter W. and I were) vastly relieved to come down out of the mountains safely and make it to Rimini. Our hotel was right on the beach, but the beach was strewn with seaweed.
The boys had a good time anyway, and they delighted in digging holes. This photo shows four-year-old Leif in the hole he dug.
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