Day No. 5 - Punta Skala

We enjoy the day at the sea. Our SUP is unpacked and launched. The sea is so calm that our board, which is actually not intended for the sea, nevertheless proves itself. - But in the afternoon something special is planned. We want to explore by bike to Punta Skala, the adjacent peninsula. 

In 1974, when I was here for the last time, there was a bungalow settlement on the peninsula, including a hotel complex of the travel company Oböna, which specialized in nudism. At that time, the world must have been a different place, because at the opening in 1972, both Der Spiegel and Die Zeit reported on this seaside resort and the nudists. So my parents were revolters in one way or another. 

It's like it always is, childhood memories are just more colorful. - There's no need for Polaroid film. 

Somehow I had to think of Nina Hagen, "You forgot the color film, by my soul' - everything blue and white and green and later no longer true" - That's exactly how Punta Skala seemed from today's perspective. At that time everything was somehow more colorful, bigger, more beautiful. - Instead of the bungalows and the old hotel building, a modern Falkensteiner Hotel & Spa has been built today. - But little has remained of the charm of the past. This is not a valuation of today's hotel. The coast is still as beautiful as it was back then. - But my parents, but also especially we children, my brother, my sister and I have very special memories of these vacations. 

 My father lost his wedding ring here in the sea. Only to find it again later during a later visit. My brother and I built seawater aquariums and filled them with whatever our cheese maker could find. - Squid, edible crabs, racing crabs, and more. There was even a scorpionfish in there once. - Overnight our stocks became less and less, although we closed every exit. - Malicious tongues claim that my father sold our booty to the hotel chef. 

 My sister did what sisters just do. - But little boys didn't understand that, why should men understand that?

 But I learned a lot in Punta Skala. Although I didn't even know how to swim, I was faster than any swimmer with ABC, meaning fins, snorkel, goggles. - Nevertheless, my father had to rescue me. Because after I collided with an inflatable boat, I was in danger of drowning. My father is said to have received a foot full of sea urchin stitches as a result of this rescue attempt. - That the same thing happened to me the day before was then almost solidarity. 

 Torgit and I walk along the beach and the rocky coast, following my old tracks. - I tell her a lot about my childhood feelings. Then I take a few photos and send them to my mother and siblings. - The photos bring back memories not only for me. - It is funny in this context that Lotte, Torgit's best and for me in the meantime a very, very good friend, asked us to take photos as soon as we were in Zadar. That evening I send her photos of Punta Skala, saying, not quite Zadar, but close. Immediately comes as an answer: That is Punta Skala. Apparently Lotte's parents were also revolutionaries. 

Insight of the day: childhood memories are more intense than any reality.

*If the man in the photo, bears some resemblance to me, it is not purely coincidental. This is my Mr. Papa in Punta Skala.