‘And she’s got a great ASSSS! And you got your head, all the way up it!‘ Lt. Vincent Hanna, Heat.
This park bench became my momentary eyrie, a thankful respite from a 45 minute hike up the Morcote hills on the northern part of Lake Lugano. Walking in the wake of the missus, who traipsed on ahead despite wearing flats (which would ultimately be the undoing for her calfs for the rest of the holiday) I was weary my fitness levels have drastically atrophied in the last 6 months. However, at least being left for dead meant I had the perfect vantage point to watch Annie’s arse, churn its way through her tight denim trousers as she scaled the broken crooked trail. Like a greyhound in fruitless pursuit of a motorised bunny, each step was spurned on through pure sweaty lasciviousness. Which is perfectly alright in my book.
LUNCH. A reservation at Orto Bistrot. Facing the lake, Annie with her Heliotropic nature of course wanted to sit outside. Thankfully arms of foliage ornate with grapes were our umbrella and we replenished our depleted selfs with dulce banana smoothies and various Mediterranean dishes. The table of dandified gentlemen opposite chummily cracked open a blonde beer each and I rued my decision not to get one myself. Later at the Morcote jetty one of the group sparked up a long Castello and smoked with impunity, wisps of cigar smoke wandered around the nasal passages of children and no one, but no one, gave a single shit.