As a child, the biggest event of the year was waking up incredibly early to reach the southern regions of Italy for almost a month long holiday.
I would spend hours on the backseat of the car, with a stereo, cassettes, a few books and a pillow.
Every time, I would turn my head left to see the first sun light of the day refracting on the waters of Lake Lesina. Further ahead, a small stripe of land and then, barely visible, the sea.
The glimpse of the sea marked the start of the holiday. The anticipation of that sight has been one of the most joyful feelings of my childhood.
Today, nothing much changed.
Going toward the sea, sneaking peeks at it from a distance. Wanting to reach it as quick as possible, though deciding to walk slowly, waiting for the panorama to open up.
Sea towns are fascinating. To me, they will always have similarities, even if they are situated in different countries. Somehow, they all feel like home, even if I never lived near the sea.
Dramatic tides have been a completely new feature for me. The seascape changes continually, revealing new perspectives on what we face everyday.
As much as a sunny day at the sea is good, I end up craving an overcast one. The gentle light and subdued colours seem to reveal details otherwise overlooked under the sun light.
All photos taken by me in Cromer during a quick break, August 2016.