Fregene and Ladispoli

fregene and ladispoli

For a so-called resort, FREGENE is one of the grimmest places imaginable. First main stop on the train out of Rome, its four kilometres of beaches - twenty years ago Lazio's trendiest - are blighted by the usual commercial tat and only slightly redeemed by huge stands of umbrella pines. Romans pile out here mainly for the fish restaurants and, in summer, to trawl the Roman clubs' seaside venues. The sand's marginally less crowded than at Ostia, but the gravy-coloured water fails every health and safety test going. Sunbathing slumbers are also disturbed by jets flying out of Fiumicino down the coast, and for decent, almost deserted beaches, you'd do better to stay on the train.

To Lawrence LADISPOLI was even worse, summed up in a thumbnail sketch: "Ladispoli is one of those ugly little places on the Roman coast," he wrote, "consisting of new concrete villas, new concrete hotels, kiosks and bathing establishments; bareness and non-existence for ten months in the year, seething solid with fleshy bathers in July and August & desecration put upon desolation." Nowadays, this is a little unfair: its apsect, to be sure, isn't the best; but its beaches are cleanest of those closest to Rome. There are plenty of places to swim about ten minutes' walk from the train station, although the best spot is further north, around half-an-hour away from the station at the Torre Flavia - a medieval construction restored in 1565 by an Orsini cardinal. The tower used to be about 200m from the shoreline; now it is 200m out to sea and collapsing elegantly into the water in four equal parts.