Amalfinicky sea swimmer

This morning's swim felt special. 
I am a big fan of the Vico swimming place. Trouble is, it has become dangerously popular on social media since the Matt-Damon-with-Supervalu-plastic-shopping-bag episode, or since the Conor McKnacker fans have realised that it is a good spot to catch a glimpse of their idol acting the irresponsible bollix on a jet ski... 
But today I got there reasonably early and there were only 3 other swimmers in the water (it still doesn't feel like November), all three rather unassuming, discreet and more importantly silent. 
Sheltered from the wind, it actually felt quite warm. After my swim, I didn't wrap myself in a big fluffy towel (my towel was still damp from yesterday's swim...) but just sat there, blinded by the reflection of the sun on the blue blue sea and indulged in a bit of cormorant drying. 
There was no noise, no bluetooth speakers blasting shite repetitive electronic dance music, no heads, no screams, no smell of vintage urine, no litter and thank be to god, no Conor McShagginGregor. 

With only a little bit of autosuggestion, it almost felt like being on the Amalfi Coast.