It was my younger sister’s 76th birthday a couple of days ago.  We – my sister, her husband, their junior daughter (who flew in from California), my partner and I – arranged to meet for a celebratory luncheon today at Pelican Seafood Market & Grill on Bank Street in Ottawa South. The restaurant is a favourite of my sister who regularly frequents the place – both for dining in and when ordering bespoke take-out platters. Replete with chowder, ceviche, oysters, tuna tartare, PEI mussels, Arctic Char fillet, tiramisu and crème brûlée it wasn’t until a respectable 3-hours later that we concluded our confab and said a cheery au revoir.

With the exception of my niece, we are all suffering the natural and irrefutable decomposition of age. Nonetheless the hindrance did not to disrupt or disturb our exuberance at table. It was an unspoken but evident character of the social occasion that family is first and foremost important. Because my sister and her husband are in constant contact with my partner and me, it was only the most recent gossip that required sharing among us – in particular the serendipitous link between a Toronto legal author (who is a longtime friend of mine) and an Ottawa lawyer who is the son of good friends of my sister and her husband. Coincidentally the lawyer/son is about 4-months younger than my niece who is an international comedienne.

My niece especially captured my interest when she reported that she will be performing on an Oceania cruise in the Mediterranean. This immediately reminded me of our venture to Villa Luna on Sardegna over a decade ago.

Sardinia is a large Italian island in the Mediterranean Sea to the west of Italy; population 1,671,001 (2008); capital, Cagliari. In 1720 it was joined with Savoy and Piedmont to form the kingdom of Sardinia; the kingdom formed the nucleus of the Risorgimento, becoming part of a unified Italy under Victor Emmanuel II of Sardinia in 1861. Italian name Sardegna.

Sardegna was until only recently a resort of relatively infrequent travel. As I explained to my niece, Sardegna is still magically primitive in many ways.  It was over 60 years ago when my sister and I were traveling with my parents in Florence, Italy that we first flew over Cagliari. By entire chance my father had then encountered a former colleague who, when he invited us to join him for luncheon, disclosed he had a plane. The views of Sardegna from the air were spectacular – turquoise sea and glimmering white fortifications.  When I and my partner returned many years later with my erstwhile physician and his companion we discovered a wealth of local traditions, including not only magnificent mountain terrain and beaches but naturally inexpressible local cheeses and hams. And I shall never forget the shrubs of aromatic rosemary growing just outside the kitchen door of our mountain-top villa.

The time at table today passed agreeably. It is a test of occupation when dining out to overlook anything beyond the immediate scope of one’s companions. In short our focus today was entirely inward (apart from the amusement my sister forgivably derived from watching a young chap at a nearby table meticulously consume his lobster from the shell).