Six years ago, I lived and worked in Brussels for six months, right in the heart of the political arena of Europe. I was part of a very special team as each country in the European Union had sent over one person. On January 6th, the team started working. Well, the whole team except the delegates from the Netherlands (yup, that was me) and Denmark that was, because over here, they had somehow missed the deadline. So much for the prejudices about the Southern European countries who have the reputation to be less organised.
On a cold Monday morning in February, I made my entrance. I received a very warm welcome, literally and figuratively
The team – made up of all young and enthusiastic boys and girls between the ages of 19 and 35 who had travelled to Brussels for a new adventure – had been up and running for more than four weeks already when I made my entrance on a cold Monday morning in February. I received a very warm welcome, literally and figuratively. Because – as I discovered – the great advantage of working together with twenty-five colleagues in one room, a large part of them coming from countries where it is considerably warmer than in Belgium, is that the heating was set to twenty-three degrees as the minimum temperature. Basically heaven for a person who’s always cold like me. Soon I noticed that – as it is usually the case with large groups – two sub-groups had formed already in that first period before my arrival. I don’t know whether it was a coincidence, but I immediately noticed that the southern souls seemed to get along pretty well: two girls from Spain and Portugal, a Sicilian, a Croat, a Cypriot, a Slovenian, a Romanian, and so there were a couple more. I’m sure you won’t be surprised that this was the part of the team with which I got along particularly well, and with which I blended in effortlessly. Without a doubt, the highlight of the day was lunch. We received plenty of vouchers from our employer to spend in the surrounding restaurants, a common thing in gastronomic Belgium, and took full advantage of it. Pasta Carbonara at the Italian place and hot chocolate souffles with silky-smooth insides melting on your tongue for dessert. After all, Brussels is not only the capital of Europe, but also the capital of chocolate. Lunch breaks of almost two hours were perfectly normal and before we got back behind our computer, we took an espresso all together to discuss what was discussed over lunch of course. For me, all this was an utterly joyful situation that seemed to have no end.
When we were all back at the office on Tuesday, it came to one o’clock when I started to call everyone for lunch while enthusiastically waving with my restaurant vouchers. However, I didn’t quite get the response that I expected
Easter came late that year, only in the second half of April, and almost everyone flew (or in my case: took the train) back to his or her home country to spend these holidays with the family. When we were all back at the office on Tuesday, it came to one o’clock when I started to call everyone for lunch while enthusiastically waving with my restaurant vouchers. However, I didn’t quite get the response that I expected, as a number of colleagues looked at me pretty startled. The next minute, little lunch boxes filled with tomatoes, cucumbers and carrots were pulled out and very quickly I learned that from now on, several colleagues didn’t join us to the restaurant any longer but instead had lunch in the usually empty canteen at the office. That day for the very first time, I heard about this widespread phenomenon in Southern Europe for which Easter – with all its lavish meals – is more or less the starting point: Operazione Bikini had begun…
Shortly after, the Sicilian guy and I became a couple and that implied that I had the wonderful prospect of spending August under the Sicilian sun
This phenomenon also exists in Italy, so I learned. Shortly after, the Sicilian guy and I became a couple and that implied that I had the wonderful prospect of spending August under the Sicilian sun. Summer in Sicily means that your default outfit is a bikini – which in itself is my favourite outfit anyway proven by the fact I own 24 of them – but I have to admit, that very first time putting it on again, you need a second to adjust. On a warm summer day in June, the Sicilian and I made a trip to the Belgian beach of Oostende as a little warm up for the Sicilian beaches. It actually turned out to be the very first time in his life that he took a dive into the grey and freezing cold waves of the North Sea and that is quite a victory in itself for a Southern European. Our day at the seaside coincided more or less with the moment the Sicilian enthusiastically introduced the plan to go running together, the first and only summer in my life that I have been doing sports so fanatically. Every other day we would put on our running shoes to head off to the park where we would run laps that seemed to go on endlessly to me. The very first time must have been quite amusing for the other people in the park, as I was gasping for my breath only ten minutes after I started and I literally felt like they had to give me extra oxygen immediately. However, this didn’t discourage me and I kept going. It has been a real revelation to me how quickly you build up your condition with a little perseverance and willpower. Within a month, I managed to run ten kilometres in less than an hour (or 10K as all those trendy sports apps would say these days) and I was fitter than ever. Operazione Bikini was accomplished, and we were ready to hit the Sicilian beaches.
I seem to be the living proof of it all myself: after two months in Naples, where I did not even once cook a meal but instead ate pizza every single day (believe me, you would do the same when living in Naples), I returned to the Netherlands weighing two kilos less than when I left
It is one of the things that Italians are often admired for, but which remains one of the biggest mysteries to many at the same time: how come Italians stay so slim when pasta, pizza and gelati are on their menu every day? Of course, I’m not a nutritionist myself, but many researches have shown that the fresh and simple ingredients from the Italian cuisine make for one of the healthiest diets of all. It’s for a good reason that the Mediterranean diet is famous all over the world. I seem to be the living proof of it all myself: after two months in Naples, where I did not even once cook a meal but instead ate pizza every single day (believe me, you would do the same when living in Naples), I returned to the Netherlands weighing two kilos less than when I left. But does it really exist? Only eating pizza and still losing weight? Well, in my case it’s only half of the truth. It’s only fair to also mention that I walked up and down the Neapolitan hills for more than an hour and a half every day and that I went swimming in the sea several times a week. Plus, the fact that it was close to forty degrees and super humid, and that I didn’t have a fan – let alone air conditioning – probably helped a little, too.
By now I know that the Operazione Bikini, often undertaken with iron discipline, is the true secret behind many of those beautiful bodies on the Italian beaches
So, despite the healthy and pure ingredients used for their pizza, by now I know that the Operazione Bikini, often undertaken with iron discipline, is the true secret behind many of those beautiful bodies on the Italian beaches. An important – and probably the most enjoyable – element of the Operazione Bikini is the passeggiata, the Italian tradition of going for a walk after dinner. The art of casually – and at the same time elegantly – strolling around town, while secretly burning half of your dinner already. It doesn’t take a scientist to understand that an hour of intensive walking is healthier than moving yourself straight from the dining table to the couch. However, with the current lock-down in Italy, Italians can no longer undertake their beloved passeggiata. This lack of exercise and all the diligent amateur chefs who passionately took up a new cooking and baking hobby this quarantine time, are of course a deadly combination for that bikini body in the making. A fact that doesn’t go unnoticed in Italy, as I’ve seen plenty of witty jokes about it already on social media.
I went to a graduation party last night. Don’t worry, it was an online party, of course
But perhaps, it isn’t so bad that the Operazione Bikini is not so strictly followed this year. After all, as long as Italy remains in lock-down, nobody could possibly go to the beach anyway, so nobody will get to see you, right? Well, that isn’t quite true as I went to a graduation party last night. Don’t worry, it was an online party, of course. But to my pleasant surprise, it came pretty close to a physical party. With dozens of people from three different continents of whom I didn’t know the majority, we were together in a video-call, a DJ was dropping beats, a guitarist was playing songs on request and a toast was being made every five minutes. The graduate herself is a passionate and convincing lady so when she commanded us to dance to the rousing reggaeton songs, that’s exactly what we all did. Perhaps the best thing about this video calling system was that the organiser of the party could decide to literally put someone in the spotlight. In other words: you swinging your hips in your short pyjama pants for a full thirty seconds being displayed on full screen. It’s thanks to all these video calls (whether it’s a boring corporate meeting or a loud graduation party doesn’t matter), all those Instagram photos – and stories, and all those Tiktok dances that we can still see each other during the lock-down. In fact, we’re probably putting ourselves out there on the internet more than ever in this quarantine period. So that Operazione Bikini? I’ll still not completely abandon it, not in the last place because I refuse to give up my stubborn faith that in three months’ time, we’ll all be together on a beach again. In Sicily, preferably.