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It was the day of Trieste’s famous Barcolana sailing regatta, and I had discovered the perfect vantage point. Setting out midmorning, I took the direct #42 bus (as opposed to the long scenic #42 I had taken the previous day) to Villa Opicina and followed the footpath known as Via Napoleonica, from the Opicina obelisk to the town of Prosecco. All along the way, from the cliffs overlooking the Gulf of Trieste, I could see specks of white dotting the sea like tiny brushstrokes on a vast blue canvas.

Founded in 1969, the Barcolana always takes place on the second Sunday in October and begins in the waters between Trieste and Castello di Miramare. Over 2,000 yachts take part in the race, which may be viewed by several hundred thousand spectators. It is the biggest event of its kind in the Mediterranean and one of the busiest in the world.

Sailing near Trieste can be especially challenging this time of year, as the strong bora winds can sometimes reach gusts of 100 mph. Fortunately for the sailors, the weather on this particular day was quite lovely—blue sky, lots of sunshine, and not too breezy.

There were hundreds of people strolling Via Napoleonica that morning, all with their eyes trained on the sea. I took my time, eventually ending up in Prosecco, where I wandered the back streets and country roads for another hour, nibbling on my picnic lunch of bread, cheese, and an apple. I was still hoping to stumble upon an osmizza (see my post about the previous day, Trieste: Villa Opicina) but realized with clarity that I would need to ask someone for help.

I took the #42 bus back to Villa Opicina and headed straight to Antica Trattoria Valeria, the restaurant where I had eaten lunch the day before. The young woman working there didn’t seem to know anything about osmizze, so she asked an older gentleman who was standing at the bar drinking an espresso. With a sage nod of his head, he opened his newspaper and pointed to the listing of these rustic pop-up taverns. That day there were three, all near the village of Santa Croce. Unfortunately, bus service did not run there on Sundays. The man also explained that it was still a little early in the season for osmizze and that there would be many more open by the end of October. At least now I knew to look for a listing in the newspaper.

Feeling pretty exhausted from my long walk, I took the bus straight back to Trieste, where I had an early dinner of leftover vegetables and sardines from a can. My apartment was starting to feel like home, despite the awkwardness of the tiny kitchen. My biggest complaint at the moment was the cigarette smoke wafting into my bathroom from the adjacent apartment. This, I found, only happened at certain times of day, so I was easily able to adjust my schedule in order to avoid it. Now, if only I could do something about the size of the microwave!