A few years ago, some friends bought a cottage and gave it a thoughtful makeover. They’d invited us several times before, but something always came up. Finally, at the end of this summer, we managed to spend a long weekend with them.
Stepping into their home in the holiday area, I immediately sensed it was more than just a nicely renovated place. The walls, the details, and the preserved Metlaki tiles on the terrace all told a story: our friends grew up in the same era as we did, and they intentionally kept the spirit of those old summer days alive.
The house itself was a unique meeting point of past and present. Alongside modern comforts, mismatched furniture and cozy, winding rooms offered plenty of hidden beds—perfect for fitting everyone in.
For a moment, I was reminded of teenage summers when it didn’t matter where you slept. A sleeping bag on the living room rug was just fine because what counted was being together and collecting as many memories as possible—saving money was part of the fun.
Approaching forty, my needs have naturally changed, and my back certainly wouldn’t thank me for sleeping on the floor anymore. A comfy bed and personal space matter, but for that short time, it felt wonderful to catch that carefree feeling we once took for granted.
And then came the bath!
The nearby bath was the cherry on top: here, I saw myself not as a teenager, but almost like a child again. Our friends told us they’d partially renovated the place, but it’s far from a modern wellness center. Instead, we found a small beach with four pools. When we visited, it was mostly older couples and retirees enjoying the healing waters, not noisy kids. The old-fashioned decor, a sandy area for the little ones, and vintage games like giant chess and bowling added a special charm rarely seen today.
Next to the snack bar, wooden changing cabins stood in a row, with thick wooden doors, concrete floors, and inside just a hook and a bench made from a plank. Winding concrete slab paths led through the shade of tall pines across the beach. Every detail carried that familiar, slightly worn but heartfelt vibe that made me feel like a kid again—and even though September was just around the corner, this summer felt endless.
Evenings by the campfire with old tunes
After the beach, we always ended up in the same place: gathered for the evenings together.
After showering, we lit a campfire, grilled snacks, pulled out card decks, and played 2000s music softly in the background. Colorful LED lights lit up the garden seating area, crickets chirped loudly, and near midnight, the spiky resident of the leaf pile would clumsily appear.
The best part? No one thought about scrolling on their phone. There was no need for posts or pictures, as if we all knew this feeling can’t be captured by photos. Because, really, the magic of summers past isn’t about the past at all—it’s about reconnecting with ourselves from time to time. Remember: sometimes, happiness is just an offline weekend filled with retro vibes.
