In Italy there are seasons — and then there is the season. Summer comes, the country’s woes are set aside, and, to the eternal refrain of “tutti al mare” (“Everyone to the sea”), the exodus to the consoling coast begins. The national debt fades between sea and stars.

This year is a little different. Masks dangle from ears in the new insouciant look or are tied around elbows then used for a bump-greeting. Beach chairs are (anti-) socially distanced. With stores operating two-at-a-time limits, the line for focaccia is so long that people read an entire newspaper (and Italians still read them) as they wait.