It starts in town, not on the dune. The Forno del Circeo is on the main street, and it is the first of the two local presences on this thread: the merchant sets the rule, and on a spend of at least twelve euros two come back. You take the bread, you step out into the street, and the route is already moving. This is not an editorial desk stop. This is built Sabaudia, before the sea, with the Circeo still visible from here at the end of the main street’s perspective.

From the main street you head out towards the sea, and the dune comes after the built-up area, high over the coastal strip. The bread stays in the bag and you walk on the sand, with the promontory in front. It is the passage from town to park: the houses stay behind, the wind changes, and the lake is already on the other side of the sand bar. The stop is short on purpose. It serves to put your feet outside the Sabaudia of streets and inside the Sabaudia of sand.

The second stop is at the table, at the Osteria del Lago, on the lakefront. This too is local presence, not the editorial desk: another rule, set by the merchant, for those who sit down after the bakery and the dune. You arrive by car, you eat with the lake at your side, and the bread from the main street becomes the first half of a lunch that looks at the water. The route holds together two counters of the same municipality, with the sand and the reed bed in between.

It ends on foot at the shore, just past the osteria. The water is still, the reed bed picks up again, and the Circeo is mirrored with no tablecloth in front of it any more. This is the close of the thread: from the bakery in town you have passed by way of the dune and of the table, and you stay here, on the water. There is no other destination. The shore is enough, because from this point Sabaudia can be read whole, the town behind and the lake in front, in the same afternoon.