Italy begins in Monte Carlo. A poster reading "Pasolini in chiaroscuro" advertised an exhibition held in Monaco's Nouveau Musée National in honor of the Italian intellectual Pier Paolo Pasolini (1922-1975), whose gaze behind dark glasses seemed to scan the Mediterranean. In 1959, he set off from Ventimiglia, 20 kilometers east of the principality, to tour his country by way of the beaches; a journey that ended in Trieste, on the Adriatic. His book The Long Road of Sand (2004) is composed of the stories he wrote at each stop.

The poster marked the start of our own investigation from the same place, and with the same premise: There is no better mirror than the sea to reflect Italy's splendors and hardships, its sorrows and mysteries. Every summer, more than two-thirds of Italians, along with their leaders and idols, flock to the mostly private beaches of Italy's shores.

Hedonistic Edens, where they resettle into the joys of dolce far niente – or otium, as their Roman ancestors called it – of liberated bodies and lightened spirits; and yet overshadowed by the Mafia, fascism, climate change and the migratory crisis. And business – the sea and sand – the raw materials of a flourishing and opaque economy that generates its own oligarchs.

An affront

Before heading off to Ventimiglia, we lingered awhile in Monaco and met one of them, 74-year-old Flavio Briatore, who went from being a ski instructor to an insurance salesman to a Formula 1 tycoon. Notorious for his run-ins with his ex-girlfriends and the tax authorities, he was obliged to flee to the Virgin Islands, but was amnestied, and then founded a seaside empire of restaurants, nightclubs and private beaches which he branded as Twiga and Billionaire.

"Italians don't choose this job to survive, but because they love it,"  the entrepreneur said. "They make their customers feel at home, like a family." And in Monaco, he's certainly at home: The Twiga restaurant overlooks the Twiga beach and the Twiga discotheque. "I must leave you now," he said apologetically. "I'm meeting the mayor of Ventimiglia. We need to hire around 40 people for the opening of our next seaside resort at the end of June."

The brand new Twiga in Ventimiglia is set in Grimaldi Bay, which is overlooked by the railroad line, the coastal road and the maritime alps. Wood fishing huts converted into vacation homes testify to the days when fishermen stored their boats here. "It's hard to imagine today, but plants used to grow in the sand," said Rudy Valfiorito, a winegrower and activist for several environmental associations. "This is one of the last natural beaches in a region already ravaged by mass tourism."

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