Bakary Tamba surveys his neat kingdom of sand, and smiles. The folded cream parasols on his patch of the Adriatic coastline stretch almost to the water’s edge, all perfectly aligned. The fine, blonde expanse is manicured and already warm to the touch. Offshore, a small yacht is coaxing a few knots from the morning breeze. All is as it should be — save for the absence of people. But they’ll come. They always do.

The private beach club where 41-year-old Bakary works is one of scores that share Rimini’s 10-mile-long lungomare (seafront). The aesthetic may not be to everyone’s liking; from a distance, the columns of kaleidoscopic parasols look like a kitsch military rally. But for the price of a rented sunlounger, beach-goers get cleanliness, showers and changing rooms, drinks and dishes delivered to their laps, and the reassurance of lifeguards like Bakary.