Di Notte en Roma
I haven't changed my watch, and for once, I don't care what time it is. I'm going to leave the hotel, walk into the first restaurant I see and toast to this moment of freedom from...well, I guess it would be from myself. I breeze down the lobby in the manner of Audrey Hepburn - if I had been wearing a scarf, it would have been blowing past me - and continue my stride through the revolving doors...which forces me to halt and slooowwly motion my way through the rest of the way. I catch a glimpse of the cute front desk guy and he's watching me - why does he have to look so bloody smug? Without any further regard to him, I take in my surroundings with an air of anticipation of where I would eat tonight. There's a sign that says Ristorante, but I can't make out the rest...it says...Ristorante...Cinese. Huh...well...you know, if I had walked through the revolving door and didn't turn to the right...I would end up in front of...Sitar. Perfect.Sitar is a quaint little east indian restaurant just across the street from my hotel on Via Cavour. You take a few steps downward towards the dining area, or you can sit upstairs on the two table patio. In the middle of the blank wall, there is a wooden sitar on display. The servers are all dressed in simple, but traditional clothing, and the owner is a very motherly little lady who kept encouraging me to eat more.
After paying the bill from a very ornate, mini silver chest, I walked up the stairs beside the restaurant, turned a corner and was greeted by the Colosseum. A lot of people seem to be content with recognising monuments for their grandeur through books and photographs, but the experience to touch, to feel and to smell, to imagine the centuries of history and culture and blood surrounding stacks of limestone and granite is incomparable. Seeing this, I realise that you should never fool yourself with just the idea. I walk round the whole of the Colosseo, and I catch a glimpse of an engravement and I lean in to make it out - Lynrd Skynrd. Maybe next time I won't be quite so...eager.
On the walk back to the hotel, I enjoy the cobblestone streets, while walking on flat pavement, and slurp the first gelato of my trip. It was a rich dark, chocolate that lovingly coats your tongue and smooths down your throat. These are the moments where you think, it's all vanity. I am eating this every single day. Twice. I've made a pack to boycott the elevator and only use the stairs in an attempt to balance my fitness level and my...eating level. By the 6th floor, I start to regret that second helping of butter chicken and the scoop of gelato. I walk back into my room, lacking a bit of the grace I possessed while leaving, and hear a faint accordion playing. All the windows that I've seen in Europe are the ones that allow you to lean out and shout a hello to passerbys. ( hey Arthur, do you remember when Stephen Kirkham threw water out of his window,in Nice, thinking that he would hit someone other than Mr.Jean Proulx?) I open the window, look down and see that across from Ristorante Cinese is a café and has currently employed an accordion player serenading couples dancing in the dark. I watch them for a little bit, feeling a little voyeuristic, while a stupid, silly grin spreads across my face. It truly is un bella notte.
posted by Joyce @ 8:50 PM
3 Comments:
Yay real Italian gelato!!! My car died, but it's ok, because I'm in Rome!
Can't say I remember that exact event. I have VERY vague recollections of water being thrown out a window, though it hitting JP escapes me. It's funny, there's this show on The Food Network where this lady goes to a different place every time and limits herself to 40 dollars for food for the whole day. She was in Rome tonight. I keep thinking though, for a student probably backpacking across Europe 40 bucks a day would be outrageous.
Guess you didn't see David Rocco huh? :P I don't even know if you got to go to Florence... Did you take a picture of the cute guy? (LOL remember the steward??)
Post a Comment
<< Home