We have left Umbria on a little trip through Northern Italy. We are currently in Bologna, home to the very first university. It's a bona fide college town, and yes, it's painfully obvious that we're not 22 anymore.
We're here in Bologna for a few days, then East to Venice then West to Torino, stopping in Milan at some point as well and a trip to Berlin in early November. As I'm writing this, I'm trying to find us a hotel in Berlin (not as fun as it sounds!) and just came across this joint that lets you choose from sleeping in a coffin or a prison cell, among other unique works of art. I'm still searching.
It's definitely different, being sort of "on the road" again (no Kerouac or Willie Nelson references intended). Back in Umbria, the days, although beautiful, were getting kind of long. Sure, we picked grapes and took Italian lessons and I made enough soup to feed most starving nations. But there was also time enough on my hands to make this. And no, it's not in Italian.
Oh, and a crazy little small world thing happened! The night we arrived in Bologna, we stopped for a glass of wine and a little snack at this "Prosciuttoria", which Will totally loved since it's filled with prosciutto, just like him.
We got to chatting with our waiter, who, upon noticing our not-so-Italian accents (we were actually speaking in Italian), asked where we were from. We said New York and he told us that he had lived in the city for six months in 2004. And where did he work? At Supper, the restaurant and wine bar we frequent in the East Village. On East 2nd St. And I live on East 3rd. You do the math, we were like neighbors!
No comments:
Post a Comment