It was what one could only call a romantic moment in Rome.  And I guess it raises the question whether you have to know the person(s) you share that moment with.  I didn’t.  Know them.  But,  it was a shared moment that turned strangers into intimates.

I had just arrived that morning.  An overnight flight with very little sleep.  I exercised my “get-rid-of-jetlag technique”: stay outside, never stop moving and stay awake until “their” bedtime.

I mixed that with my favorite foods: lots of caffé, un gelato (tre gusti — 3 flavors: panna cotta [obvious taste],  Baci [like the Italian chocolate candy] and a wonderful flavor called Nonna’s choice [unique combo of rich vanilla, orange & pine nuts]).  A small rectangle of pizza with zucchini flowers and cherry tomatoes (circles are left for personal pies — otherwise pizza here comes in slabs and you gesture when the pizza man gets the right measure of pezzo di pizza).

On about the 7th hour of constant walking,  I decided to head to the Piazza Farnese — a charming piazza — and order a glass of vino bianco.   In Italy,  cocktail hour comes with at least 2 plates of snacks: chips, nuts, olives, bruschetta — house choice.

Suddenly, the sound of the water from the fountains in the Piazza Farnese was amplified,  four-fold.

It was pouring down rain!  A storm as sudden as the velocamente patter of the children in the square.

And here I sat — in the perfect place under the cafe umbrella.  Just a misty hint of the storm on my face when the wind shifted.   It was magical. And, yes, just a little romantic.

Benvenuta a Roma.  Welcome to Rome!

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