27 Mar Mi Manca

It’s on quiet Sunday mornings like this that I most miss waking up in Rome, dressing in my airy ‘monolocale’ studio apartment on Via Di Sant’Anna, and enjoying a Cappuccino e Cornetto at Cafffe Camerino (yes, the three F’s are correctly placed here) just outside my front door at Largo Argentina.

I miss the experience of passing through the city on foot, turning past great monuments en route to simple shops for basic needs: crushing between street traffic and the magnificent stone walls of the Palazzo Doria Pamphilj (still a private home, in as much the sense that it was ever fully private), or using the Pantheon as a marker from which to make the next near-right turn towards Davide Cenci.

I miss the invigorating air (full of smoke and dust, but also full of life), overhearing the beautiful Italian language in peripheral conversations ranging from staccato to legato, the sound of street noises, and the opposition of stoic stone buildings to the scents of fresh baking that emanate from within.

Above all, I miss the fact that along every busy street, enchanting courtyards, chapels, and architectural wonders wait quietly for us to rediscover them on accident and to marvel for a moment, as we carry out our daily lives.