I crossed the road last night

Have you ever wondered about or thought that for much of the time there is just a thin skin or moment in time covering reality or between you and another reality?

So on Sunday after leaving Rome airport and Yvonne, I was soon on the train back into town and my own new reality. What are all these people doing here in Rome as they look at history whilst eating their gelato? Are we just here looking for a tick in the box of human history? Are we here for a good time in a different culture or just locals out on a holiday weekend enjoying the city? Or others hard at work extracting a few euros from suspecting and/or unsuspecting tourists?

“Our” side of Trastevere was pretty well asleep when I passed by late in the afternoon especially near to where we had enjoyed several very good meals over the last few days. But somehow on my own, the place seemed to take on quite a different perspective.

So when heading off for dinner I crossed the road heading back towards one of the main piazzas of Trastevere where we had enjoyed a few drinks and a bite to eat a day or so ago. Nothing cute and cuddly was going to cut it for now a single old guy. So the interest moved to look for a meal at one of the places on the piazza where I would not stand out like a sore thumb.

The whole area was busy with constant entertainment arriving, setting up, working, looking for payment, pull down and heading off elsewhere over the almost two hours I was there. Some I recognised from the previous days playing at spots around the area. Lots of families out and about but lots of tourists too. I was quite hungry having missed lunch and had walked for several hours 'on the other side of the river' during the afternoon.

The ever friendly mostly Italian waiters encouraged me out of about an extra 20 euros during my time there by way of an extra side dish and the extra drink or two. We know that places on such piazzas are almost always just that bit more expensive than the spot tucked down the side street in the shady hideaway. But I was happy enough with the outcome if only for the entertainment I had had along the way..

And yes, I am not yet even closely in tune with the Italian ways to extract those few extra euros off you by selling something not quite as expected along the way. Wherever the truth lies. The mineral water that was probably home made with a soda stream. The orange juice that came from the bottle located near to the basket of lovely looking oranges and associated juicer. The friendly service that lasts just long enough until you have paid up and heading off. The trousering of the city bed taxes that comes with the room bills.

There has been a constant queue every evening for the recommended pizza/pasta place near our room. On Sunday evening after 9.30 pm there must have been over 25 people still waiting to get into the place. And over the road, most places were full and more so. The alleyways were over flowing. But I had no trouble getting a nice table almost on the square whilst a younger slightly worn looking fellow tourist who turned up just after me was asked if she had a reservation? No? Then sorry, we only have places inside for you!

And then on Monday morning at the main train station, there was humanity again, heading off to who knows where. Now I too head off heading for Liguria and the rural/rustic life after the big smoke.

Late breaking news find me together with my friends at Villa Arabella and ready for dinner and then the first walk day. It is wet here and looks like will be walking in mud tomorrow. Such is life.