When I think of Italy, I think of:
- Warm ochre walls, real stone arches, narrow streets
- A bench by the side of the road – no view, no bus stop; why is it here? Then you discover that half the day it is the office for little old ladies.
- A bar at noon time – this is the office for little old men.
- The promenade at noon time as shopkeepers lock up and head home – or wherever they care to be for the next four hours
- A bar at 4 PM – the old men are back; or did they ever leave?
- A table where everything is delicious
- A constant flow of beverages
- A man in a dapper suit; it is never too hot to look good. Nobody goes out looking like a slob. With the beauty of art, antiquity, and nature all around you, you want to be part of the picture.
- A gelato on a hot summer night watching the evening promenade. Join in!
Go to Italy and join in! Not necessarily in July. But really, it didn’t matter to me that it was too hot. I feel Italy in my blood and bones and my suntan. I see my Gramma everywhere. I always hope I take a little bit of it home with me each time.