Cobblestones and Champagne

I woke up at 8am, and for the first time in my life I didn’t feel the need to go back to sleep, or to be somewhere, or to do something. Marvellous! I saw the breeze tango with the white curtains that adorn my towering windows, closed my eyes for just a second, and then opened them again to be sure I wasn’t dreaming. I performed a similar routine when I found a gorgeous leather jacket for only 50 Euros later in the morning, but we’ll get to that in a bit.

I and David toddled off to breakfast (which was delightful) where we experienced fresh ham and cheese croissants, cappuccinos, and the BEST yogurt I’ve ever tasted in my life. After a shower I decided to go wandering through the cobblestone lanes, the marble archways, and the plethora of verdant fountains and statues commemorating various historical dignitaries or other important symbols.

I stopped at the piazza for a moment where the Italians drink mineral water and have light lunches (for as long as they want, I might add) when the markets and shops close for their two hour lunch breaks. I found my way to a fresh fruit market where the tomatoes, strawberries, and cherries taste so succulent and sweet that it’s as though they’re entirely foreign fruits that I've never tasted before. I crammed as much as I could into a bag for $14 Euro and proceeded to munch on all of it as I walked.

I braided in and out of shops, conversed with the owners, and permanently smiled everywhere I found myself.  I set my eyes on the softest leather jacket I’ve ever seen and proceeded to purchase it IMMEDIATELY, so immediately in fact, that the ladies working laughed when they saw my eyes widen and my jaw drop at the sight of the jacket.

Soon I headed back for my first “lecture”. HA! We soaked up luscious rays of sunshine while lounging in the piazza, ate more fresh fruit, learned of all the places we would be visiting for the next month, and saw the rooms we would be staying at in Rome this weekend. In my three years of university I’ve never had a lecture that demanded so much of my attention, and whose demands I adhered to so well.

After “class” (I still laugh when I make the mental association with what that word means to me) we strolled to the grocery store (appropriately named “Eat’s”) where I almost had a heart attack upon realizing what was around me. Mountains of the freshest fruits and vegetables with colors so rich that they appear to be painted, meats cut directly from the animal in front of you (seriously- there were pigs, and legs of cattle RIGHT in front of me), a bakery full of every bread and sweet treat that you could imagine, at least 100 varieties of the freshest cheeses, and a wine SECTION (yes, section) with at least 400 varieties to choose from. They call it a convenience store, and again I laugh at my mental association with the word.

After shopping, I returned to the kitchen at the convent and made THE SINGLE BEST SANDWICH in existence. The mozzarella (taken straight from a bowl of cold water and milk by the server at the grocery store) was SO fresh that I couldn’t tell the difference between it and the strips of fresh roasted chicken that were also on the sandwich. I also placed sprigs of lettuce and red, bursting cherry tomatoes to top off the crusty outside, soft as a baby inside bread that I bought. The banana yogurt was so good that I would eat it for dessert at home if I could, and the potato chip people NEED to send Lay’s their recipes because WE do NOT know how to prepare potato chips, trust me. All of this with a glass of red wine whose particles sparkled as the rays of sunshine hit it from the window. I have never enjoyed a meal so fresh and delicious. I don’t think anything can be any more arousing to my sense of taste as yesterday was, but perhaps I’ll continue to be surprised.

After supper, I opened a bottle of champagne and climbed onto my window ledge to read some of my favourite “Eat, Pray, Love” passages as the sun set around me. Surely, I’m in heaven.

After more champagne, hair, and makeup we all headed to the bar closest to where we’re staying for drinks (compliments of some lovely Italian boys) and conversation encompassing the dynamics of Italian and Canadian cultures. We sat, drank, and conversed until the bartender closed shop after which time we all skipped playfully home. It’s worth mentioning that five inch heels and cobblestones are not really as dangerous of a combination as you might think.

 Soon, we fell into our beds and proceeded to shut our eyes on another day, but we’re never completely unconscious to where we are, what we’ve seen, smelled, and tasted, and what is yet to come.

Ciao for now!