Saturday in the City

January 19, 2008

I can feel the warm sun on my face, my left eyebrow actually. The sun so bright that it makes me wince. The cold Duomo’s circular stair case juts into my back and the cool marble slab under me, reminds us that the sun has not been long in the sky. It is morning and my city awakes. Is it my city? No, but my admiration for it, makes me feel like it is. The castle, in the distance, sits stoically, with the morning fog. Is there anything more beautiful than the morning? It’s as if the sounds of honking cars is different in the morning, vibrating on a completely different frequency. People have an energy and hopefulness in the morning, that had somehow expired the night before and is now suddenly renewed.

Instantly glad that I am sitting here and didn’t succumb to the temptation to stay in bed. My nose running, my head fuzzy. The church bells coming from the distance, chime haphazardly, as the tram’s brakes echo, reminding me more tourist will soon tread by our corner of the roof and soon the magic will disappear with the climbing sun. The sounds will soon lose their mysticism as the fog dissipates and burns into the sunny day.



I left Amy at Zara. She had just bought a fabulous pewter colored wool coat, and I was heading back to the tram to find Clara’s apartment. Clara, my mentor, a 26 year old French teacher at ASM had invited me over for a lunch of omelets and salads. My navigation skills in the city are a little short of atrocious, so as I left Amy, I asked her to wish me luck, knowing I absolutely could handle this, yet still felt the need to chuckle a little that I indeed was a little worried.

It was just one of those beautiful days. It had been raining non stop here, for the last week and suddenly in the last two days, the temperature was going to be into the 50s. The kind of day, where you can see people’s gait is a little bit lighter. I let my ipod sing songs in my head as I walked down via Crivelli, holding Clara’s email in my hand.

“Ah, number 6! Perfect!”
“Ciao Bella!” I said as I heard Clara’s inaudible voice come from the receiver and then a buzz followed. I walked through the giant wooden doors and instantly heard Clara’s voice in the distance telling me to walk straight. I walked into the courtyard and saw Clara, standing on her wrought iron balcony waving. I looked at the balconies all facing each other thinking, “This might be a perfect day!” I headed into her apartment and we talked and made Spanish omelets with egg whites that Clara whisked enthusiastically for a half an hour as we talked about our life stories. Her constantly filling my mug with green tea and pumping me full of a salad with a plethora of sources of vitamin C.