Falling for Italy by De Ross Melinda

Author:De Ross, Melinda [De Ross, Melinda]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: DeRoss Ink
Published: 2015-09-04T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Giovanni kept his promise, and then some. Although he’d wanted to take Sonia to see as much of the city as possible in a single day, he knew that was a long-term mission. So he decided to take her first to see the historical center of the city.

Dressed in black thick jackets, jeans and comfortable boots, they left his BMW in a secure parking lot and walked from there, letting themselves blend in the motley cosmopolitan crowds. The day was beautiful, perfect for promenade and sightseeing. The sun shone over the rooftops of modern buildings and old villas with balconies where colorful clothes fluttered in the wind. They passed by monuments, statues, fountains and he told her what he knew about each one, trying to make the history lesson fun rather than boring.

Their first stop was Santa Maria Del Fiore, known by everyone as The Duomo. Although he knew the building very well, as always, he was enveloped by wonder and pride gazing up at the most imposing cathedral in the world, its colorful decorated walls glimmering under the Tuscan winter sun.

Sonia was enraptured by everything she saw, taking dozens of pictures, complaining now and again her neck was getting stiff from looking up. A permanent smile seemed imprinted on her beautiful face and her cheeks were rosy. They strolled through the Piazza Del Duomo, their fingers—gloved in black leather—inseparably tangled.

They bought some cannoli and sat on a bench where they could see Giotto’s magnificent Campanile. Dozens of fat pigeons scattered around them and Sonia threw them nearly all of her food before she realized they were taking advantage.

“God, look at how beautiful they are,” she exclaimed, a delighted smile lighting her features.

“Yeah, they sense you’re new around here. Look at those tourists.” He pointed out a group of young people who were feeding another flock of pigeons. “Those opportunists are so fat they can barely walk, not to mention fly,” he added amused, referring to the birds.

She laughed, brushing her hair away from her face. The wind was just a tad stronger than a breeze, but pleasant nonetheless.

“It’s so much warmer here than in England,” she said, throwing her last piece of pastry to a white pigeon that was staring at her motionless. It got into action immediately, grabbing the offering before the crust could hit the ground, and then flew away to enjoy its bounty in peace.

He got to his feet and stretched a hand to pull her up.

“Yes, it is. It’s not like this all winter though. We’ll have our share of snow.”

“I hope we’ll have snow for Christmas,” she said, nuzzling into him. “Where are we going now?”

“I want to show you The Battistero di San Giovanni.”

“San Giovanni? Does that mean Saint Giovanni?”

He chuckled.

“Yeah. Giovanni Battista is the Italian name for Saint John the Baptist.”

“Really?” she asked amazed, turning her head to look at him. “I didn’t know that. So, your name is the equivalent of John?”

“John in English, Jean in French and probably some hundreds of others.

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