One Summer in Italy by Lilly Mirren

Author:Lilly Mirren [Mirren, Lilly]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Black Lab Press

24

June 1996

Rome

When Reeda woke the next morning, it took her several disoriented moments to remember where she was. She’d slept so soundly the ear on the left side of her head was numb. She must not have moved for hours.

She rubbed her ear as her feet hit the floor, yawned then wandered to the curtains. When she pulled them aside, sunlight streamed into the room. It was late morning. She’d slept longer than she’d planned to sleep, but she felt fantastic. Better than she had in a long time. She reached for her eyeglasses, pushed them up the bridge of her nose and blinked as her sight focused.

She ordered an espresso from room service, sipped it on the balcony, wrapped in a thin, silk dressing gown and then dressed for a day of walking. Thick soled Doc Martens, jeans, a cotton shirt, wide-brimmed hat, and contact lenses replaced her black-rimmed glasses.

She was starving. She’d slept until ten am, local time, and hadn’t eaten much over the past two days. A café across the street served her a second espresso, and she couldn’t resist ordering a serving of ciambella—fried donuts rolled in granulated sugar and some fresh fruit. It might take her body a while to adjust to the strength of the coffee, but the food was delicious. Satisfied she sipped a glass of water as the sun rose higher still in the sky overhead.

She spent the day walking around Rome. Her backpack contained a novel, a block of Italian chocolate, mineral water, a camera, and the guidebook. She sat on the Spanish steps and read for a while, breaking off pieces of chocolate to eat, and looking up to watch pigeons fighting over bread crumbs thrown by a group of children, tourists climbing up and down the steps, and the water spurting from a fountain nearby.

Next stop was the Vatican, Saint Peter’s Square, and St. Peter’s Basilica. Reeda took dozens of photographs. There was so much to see, she couldn’t resist capturing it all. Thankfully there was plenty of film available in a small convenience shop across the street from her hotel. She was amazed by the sight of remains, hundreds of years old, that’d been kept for their healing properties. Not being a Catholic herself, most of the things on display didn’t mean much to her, but she couldn’t ignore the beauty and serenity of the buildings, paintings, sculptures, and gardens.

Everywhere she went, Italians bustled about dressed in suits, gowns, the latest fashions. The men had hair combed just so, dark and slick against their scalps, tanned faces, dark eyes, all with somewhere to go. And in their midst, tourists milled about, in shorts and T-shirts, maps unfolded between clutching hands, hats perched on top of heads and wearing comfortable walking shoes. It was easy to spot the difference, and Reeda felt under dressed. Not something she was accustomed to.

She’d been hoping to see the Galleria Colonna, but it was only open to the public on Saturdays, and she’d planned to leave for Sulmona on Thursday.

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