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Olivia

I stare up at the sign above the door, and I smile

When in Rome

That’smyself sick

The weather is war I dreamt it would be

I’m in week two of a five-week Italian vacation I’ve been to Venice and I’ve been to Tuscany I may also be in the middle of a small midlife crisis, but whatever It’s forced me out of my comfort zone and into this Heaven, so I’ll take it

I push open the dark, heavy, timber door, and I walk into the bar and restaurant It’s dusk outside, and the restaurant is large with a huge back garden area Fairy lights are lighting up the space, and it has a party feel to it with jovial laughter echoing loudly aroundat the front, and the place is a hive of activity One uitar I can’t understand what they’re saying but I don’t need to It sounds so good—so Italian

I take a seat at a table for two outside in the courtyard

“Buona sera” The waiter grins as he approaches

I slish?”

“Ah, yes, Madame How can I help you?”

I quickly peruse the menu “May I have a Prosecco, please?”

“Ottimo” He nods and takes off in the direction of the bar, leaving s

Everything is exaggerated in Italy The hand gestures, the laughing, the story telling

The beauty of the language I could sit and listen to people speak Italian all day, and I have done so for fourteen days straight now

It’s been the best trip I thought I would have been nervous traveling on my own, but I’ve found an inner bravery I didn’t know I had I’ve eaten out every night by myself, and I haven’t once felt self-conscious or unsafe The people are all so lovely and friendly that I feel totally at home

I glance around the crowded bar and see people drinking, laughing, and having the ti as I watch them talk with their friends

The waiter comes back with an entire bottle of Prosecco, and my face falls Oh jeez,