��������

When In Rome Not All Tourist Do As The Romans Do
(As remembered 5-14-2005)

Our first day in Roma was Sunday May 19, 2005, we arrived in the afternoon. We just missed our Canadian friends at the hotel where we were all staying, so we were informed by the desk clerk at the hotel. Well, these guys must be around and about, maybe we run into them; after all, how big can Roma’s tourist attraction area really be, I muttered mostly to myself. I discovered the answer through our tired and sore feet; it is big!

We arrived at a little piazza, the name of which I no longer recall, and found a cute arrangement of tables in front of Caffè Lèonardo. It was heavy overcast and the fact that each table was equipped with an umbrella, made this place very attractive. We rested our tired bones and refreshed our souls with Cappuccino for Mona, and a beer for me. I looked around, after my brain was no longer occupied with my tortured feet, and noticed in front of us a bunch of people who spoke a language very much sounding like Dutch. To our right, was a single young woman kissing her hot Cappuccino. For a moment I felt sorry for her; imagine being in a romantic place like Roma all by yourself. I quickly switched from this unpleasant thought and instructed my brain to find a way to get these separate groups together in conversation, this would relief the feeling I just had a moment ago, and it could be fun.

My wife and I over the years (25 years then) have developed a conversation style that makes people often wonder, “are these guys fighting, or are they having some fun”. We always have fun with our give and take exchanges. I started the process by making my first ridiculous statement (not too loud but loud enough to carry a short distance), “you know I could be in sunny California, instead of having to look at all these tourist attractions here in Rome, probably tomorrow you will drag me to the Sistine Chapel, and all these fountains, whatever their names are.” I pretended to ignore everybody, but from the corner of my eyes I could see their grins; the process has started. A few more of my silly comments with the usual comeback by Mona, and before we knew it jokes were now flying between the tables. Even the lone young lady found the courage to exchange some witty remarks of her own.

As is often the case, when God sees a good thing he cannot resist to enter into the fray and help things along; what did he do? He opened the gates of heaven and down came a rain-shower that was truly out of this world. Within minutes the water was gushing down the rain pipes, and it was only a very short while into the rain, when our feet were in a rushing torrent. We had the table close to the wall and therefore suffered the most; I always live by the credo, have your back against the wall and the attack can only come from the front. This time, the exception validated my rule, at least in my view. Well, with this situation at hand I had the golden opportunity to invite ourselves into the less inundated area occupied by the large group of funny sounding people. We were immediately accepted, and I took license to also invite the young lady, who was next on God’s agenda to be flushed away.

After the initial introduction by all, it turned out that we had formed some sort of international society, we had people from Holland, Belgium, Canada, Lebanon and Germany (via California); the young lady was from Canada. More jokes were made against each other, the group very quickly learned our style of ‘give and take’ dialogue, intermixed with lots of laughter, as it should be. We all had so much fun and enjoyed each others company, that I proposed to take dinner together inside Caffè Lèonardo, it was approved without a second thought. I surveyed the inside of the restaurant and found at the very end of it a most charming place. The walls were painted, giving the impression one is sitting in a beautiful, colorful piazza. The owner, after receiving a proper head-count arranged for a long table to be set for dinner. With the owner’s permission, using their telephone, I called our Canadian friends at the hotel, fortunately they just had arrived, and I quickly told them the situation at hand and asked them to rush to Caffè Lèonardo. I also mentioned that we were in the company of another Canadian person. My friend told me, “funny we also met a Canadian lady and spent the afternoon with her”. I replied, “are there anymore Canadians left in Canada?” He promised to rush, and I returned to the ongoing party, which continued now inside this cozy place. The jokes and laughter continued, when our Canadian friends arrived with their mouth wide open and their eyes in total disbelief. Finally, the young Canadian woman jumped to her feet, and exclaimed, “Alan, Helena I can’t belief it, it is you! It took us a few seconds to figure out that the Canadian lady had spent the entire mid-afternoon with them, only to be in our company a little later. I said to myself, perhaps Rome’s tourist area is not that big after all, it may just be that my feet are getting old. Well, wine good food and copious laughter was enjoyed by all, and as is mostly the case, song broke out in a number of languages, including “O Solo Mio”. We had so much fun that we totally forgot that some �������� natives had probably come to this place for a quiet dinner, only to find this place was invaded by a horde of strange sounding tourists. I still remember seeing some leave, but I am not sure if we were the cause of it or not. Nobody complaint!

Hours later, we made these usual but empty promises to exchange emails and photos, (some emails did not work, others did not respond-too busy probably), we hugged, kissed, and waved goodbye as we walked away in different directions. We walked off with our Canadian friends still giggling all the way.