We'd spent much of the day getting last-minute estimates for a new bathroom and for an awning over our sun-baked balcony--projects we hope to take up in the fall. The combined stress of decision-making, money-spending, and figuring out the Italian for "heated towel rack" left both of us eager for what Italians call "il relax."
Pam and Romano met us at our favorite bar on the piazza, N'Ombra de vin, which offers shade, breezes, and very generous free snacks of pizza, chips, and mortadella with your drink. I didn't remember to take a photo until it was almost time to say good-bye.
(We didn't consume a can of tomatoes as part of our evening--the bar uses those cans as napkin holders.)
Admitting publicly how many things I'd intended to do while in Italy this time but hadn't gotten around to spurred me to actually do a few of them. The night before Danny and I stopped by the Cantina del Bugiardo (the Liar's Cellar) and had a drink. It was a charming little place and they claim to make a genuine dry martini. We'll have to go back in the fall and see if it's true. We've looked for dry vermouth without any success and I have yet to encounter a cocktail here that isn't sweet. I'm not usually a martini drinker, but all these sugary spritzes make me thirsty for an American one.
I also gathered all my courage and went into two women's clothing stores that I've been eyeing every since we moved into the apartment. One is Pinko, a local Fidenza brand that is now a national one, and the other is Fiammingo Workshop, which seems to make many of its own clothes. As I suspected from their window displays, the clothes were a little too young and a little too Italian for yours truly (a black sweatshirt with white breasts drawn on it? A sequined halter top? A python mini-skirt? Um, no.) Still, I felt like I'd accomplished something just by going in, and the clothes were certainly fun to look at.
This morning we finished closing up the apartment and packing our bags. We washed the sheets and towels. We gave Pia, our lovely upstairs neighbor, the tomato and banana and onion we hadn't gotten around to consuming and asked her to foster-care Danny's lemon tree while we're gone.
Everything will be ready for us when we return. But seeing the place all tidied and no longer lived-in, with all the shutters closed tight, always hurts my heart a little.
Just as we were heading out to the train station a thunderstorm broke, so we had to run the couple of blocks in pouring rain, trying to simultaneously huddle under a shared umbrella and push along our giant suitcases. (They're mostly empty but we need them for the stuff we'll be hauling back in the fall.) I wish I had a video of that. By the time we got to the train station we were pretty soaked. Here's the piazza in front of the station.
And this was our last sight of Fidenza this time around.
It seemed appropriately sad.
I have to keep reminding myself that we'll be back in not too long. And that I have so many people and activities and other pleasures in California to look forward to.
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