EVERYTHING… IMPECCABLY CRAFTED. NOTHING REFINED.
I opened my eyes and stared into a rustic, antique wooden-ceiling. It’s an unusually early hour for me to wake up to but both the street-washing vehicle just outside the window and my jetlag demanded it. This was a morning as routine as any. We woke up, cleaned ourselves and got dressed. But instead of a solitary morning of me courting my coffee machine, we walked down one flight of antique stone-steps into another world and strolled to the piazza-next-door for a cup of cappuccino with anticipations of company. People were there as promised, gathering in front of the cafe bar chatting. We funneled through the cappuccino crowd as you would in a big family getting through the morning in an orderly chaos. Two cappuccinos, one cornetto. As usual.Continue Reading