The Way Rome Intended…
EVERYTHING… IMPECCABLY CRAFTED. NOTHING REFINED.
I opened my eyes and stared into a rustic, antique wooden-ceiling. I had a similar scene as I rolled over to see the antique table and chair set alike to the antique chairs for sale I see when walking through the old market in my home town. I like the rustic look and have always been tempted to purchase some, but I’ve never gotten round to it. The strange thing about this though, is it was 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 and chatting away. We funnelled 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.
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