Rome III

As I napped, the voices of workers were boisterous and merry in the alleys below. It well disposed me toward the Italians, even if nothing else had done.

I intended of have cappuccino on the Pizza Novona, and that’s exactly what I did, in the shade of the café awnings while the sun blazed blanco e azzura over the sugar-white piazza. That I arrived at the same moment as a hundred elderly bus-taking American tourists I tried to put behind me. I can order fine in Italian. Only if the waiters try to engage in chit-chat am I lost. All the fountains of Rome are undergoing some repair or other. Triton was holding rags for the workers. Then back to the Pantheon, which can be quite crowded and still convey a sense of holiness. Arrived at noon and the oculus beat its shaft upon the floor direct. Everybody is happy right now in this city, and that makes me happy, too. The beauty of the Italians is a little rough, as though they had achieved so much n the past they need not try so hard now. Ate lunch at a café that took up space in a via already so narrow that vehicles had to stop and edge through, backing up pedestrians behind them. Got a little lost coming home. At one point, after the ill-advised lunch, my stomach was acidic, I was nauseated, feared imminent diarrhea, limped upon my ravaged legs and bruised feet, and was generally in a quite bad mood. Cursed the Via Nazionale for being as long as it is. Came home and slept it off. Dinner with Will in a few minutes. I came in just as some terrible internal row was ending– Will says the F-bombs dropped incessantly. I don’t know what the trouble was, but this place seems a little toxic. Certain people are not feeling the way they want to feel, not getting the feedback they want to get about their labors. You’d think a church would run upon smiles and backslaps, but this one does not. Will valiantly clings to his vocation, even while noticing it all. I think he was always meant for this.