Ephemeris that shall be named.
Last day today. Wandering then.
I contemplate, randomly walk like Stendhal did two centuries ago, let be moved by life’s chances, don’t try to make a story out of it. I don’t even have a name for today! I, who love so much the poetry of a title… It would be a post to be named, like poems which don’t belong to anybody.
Yet, I am suspended by both my Roman Artichokes and an unfortunate adventure which will write a story for today.
After a lovely meal in a lovely Roman Trattoria, hidden somewhere nearby the Pantheon, I have known for the first time of my four years of travels, the unpleasure to get robbed. A bit woozy from my last day of freedom with only rule to walk with no goal in order to meet one last time Rome’s centennial soul and heart, but mostly tipsy from the limoncello on the house after a lunch Spritz and a disappointing risotto, I am somewhere in between Piazza Novana and Piazza della Rotonda when, my loneliness suddenly broken by an unexpected rush, I sink into a tiny human tsunami. Time for the old lady to whom I would have given communion without confession, to steal my wallet, last resort of my treasures. Among which lied a 100 euros bill, given by my mum two years ago and that I have kept for a special occasion… In a way, being robbed by a Roman beggar is very special!
Here I am then, with no resource. No last Pistachio Gelato. No last Italian Pizza. And my winding has taken quite a chunk. Because my only occupation is now to take care of declarations to French and international instances. Police Station. Bank. Insurance. Etc. Etc. But I am lucky in my misfortune. My phone was not stolen and, if all my IDs were robbed as well, my passport is preciously secured in my Roman apartment, saving my return journey home.
Of course, my Roman dream is turning into a bit of a nightmare for a few minutes, desire and joy has deserted me. I don’t even see the point of being amazed by the place if I can’t add it to one last delicious ice cream or a Spritz on a tipsy bar.
Luckily, my little Trattoria‘s boss cheers me up with infinite kindness.
Luckily, I find back some last will as Rome is setting in the night and I go out for one last exploration in the Eternal City.
I was not expecting anything from Rome and Rome moved me by some little color touches. I know it is still keeping some secrets from me, I know I could have told hundreds of other stories but, learning to appreciate one entity’s endless and inscrutable mysteries, I am one last time held by Roman beauty as I walk through.
Justine T.Annezo – August 26th, 2020, Somewhere in Rome – GMT+2
Fleeting Wor(l)ds 