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Must. Stay. Focused.
That’s my mantra, this week — I’m multitasking more than ever. (7 product launches in 8 countries in 4 weeks, gah!). Making things worse (or better, just depends when you ask) is the fact that Azure, Emelyn, and I plan to punch out on Wednesday evening and head to Rome for a long Easter weekend. I can’t believe how much we’re all looking forward to this - 5 full days as a family sounds pretty unreal, right now.
Plus, it’s Rome, of all places. I’m clutching plenty of joy in my life, these days, but Rome remains an unrequited love, and leaving the place still pangs me more than I ought admit. As to how that crumbling, congested wreck of a city ever managed to shift the orbit of my life so many degrees, I have no idea. Nor do I know just how long we’ll keep circling it, from afar.
Course, it’s all different this time ‘round. Azure and I know the Centro Storico like the backs of our hands; either of us could plot you a course across the city that minimizes distance travelled while maximizing gelaterias en-route; knowledge like that dies hard.
Thing is, we’ve never done it with a stroller. (And nevermind a baby.) It’s not going to be easy. Hell, the thought of merely crossing the street in Rome just struck fear deep into my heart.
The trick, you see, to asserting pedestrian rights in Italy is to conspicuously not look towards oncoming traffic. Should you foolishly glance at a car barreling towards you, and they see you see them, man, there’s no way they’re slowing down. (They know you’re not that dumb.) No, in Italy, what you’ve got to do is to boldly and confidently step out into the middle of the road, and in a manner that indicates you are either (A) suicidal or (B) lack any peripheral vision whatsoever. In this case, drivers will slam on their brakes, afraid they might dent their cinquecento, and you’re golden. (An easy way to visualize all this is to harken back to the Indiana Jones movie where he blindly steps onto the invisible bridge - it’s exactly the same sort of ‘leap of faith’ pose you need for stepping off the curb.)
So I’m supposed to do that with a Bugaboo? Talk about raising the ante.
Then, of course, there’s the whole eating-and-drinking thing. Let’s be frank, shall we — Azure and I are not planning on visiting many museums and churches over Easter - this trip is all about precision-targeted raids at Pizzeria Da Baffeto’s, Pizzeria ai Marmi, Café San Eustachio, Gelateria di San Crispino, Da Tonino’s et cetera. They say the Italians love i bambini, but I don’t recall seeing a lot of high chairs and sippy cups in any of these spots. I can happily say that Emelyn remains pretty well-behaved in public, but still, we’re going to have to make a lot of judgement calls on whether or not our presence at a restaurant is, erm, appropriate.
Roma, ci vediamo subito. In the meantime, I should get back to work…
