Aart Heering
Again bright sun and 37 degrees Celsius today, a bit much of a good thing. I pity the tourists who resolutely or dejectedly, but at least dripping with sweat, brave the copper clams in the center of Rome not to miss the must-see sights.
But at least it is not busy, not only because of the corona measures, but mainly because the Romans themselves are absent.
In August factories, offices and homes are emptied and they leave en masse, preferably to Sardinia, which is a beautiful island most of the year, but not in August.
Most capitals think otherwise. Their idea of vacation is that of crowded beaches with tightly aligned rows of beach chairs and umbrellas, surrounded by their own and other people's screaming children, pushy salespeople, unsolicited musical entertainment and the same neighbors every year. Romans love chaos and noise and I strongly suspect they take their cars with them so as not to miss their daily dose of smog too.
That makes the city all the more pleasant for those left behind. For those who live and work here, Rome without Romans is a relief. If the air conditioning works well, the telephone rarely rings and an email only comes in every now and then, then it is quite bearable at work.
And if like me you move around by bike, then you have the road to yourself for a month and you don't have to worry about opening doors, smelly mufflers and bastards cutting you off.
Especially in the suburbs where few or no tourists come, the city radiates a De Chirico-like desolation. That's not the first time this (and last) year, but it's different now, less fraught with the sadness of the pandemic. That is of course far from over, but it is moving in the right direction and the frightening numbers of last year and this spring are far from being achieved.
A walk through the deserted neighborhood (preferably before 10 am) therefore becomes a liberating experience. Many shops and restaurants are closed, but not all of them.
You can now find groups at the end of the afternoon on otherwise packed cafe terraces senior citizens slowly sipping on bottles of Peroni beer scopa, tresette or another Italian alternative to playing klaverjas. With such calming scenes, without the usual speeding traffic, the temptation is great to sit down and order a Peroni (grande).
Just as the desert comes to life after sunset, summer Rome also gets cozy in the evenings. Residents who have spent the day sheltered from the heat at home or at work, crawl out of their caves, take a walk in the balmy evening air and invariably end up on the terrace of the cozy pizzeria of tavern near.
And if you have the luxury of your own roof terrace, then it is there, above a still reverberating city, with pizza or Bruschetta, cool white wine and fresh watermelon, also very pleasant in August.
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