A cup of coffee with a lesson
I love to travel; I love the adventure of it, all that is unknown and soon to become known. In that spirit I once impulsively booked a trip to Rome. This was at a time when both our workloads were intense but there was a brief break of about a week when we could get away together. The destination – actually the whole trip – came about because as I logged on my computer, the screen showed various pop-up ads. One ad was from Expedia and invited us to Italy.
I clicked and clicked some more on the links. What dates? I entered our availability. What destination? From the pull down list I impulsively clicked on Rome – why not? As I continued to complete the online form, my husband entered the room almost as if on cue. I asked him, “Do you want to go to Rome with me?” Since he gave the only right answer, we were soon booked and off on our second long-haul overseas trip.
We stayed at the Hotel Alessandrino – about half a mile, comfortable walking distance from the Vatican. From this base we walked the streets of Rome every day, on our own self-guided exploration. The hotel is in a residential neighborhood, a short walk from the San Pietro train station. As we walked, I immersed myself in observing the daily life of the city. Along the streets there were small shops where groceries were bought fresh daily – every day – instead of the weekly supermarket loads I usually hauled home. Homes were of rich, warm stucco colors, and peering into windows, I could see a lot of art on the walls. I smile now as I remember we were there in July and it was hot, but not as hot as Las Vegas where we lived. We stopped several times each day for a cool, delicious, flavorful gelato. Grazie! Throughout our walks we passed several small shops that sold the prized gelato along with soups and salads and pre-assembled sandwiches that would become grilled Panini.
One day, as we walked along we stopped for a coffee and pastry. We entered a tiny storefront where there was just a counter and one small table. It must have been coffee break time, for as we sat at the sole table we observed people who entered from a nearby office building. They stopped at the counter, ordered an espresso, downed it in one or two gulps, exchanged a couple of words with any other patron there, and then returned to work.
I love to process my travel observations and once I returned home, I often replayed this coffee break scene in my mind. It lingered with me – the contrast between the Roman style of coffee break and the ‘Break Room’ in our offices. In the building where I worked there was a spacious Break Room. It featured a large urn of stale over-heated coffee which had been brewed first thing in the morning and was there to last all day. Accompanying the ‘coffee’ we had to have all the various sugars and sugar substitutes, flavored syrups and assortment of creamers that were needed to satisfy all the tastes and dietary preferences. At home there was no opportunity to walk to a nearby shop because the walk would take too long, especially in the suburbs. And so we were indoors, isolated, and able to enjoy only the company of our office colleagues. And I realized that the biggest deficit was that we were not able to enjoy that deep, rich, fresh-ground and fresh-brewed Italian espresso.
On that and subsequent visits to Italy I’ve also experienced coffee breaks in the charming bars found at the train stations. The bar is where you purchase your ticket, buy a newspaper, cigarettes (if you are a smoker), and have an espresso or a glass of wine while waiting for your train. Yes, wine was openly available – at first it amazed me because apparently it was sold throughout the day, no one was observed being rowdy after drinking too much, and there was no need for large window-sized posters to advertise that wine, beer and cigarettes were available for sale.
It was all so . . . elegant.
