After various years of having holidays in strange periods (at least strange for Italians) I am finally on holiday during summer.
Middle of August is the starting date, and first week of September will be the end. It's quite exciting. Everybody is on holiday in Italy in the summer months, and August is the king of holidays. Shops could be closed, restaurants could be closed. Because being Italy a place where people from other countries would never spend their holidays, the best time of the year for a commercial activity to closed due to holidays is indeed summer, isn't it?
Yes, it is.
But I am not here to talk about the commercial wisdom of Italians. I am here because what was supposed to be my "in fieri" date just dumped me and I am supposed to wait at least 1 hour more before I can go home. So I have to spend some time. I am outside of a restaurant, on a wooden chair with cushions, crickets are playing their music, the air is a bit chilly (it has been a atypical summer) but it's quite and nice out here. I listen to the talks of the other clients of the restaurant (the restaurant is owned by a friend, I am technically not a client...) and we are at the edge of the country, there is a little garden below some trees with little lights between their leaves... what I want to explain is that is fucking beautiful out here.
And ok... I thought I would have gone home with at least a kiss, I'll go home with maximum an headache from the cold but who cares. It has been a wonderful evening and no one cares about anything else. It is a wonderful place and no one will object about it. It is a wonderful life and no one can deny it.