Chicchirichì! That's the sound Italian roosters make, and the sound I imagined hearing when I woke up each morning this beautiful weekend in Bologna. I spent the first day with Kevin, enjoying Bolognese food (maccheroncini con salsiccia e porcini) and gelato from Castiglione (pistacchio e cioccolato, what else?) and paying yet another visit to my favorite Santo Stefano to marvel at the incalculable seven churches and the stunning mosaic tiles.
That evening I joined Alessandro (the Alessandro that was Shawn's roommate next door when we all lived together in our own Italian version of the series Friends) at his apartment and met all his new roommates in all their quintessential Bolognese student glory. Despite being nothing like any of them, they made me feel right at home! Azzurra, Alessandro, and Francesco came to join us and we ordered pizza, caught up, and later walked around the city for a bit.
Saturday was a big shopping day spent at the Montagnola market trying not to get robbed or arrested for yelling at people for personal space violations. In the evening, we spent an aperitivo talking about ghosts and spirits and life after death, which all got very complicated not on account of conversing with Italians, but with atheists. Later on, we passed by a bar with a live rock cover band to see Federica and Vittorio, and despite a guy spilling my wine all over me, we had fun enjoying Italians recreating Prince and other wonders of the music world.
Bologna looked as stunning as ever and Piazza Maggiore sottle le stelle took my breath away. All weekend, as usual, I was dealing with a serious bout of nostalgia, missing friends no longer in Bologna, wishing I still lived there, reveling in my countless memories and having difficulty suppressing a sort of Singing in the Rain comical smile.
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