Divine wine
I concluded my wander at the charming Piazza della Maddalena and the equally excellent wine-bar, Divinum. I assume this is an Italian play on words, with it being a wine-bar opposite a church (Santa Maria della Maddalena). This was the view from my seat.
My barman, the excellently-named Maximillian, proved to be an authority on wine and even indulged my frequent crazed giggling fits as I read P G Wodehouse’s Stiff Upper Lip, Jeeves – a book I emphatically recommend to combat melancholy in any of its varied forms – and one which, with its utter Englishness, was a perfectly incongruous read in the middle of Rome.
He recommended a nice Chianti, which was
not spoilt by the omission of liver and some fava beans
(fff,fff,fff.)
Rome is a wonderfully historical and dilapidated city. A brief wander away from the usual tourist sites reveals some great spots to sit and sip wine and/or espresso and watch the Italians being Italian.
In fact watching is only part of the joy. You have to listen to really drink-in the Italian-ness. The language is so wonderfully inflected and petulant, with every word appearing to be at once plaintive, joyous, earnest and histrionic, that I vow to never learn Italian or I will never be able to refuse a request made in it.
If you do go to Rome, the quadrant defined by the Pantheon, Campo de Fiori, Piazza Navona and Piazza della Maddalena will provide you with a roman experience I suspect many tourists overlook.
