I’m almost near the end of my time here in Rome. On the one hand I’m excited to go home—I’ve been studying abroad for a year now and there are so many things I miss—but at the same time I’m not ready to leave. Living in Rome has been an adventure. Being able to travel every weekend and to constantly see new things is something I don’t think I’d ever get tired of. Being able to return to a sunny apartment in Rome made the experience even better.
One thing that has been a surprising joy is standing at a bar, drinking a cappuccino in the mornings. It was something I was a bit confused by when I first arrived here. One, that what we would call cafes are called bars, and two, that there are often very few seats in these cafes. Instead you see people lined up at the bar, sipping at on their espressos and macchiato, bags leant against their legs, looking for all intents and purposes completely settled there.
Taking a coffee to go will garner you some odd looks—certainly you’ve clearly marked yourself as a foreigner—because very few Italians drink their coffees outside the bar. For a dyed in the wool Starbucks patron, where almost everyone gets their drinks in paper and plastic to go cups, it all seemed a bit off-putting.
I gave it a try though. Standing by myself, my bag leant against my leg, in comfortable silence with strangers doing the same on either side of me, I realized it wasn’t so bad. And coffee tastes worlds better when it’s not coming out of a paper cup. It’s a way to relax a bit as well, after a stressful morning commute (and public transport in Rome, during rush hour is a trial, a trial of wills, patience, and balance).
It’s such a small thing, but it has made me enjoy coffee in a different, if equally ritualized way. Before living in Rome, coffee meant a to-go iced latte or chai from Starbucks, taken to class, or to drink while studying. It was a way to supplement an experience, or to make it more palatable. In Rome, coffee is the experience, and it’s one I’ve come to love.