“Tra-ste-VER-e?” “No, Tra-STE-ver-e!”

Italians are never too shy to correct you. The most useful phrases we’ve learned so far are, “Puó ripetere, per favore?” and “Puó parlare piu lentamente, per favore?”

But one thing they are is accommodating. Trastevere—the name comes from its location, atras, or across from, the fiume Tevere which separates most of Rome from the Vatican—is a neighborhood where a lot of younger locals live and eat, mostly students and professionals. Above and behind the small bars and restaurants, there’s an overlook from which you can supposedly see most of the city, but we wouldn’t really know, since it was pouring rain and very hazy.

Anyway, accomodating. The restaurant was packed with italians and there was a wait, so I asked, "Possomos apostarre un nottiglia di vino and drink it outside?"

The result:

But about the view: who goes to Rome for the view from some obscure city? Views, shmiews. We ate. And drank. And ate and drank, and then we ate a little more. And I ate bacon. And bone marrow. And it was amazing.

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