Day 4: Signora Pina is alive
The fridge is full
As mentioned last night, as of today everything is completely shut, apart from pharmacies, grocery stores and newsagents. I will be sad not to see the Michael Jackson shop lady from across the road again. In all fairness, most restaurants and shops had already been shut, but I’ve seen some photos of bald men in Naples going to get haircuts, so this is probably for the best.
You need to write yourself a note to leave your house, though going for a walk is encouraged (maybe even the Italians are afraid of obesity), although it should not be in groups. To be honest, this should be the norm, because there is nothing worse than walking at a normal speed on the pavement and suddenly coming across a human chain of sloths blocking your path, which tends to be the preferred way of walking here: at a speed of 0.7km/h, in a perfect linear formation with your friends, while simultaneously texting some other friends, probably telling them how boring you find the people you are with because they’re always on their phones.
Anyone who has ever attempted to walk down Oxford Street or Corso Vittorio Emanuele II around Christmas time will know the feeling. It’s basically like having road rage on foot, without the ability to overtake unless you’re willing to risk getting hit by a car.
In short, this guy in Rome is my new hero.
Spirits are still high. I tested the balcony and it proved sturdy, though the weather was murky and some neighbour was cooking steak in the middle of the afternoon, so I went back in shortly after. I completed my third workout in a row. More video calls were made. Everyone is still smiling on screen. We also went for a walk in the park behind our house, at an approximate distance of 20 metres from other individuals. We were outnumbered by dogs.
These days, I’ve been wondering how Signora Pina is doing, our porter who lives on the ground floor and is basically the Gestapo of the building. For the first time in a week, we heard her shout “Chiiii” when she heard us walk out. The literal translation of ‘chi’ is ‘who’, but what she really means is ‘Who the f*ck are you and what are you doing on my property’. She does this to everyone, to the extent that you feel bad living here because the general sentiment is that you are shitting on her doorstep. In the time of Corona though, instead of cursing under my breath, I felt relieved. Signora Pina, you feel like home.
Lunch: Green beans in tomato sauce (AKA fasolaki, I’m still going through my nostalgia phase) and chicken thighs.
Song of the day: Stayin’ Alive
On a more serious note: If you have some spare time, read this.