The S Word

Solo. My favorite word is back again.
Sitting at a table, alone, outside on the patio of a little restaurant about five blocks from my hotel, I recap the things I've seen so far in Bologna. As I mentioned, and scolded myself already for, I didn't do any planning coming into the city. A quick google search after getting into my hotel and I find that Bologna has lots of cool things to see, like the Fountain of Neptune, Santo Stefano church and the church of Saint Domenico, which is the fifth largest in Italy and has a capacity of 28,000. I found all three today, as well as the Saturday market and at least seven different McDonald's along the way. Apparently in Bologna, you can "have it your way" every six blocks or so on the main drag. 
The one attraction that has eluded me is the Two Towers. Built in medieval times back in the 1300's, these towers continue to defy gravity with their Pisa-like lean. Finding them is my main priority tomorrow - that and making sure I catch my train to Imola to meet my next host at 6pm. 
Right now though, it's dinner time. 
First it's bruchette. Not bruschetta, bruschette. Which means plural bruschetta. Artichoke pate, porcini mushroom and the regular tomato kind. Tasty, but the artichoke one proves to be the best. As I wait for my next course, risotto, I sip my wine and take in the surrounding scene. This piazza in particular, like many others, is cut off from car traffic so there are only the occasional scooters or pedestrians going by. To the right is a four story brick building with the top two stories having two rows of five windows. The windows don't have curtains but moveable red metal blinds that either can be shifted from the top, the bottom, or from both directions at the same time. The result is the glass of the windows peeks through in various ways and I can't help but notice that each pair of windows almost forms a set of eyes. To pass the time, I make up expressions I think they may have. The leftmost pair is drunk, for sure. The bottom right is really mad about something while the one above is as happy as can be, smiling almost. One pair appears to be - gasp - stoned and the final pair is most definitely asleep. Yes I know, this all sounds crazy, but after eating enough lunches and dinners alone (and being an only child), you figure out ways to entertain yourself. One can only do so much soul searching in one sitting. 
But no worries, you are all saved from having to read more about the random ramblings of my head because the risotto has arrived. Asparagus and prosciutto, yum. Despite not being able to finish it all, I find room for dessert and realize I have yet to try one of Italy's best contributions, tiramasu. It arrives and it's probably not the best I've ever had, but it definitely will not be my last. And of course, a meal wouldn't be a meal without limencelo. I remember when a coworker of mine back in DC went over to Italy and brought me some back as a gift. I could barely drink the stuff. Now? I judge restaurants largely by their quality of said drink. I'm not only becoming a wine snob but a limencello one as well. Go figure. This place gets a B-, just a tad too thick, if you ask me. 
At this point it is almost 9:15 and the temperature has dropped below Kari-approved levels long ago. I pay the bill, stuff my hands in my pockets and take a leisurely way back to the hotel. It's not just every night you can take a leisurely walk in Italy, you know.