Via del Corso was a hive of activity, thronging pedestrians overflowed the narrow pavements creating bottlenecks of cars and scooters with horns screaming and drivers shouting. He wove his way through them, like a grain of sand filtering through a jar of marbles. When he had first arrived in Rome Jasper had been utterly perplexed by the manner in which the locals and tourists alike seemed to meander gently along the roads. Now though he was all elbows and decisive purpose. He had never lived in London but he felt that this must be how Londoners all walked, with a very specific destination in mind and a quiet disdain for those moving slowly and enjoying themselves.
He made quick time heading North, only knocking over several meandering Americans as he forged forward, passing by several big name highstreet shops crammed next to the souvenir stands and ancient museums. He cut across the road, dancing around a swerving taxi and came to the sho. The Zara in Rome was a true marvel of millennial culture, a tribute to cheaply, questionably made clothing that was unarguably very fashionable, if skinny jeans and floral shirts were your vibe. Which they were for Jasper. 4 floors worth of 'hip' clothes rose up in an gutted old block of apartments, light streaming in to illuminate the excited Italian tweens, tired looking parents and sheepish looking young adults pretending that they didn’t secretly really want to try on the red velvet trilby.
He pushed his way through the large glass double doors and was immediately assaulted with a blast of air conditioning. The security guards were wearing full black suits and still looked chilly, one of them was even wearing a jumper over his shirt. It was one thing that the Italians had sluggishly allowed to encroach on their culture from America, the liberal use of air-conditioning. Only in the large highstreet shops mind you, in back alley boutiques you still had to lump it with the sweat glands that god gave you.
He wove his way amongst the rows of colourful sun dresses as he thought to himself how many possible types of skinny jeans could one brand produce when he felt a tap on his right shoulder. He spun to turn to the offender but noone was there, however this was a trick he was accustomed to having gone to Boarding school and so managed to play it off with a dramatic flourish as he completed his spin full circle to come face to face with Ele and Em.
"Alright dickhead?" He said smiling at Emily, but before she could reply Ele had rushed forward and swept him into a rib crushing embrace.
"JASPAAAAAAAAR!" She squeeled, pressing herself into him. Jasper couldn't help but grin. Ele was the most un self-conscious, loving and all around brilliant person that God had had the good sense to put legs onto. Simply put, she was a mother to the whole world. She cared so deeply for every person that you couldn't help but fall in love with her in every sense, her energy made her irresistible, not to mention her incredible capacity for organising fantastic nights out and weekends away. Most of all though she was kind, her capacity for kindness and seeing the good in others was superhuman, far more deserving of a novel or screenplay than any jumped up comicbook character.
Emily liked gin with little swirls of cucumber in it, and for that reason she was the best person Jasper had met in Rome yet. Besides this sheseemed to be one of the few ex pats apart from himself that still possessed that abrasive dry sarcasm that sets an Englishman aside from all other nationalities. Over gin and self-deprecating humour him and Emily had spent many evenings bonding whilst all the Italians sat and swapped fatuous compliments.
He grinned at Emily over Ele's head and she rolled her eyes.
"It's good to see you Ele, but can I have my lungs back please?" He asked, feigning breathlessness. She gave him a last affectionate squeeze then stepped back. Emily swept in and gave him a light kiss on the cheek.
"That's all you get" she said stepping back again and pretending to look at a nearby dress.
"It's no more than I would expect" Jasper replied with a slight mocking bow. They all had a little giggle and then steamed off into conversation about dresses. It was the easy conversation of three people who were totally relaxed together. It was a bizarre thing, Jasper had often thought, he had only known these people for a comparatively short time, particularly when compared to friends back in the UK and yet the strangeness of their situation had meant that he would probably class these two women as his closest friends, people he wouldn't hesitate to say would move heaven and earth to help him. These were friends for life, despite their questionable tastes in sundresses.
"Oh please Ele, that?" He asked, channeling his best Trini and Suzanna, hand on hip, eyebrows raised in disgust.
"What? Not Yellow enough?" Asked Ele, holding the lurid canary dress against herself and making a little grinning twirl.
"It's not that, it's just I think the sun might get a little jealous that you're stealing it's job" Em snorted whilst fingering the hem of a floral pattern set of aladin pants.
"Now you see Em here has true taste"
"Fuck off Jasper"
"No really look at these, the texture, the colour clashes" he picked the trousers up and did a little dance that was probably borderline racist.
"Fuck off Jasper" Em repeated, in the same tone.
She ended up buying the trousers. Ele had been paid that week and the cash was burning a hole in her pocket, so she left the shop sporting a rather fetching Hepburn-esque hat and four large bags, two of which she had deposited on Jasper who hadn't been paid in what felt like three months so was happy to carry her shopping.
"Right then" Ele said, beaming up and down the length of Via del corso, illuminating the street as she did. "I think it's picnic weather don't you?" She spun to the other two, it wasn't a question, it was an inspired idea that of course we were going to go along with. Jasper checked his watch. Initially he wasn't sure why then he remembered with a start of his heart. In the excitement he had almost forgotten the fascinations of the morning. A wave of pleasure and something akin to adrenaline washed over him as the irrational thought that he was late was quickly quelled by realising that obviously he still had several hours until he was due to go meet Giulia.
"You alright Jasper?" Asked Em, looking at him with a half smirk and a cocked eyebrow.
"I'm fine I just... I had forgotten about something"
"Oh yeah?" It was an invitation to continue, but he merely smiled sheepishly.
"Ohhhhh no you're not getting off that easy" Ele took one arm in her bag laden one
"Yup. Spill" Em took the other and they began frogmarching up the road, heading north again.
"You've got until Del Popolo to tell us, then I'm afraid we'll have to resort to drastic measures." Jasper didn't know what 'drastic measures' were but the two women were infinitely imaginative whilst also dangerously in sync. He smiled.
"Well. You remember I mentioned that girl in the bar near mine?" He started, Em immediately rolled her eyes and let go of his arm
"What, did she give you a smile when she handed you your third beer?"
"Did she laugh when you made a joke about the table clothes?"
"Maybe she touched your arm as she walked by to a nearby table and now she's obviously head over heels for you?" He grinned,
"More than that actually" he proceeded to explain the events of the morning. The women, to their credit let him go on with only the smallest quivers of laughter twitching at the corners of their mouths. He finished and the two of them gave each other a look.
"Well..." Began Ele
"Who knew stalking would ever actually pay off!"
"Hey!" Exclaimed Jasper, genuinely a little hurt.
"Oh come on it was a little stalkerish... You always in the bar, hoping she'd talk to you but never starting a conversation yourself." Em looked at him accusingly, Ele frowned.
"No I think it was sweet! It's not like he was following her home, he's Jasper, he couldn't hurt a fly"
"Not sure why you said couldn't instead of wouldn't there Ele" he muttered but the two went on ignoring him.
"Sweet?"
"Yeah, sweet. It's like he's happy to just be there in her company, I think it's romantic."
"Yeah if your idea of romance is a love-sick puppy"
"Please, I don't think puppies have the kinds of thoughts that this one does" she pointed a thumb at him accusingly.
"Will you two...?" Jasper started ove rthe top of their now raucous laughter. "Cackling witches" he muttered again but couldn't help but grin too.
"We're kidding J." Em said recovering.
"Of course, the only person's opinion that matters is hers. And clearly she likes it."
"Really? You thing she likes me" Jasper asked, immediately regretting it as he had sounded like a beady eyed Disney character. Em clipped him round the back of the head.
"Noone likes you idiot. Your personality is inherently unlikeable."
"nooooo he's beautiful" Ele gave him a quick reassuring hug, which was only semi sarcastic.
"You two are a bad dream"
"Noone wants to know what you dream about" Emily sniped back with a smirk that he returned and the three of them walked on.
These were the days he lived for in Rome. Regardless of his morning with Giulia, a Saturday afternoon with his bonkers friends could only ever be utterly brilliant. The girls got their phones out and were quickly sending the round robin texts to collect as many of their motley crew together as they could. There were always a few absentees but on a good day they could expect about 10 or so of them to answer the rallying cry.
"Massi, Claudio and Ally will meet us there"
"Veronica can't make it, she's still in Palermo"
"Kave can't either which is a relief"
"Still don't know why you invite him... Saoirse is in but maybe a little later"
"Apparently Stef is already in Borghese"
"So's Stefania, I wonder if they're together?"
"No Stefania is with some friends, she asks if they can come?"
"How pretty are they?" Interjected Jasper with a sly smile.
"Too pretty for you" Emily cut back without looking up
"What would Giulia say?" Ele said with a tut and shake of her head. Jasper rolled his eyes and left them to it, fishing a cigarette from his pocket. Their organisational capacity was truly astonishing. Most high-grade CEOs would struggle to collect their friend group together in a manner as efficient as the Emily – Ele partnership could. Jasper had tried to organise a night once and to say it had been like herding cats would be a gross understatement. It was like trying to heard cats which all lived in different countries and where only half of them could read the time whilst the other half were completely incapable of reading a map. He had delegated to Ele pretty quick and the team had been together within the hour.
"Right" Em snapped her phone shut and looked up at the square around them before holding her hand out to Jasper for a cigarette.
"They're menthol"
"urgh" she made a face and retracted the hand again, pulling out her own rolling tobacco. They were standing in the centre of the Piazza Del Popolo, the grand square at the end of the theree main roads of the Old City, Via Del Corso the one they'd just come up, Via Di Ripetta which led down to the river to the West and Via Del Babuino which led to the Spanish Steps. It had been the Spanish Steps where Jasper had first stayed seven years ago as a teenager and there where he had first fallen in love with the city, so the area held a particular glow for him, beyond the ambient warmth of the cobbles.
The Piazza itself was an ancient one, the original view into Rome for those who had arrived along the Roman Via Flaminia, which speared North to Rimini. A large Oblong specifically designed to instill awe it was often used as an entertainment space, parades would begin and end there, marathon runners would burst into the space for their finish and (historically) gruesome public executions were carried out on the greying cobbles. Today a couple of fire eaters were putting on a performance for a throng of tourists, adding flame-light to the already glaring orange of the daylight. Jasper wasn't sure what he thought about the square. It had a certain majesty for sure but he didn't find it colourful enough, it was all a little grey, a little too well structured, a little un-Italian. There wasn't enough of the higgledy-piggledy charm of some of the other districts that he found himself more drawn to. It did have one saving grace though: The Pincio. Curling up a winding road which doubled back on itself, you came to a little structured garden and temple-esque building which looked out over the piazza, and then sprawling back from there were the splendid Borghese Gardens.
They were a marvel. Split into two halves, the closer half had been converted into a much more structured design, paths lined with statues and little cafes gave way to scrubbish grass, sprawling patios and little fairgrounds where children screamed and laughed in their hundreds, Nonnas looking on vaguely to make sure they brought home one that looked similar to their grandchild. Adding to the noise and excitement/peril were the tourists who had made the mistake of hiring out a peddle powered buggy. Notorious for the total lack of control over either speed or steering, pedestrians had to maintain a constant vigil for the sound of squeeling brakes and screaming passengers as the lurid yellow beasts careened around the corners of the paths, rarely settling on four wheels. The more sensible of the tourists would stick to the cheaply hired bicycles, far easier to manage as you would only get about five yards at any speed before one or both wheels fell off and you were stuck walking anyway.
The second half of the park was the more 'garden-esque' however. Flowing out from the famous Borghese gallery, grass and hedgerows the envy of any well-manicured country home provided sanctuary for groups of Italians to sit and simply bask in the brilliance of their weather. Sunlight cascaded down to wash the lawns and sun-bathers alike, piercing through the sparse tree cover to burn the wanton tourist and bless the hardy local. Between the copses of trees and tangled hedges you could stumble onto any of the following:
A small chapel,
A large chapel,
A lake complete with temple and rowing boats (a favourite spot for the romantics),
A full sized gallops/chariot race track,
A zoo,
A cinema,
An enormous statue of Garibaldi (the man not the biscuit),
A couple of shrines to various Roman deities and
An inch perfect reconstruction of Shakespeare's globe theatre, complete with poor production quality, dodgy 'modern takes' and massively inflated prices.
If Piazza del Popolo was too 'structured' for Jasper, then the Villa Borghese gardens were the right balance of architectural beauty and Italian madness. It was the perfect spot for an afternoon of relaxing with a book, or for the three ex-pats trudging their way up the Pincio staircase, it was the ultimate destination for frivolity and feasting.
