And before you think that Europe turned us into raging alcoholics, let me explain a little further.
In Italy, a 'bar' is the equivalent to an American 'cafe.' Although they do serve alcohol, Italian bars are mainly coffee bars, pastry, and sandwich shops. And since the coffee machine in the CIMBA cafeteria churned out less-than-desirable cups of jo, I was incredibly thankful that there was a local bar just down the road.
The shop is owned by a woman and her husband. He speaks some English, she doesn't speak any. But the language barrier didn't bother her one bit. In-between me and Emily's orders, she would keep talking to us in Italian about anything and everything (the weather, our lives, etc.), well aware that we could only understand parts of what she was saying. We spoke back in broken Italian phrases (probably sounding like two year-olds) as she whipped up some deliciously steaming cappuccinos and delivered them with a huge smile. For a mere 1.3 euros, this little beauty was worth every penny.
While our usual order was two cappuccinos, one day we decided to skip the dorm breakfast and try some of her homemade croissants.
Which was one of the best decisions I ever made, simply because they were each filled with delectable chocolate cream...
My apologies for the blur, but really, did you expect me to stop eating for long enough to take a decent picture?
Nope. No way.
On our last day, she made me and Emily cappuccinos with cocoa, a delicious treat that I've been missing since my time at home.
And now I'm certain: if there's one thing that will draw me back to Italy in the future, it's the bars.
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