I have signed up to a gym, but sometimes I forget to get off the tram on time and miss my stop for said gym.
Then I get home and feel guilty, especially as my thoughtful brothers sent me a care package full of the sweetest chocolate know to man (Cadbury), that sadly one cannot purchase in Italy.
So, after several minutes eyeing said chocolate, (flirting with me in it’s purple suit) – I dive into my trainers and scramble out the door before you can say ‘Cadbury Kisses.’
About five minutes down the cobbled street from my apartment, weaving through porticos and dodging tipsy cyclists, I fall into a radiant collage of translucent sky and space. This is Prato della Valle, one of the biggest piazzas in the whole of Europe. The triangular blue space is belted in by a long line of small palazzos, each one in different pastel colours and boasting balconies of all shapes and sizes.
Let your eyes fall into the distance and majestically bubbling out of the piazza is the chiesa Santa Giustina, crowned by a multitude of blue-green domes giving it an oriental flair. Once upon a time, this piazza transformed into an open-air theatre for all parties, ceremonies and any event citizen life inspired.
As I tread by, the statues are as cool as regal ghosts.
Prato della Valle blurs architecture, nature, tradition and history; laying them out together into a simple statue and water combination.
It is big, bright and beautiful.
It is too much. I set out for a quick pre-dinner jog to clear my mind and lungs, arriving back in my quiet hallway inspired and exhausted from the knowledge that this scraping of culture and history is only a flicker of what there is to see.