I’m not a fan of Bob Dylan. I do know some of his songs, specially “Perfect Day” due to Trainspotting. The movie kind of marked me in some way, since I was around Scotland at the moment of its release. So what’s a perfect day? I’m gonna share it with you.
After the morning coffee I quickly head out with my little son. The sun is shining, but it’s not hot. We take our bikes to check the new bike road, still unfinished, and we ride until the next village, four kilometers away. There we get lost on their streets, if something like that is possible, and end up finding an old church and some interesting houses before, as planned, reaching the green domes of the natural gas factory, a milestone on the way back home. I chat with him during the whole trip, about what he will do when he’s old, about the country, about what kind of car he will buy, what is to buy and what is to rent, and another hundred things. My son learned biking literally a couple of months ago, and he’s good, but he is not yet aware of how much he can bike. So an encouragement is needed, just a little, and I find it on a closeby italian ice cream shop, a Gelateria Italiana, where he takes a Nutella ice cone and I take a small beer. And it’s getting hot.
The last five hundred meters are not at all complicated after that break. The plan we agreed was, at home, to move out to our terrace the brand new electric grill and grill some things: chicken filets, chorizo, bacon, asparagus, sweet potatoes…mama and his brother will join. And that we do. And everything is fine, and delicious. In the meantime, it’s getting hotter, and I’m getting sleepy after the last beer. What now? Mama propose to lay on the grass, just outside the building, just outside the terrace. I will stay on the balcony, reading, acting as a connection with the inside. Both brothers happily join, and they bring books and toys. A lovely picnic after the barbecue.
The day is anyway very long, and there’s nothing else to do, so after the siesta we all take our bikes and ride on the opposite direction I biked in the morning. There are parks after parks, and the light is having the komorebi quality most of the time. But where do we go now? How about having dinner in that restaurant close to where mama was living when she was single? Yes, the restaurant that changed the name. How was it called before? It doesn’t matter, what matters is that is far enough, and we will be hungry when we arrive. There is a risk: the risk that the place is full. Today is a first of May, after all, and it’s a holiday and it’s in the middle of a working week. But it’s OK, we are lucky and the food is exquisite. Also the conversation. We speak about that time in Milano where we ate in a restaurant where the lemoncello was literally for free… and I ate that very delicious dish, spaghetti with ricci di mare. A place to come back. Ten years ago. I can’t believe nothing is going wrong today. Or is it me only?
I wrote it down because I almost took no pictures today, and I somehow wanted to remember it. Just a perfect day.