There are many things I will never understand about estate agents and their strange opinions. Why are places high up in tall buildings (like the famous New York ‘walk up’) cheaper than an equivalent place lower down? Clearly being high is best. What is so darned great about having ‘your own front door’ (what’s their problem with hallways?). Then there’s that sheepish look they have when they have to tell you that the flat you’re interested in is, oh grievous sins, above a shop.
Well in Rome we lived above a gelateria and it is the best place we ever lived. Gelato, which previously in my mind, was sort of mid afternoon thing, effortlessly became a morning thing, a midnight snack thing, a liquid lunch thing, a flexible friend. Jason once purchased in his pyjamas and I frequently purchased in order to breastfeed on the parkbench opposite. In fact there was something pleasingly Heath Robinson like about pouring gelato into me so that I could in turn pour milk into Sorrel.
That’s all really. Gelato is about action not words. If you are ever lucky enough to chance upon a gelateria that does real pink grapefruit, rent the flat upstairs.
