The slight downsides…

There aren’t many. Life in Rome, I found almost overwhelmingly fantastic. The pace of life wasn’t too frenetic, the surroundings and general scenery were stunningly beautiful or shabbily and romantically weathered, while the quality of eating and drinking was unerringly high. So, not so many downsides really. But two stand out.

Firstly, the noise. Italians are loud. Really loud. Voluble, garrulous, chatty, enthusiastically talkative…they love to gab. And they particularly loved to gab outside my bedroom window. At 2am. Almost every night. It seems that, far from chucking out time acting like a dispersant on most crowds of people who’d just spent 5 hours talking to each other in a pub, bar or cafe, it acted as a kind of minor disruption to their evening. They just carried on their conversations standing outside the pub, bar, or cafe. Of which there was one of each opposite our flat.

The soundproofing in our building, as I’ve already said, was negligible, but in my room, sounds reverberated to the point of comedy. More than once I woke up thinking there were people in the room with me, rather than down one flight of stairs and across the road. I could hear every word. And they went on, and on, and on…..

Another curious Italian habit I discovered when I visited a cinema, during my first week there. Actually, it would be unfair to call it an Italian habit. But maybe not. Most Italian men, after all, still live at home; maybe it gets harder and harder for the middle-aged Mummy’s boy to find some ‘alone time’ in which to get a little, er, satisfaction…because in this case, it took place in the cinema.

Yes, I’d innocently taken my seat a couple of places away from a respectable looking older couple, when on my other side, I noticed a 50-something bloke come in and sit down two seats away from me. I thought nothing of it - until the first scene of the film came on. I’d gone to see Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead (or Onora La Madre e Il Padre, as it was rather snappily retitled in Italian), which stars Ethan Hawke, Philip Seymour Hoffman and Marisa Tomei. Now, Marisa looks HOT in this film. Hell, even I fancied her. But the first scene is graphically arousing, as it features her being taken quite firmly from behind by the aforementioned Hoffman.

The first I knew of the 50-something man’s intentions was when I could hear his breathing get just that little bit heavier. And faster. Followed shortly by the sound of a belt unbuckling. Oh, I think you know where this is going….and go, it did, on and on and on and on and ON. For hours. With variations in velocity and rhythm, with changes of hand, with rises and falls in volume, with that hideous slapslapslapping sound that is just totally unmistakeable, and just with general hideousness. I lost all concentration on the film (which was dubbed into Italian anyway) as I couldn’t help but see his frenzied arm movements out of the corner of my eye (thankfully I managed to avoid seeing anything else).

I’m not joking, this went on relentlessly for one hour and twenty-five minutes. I know this, because the film lasted for an hour and forty. Yes, with only fifteen minutes to go, he finally climaxed, buckled up, and shuffled out. There were many, many moments throughout the film (which looked like it could have been quite good; I may have to get it out on DVD) where I just wanted to turn around and shout, ‘for God’s sake, just COME already!!’ but my Italian - by that point at any rate - wasn’t quite that advanced. Though I have learned to say this now, just to be prepared for any eventuality.