Weekly blog #124: A special friendship in Rome

I don’t think that much explanation is needed when I say that Italy has been on quite a roll over the past year. After overcoming the pandemic one step at a time, the country has enjoyed one success after another. First, there was the victory at the Eurovision Song Contest in Rotterdam, then Italy won the European Football Championship after the most nerve-racking penalty series, never before did Italy win more medals than at the Olympic Games in 2021, and this past week, another great achievement followed. After seven long years of waiting, Italy finally managed to win a match in the prestigious Six Nations championship. 

I bet you wouldn’t have pegged me as a rugby fan, which is entirely true. So where did this sudden interest in rugby come from six years ago? 

The what? Being Dutch, I had never heard of the Six Nations while growing up. I first became acquainted with the championship in the spring of 2016, during my study year in Rome. The Six Nations Championship is the biggest and most important rugby tournament in the northern hemisphere, and the participating countries are England, Ireland, Scotland, Wales, France and Italy. Rugby probably wasn’t the first thing you’d associate Italy with, yet Italy is one of the biggest rugby countries. They have never won the championship however, but after losing every single game since 2015, they finally managed to turn the tide last week. With the very last action and only one point difference, Wales was defeated. Now I bet you wouldn’t have pegged me as a rugby fan, which is entirely true. So where did this sudden interest in rugby come from six years ago? 

When Scotland played the Six Nations match against Italy on a, for Roman standards unusually drizzly Saturday afternoon in March, we ducked into the only Scottish bar in Rome

That was all to do with my dear friend Sara, with whom I was inseparable all year. Having grown up in Glasgow, rugby was to her what football is to the Dutch. When Scotland played the Six Nations match against Italy on a, for Roman standards unusually drizzly Saturday afternoon in March, we ducked into the only Scottish bar in Rome. But with an Italian father and a Scottish mother, it wasn’t obvious yet which team Sara was going to support. In the end, Scotland won, which made for a very enjoyable evening. The whole city was buzzing with Scottish fans, all dressed in their kilt, celebrating the victory with lots of beer, loud singing and silly jokes. And the Romans? They could only laugh at the Scottish gentlemen and be amazed about the fact that they were walking around with bare legs under their kilt on that cold day in March.

We introduced ourselves, started chatting and basically never stopped. From that dinner on, we were inseparable

At the time of that match, I had been best friends with Sara for six months. In the late summer of 2015, we met at a trattoria in Ariccia, a picturesque village near Rome. The student association of the Roman University – where we had both just started our exchange year – had organised a dinner for all international students that night. By pure chance, we sat next to each other on the long wooden benches. We introduced ourselves, started chatting and basically never stopped. From that dinner on, we were inseparable.

We stayed with her Italian aunt and went out with her nonna, who made a not-so-subtle attempt to impress the local police officers by showing us off

We usually started our days with a coffee in the sun at the university bar, about half an hour before classes began. In the weekends, we made trips to Bologna and Barga, the village in the Tuscan mountains where Sara’s family is from. We stayed with her Italian aunt and went out with her nonna, who made a not-so-subtle attempt to impress the local police officers by showing us off, which caused great hilarity among the bystanders. After our last exams in July, we took a plane to Puglia, in the south of Italy, where we enjoyed five days of sun, sea, and very good food.

We said goodbye, and we would meet again in Rome in March 2020. But we all know what happened that month

When the year in Rome was drawing to a close, and I was returning to the Netherlands and Sara to Scotland, we promised to visit each other at least once or twice a year. And so we did. A few months later, in November, I found myself at her front door in Glasgow on a Thursday evening just before midnight. It was the weekend of her birthday and together with her mother I had planned this surprise visit. Six months later, she came to the Netherlands to celebrate Easter with my family. In that same year, 2017, I attended her graduation in Glasgow in June and we visited another dear friend in Milan in October. In 2018, I was in Scotland again and the two of us went to Tenerife for five days. In 2019, just before I quit my job and left for Naples, I made a stop in Glasgow for our annual summer reunion in Scotland, which had become a tradition by then. We said goodbye, and we would meet again in Rome in March 2020. But we all know what happened that month. Life came to a standstill and the entire world closed down. We decided to move our meetup to October of that year, but the travel restrictions remained, and new lockdowns followed. And before we even realised it, more than two and a half years passed. But now, finally, the time has come.

I’m full of ideas about where we are going and what we are going to do, and as always, I will tell you all about it in the next blog

Friday afternoon around two o’clock Sara will arrive in Rome for a long-overdue girls’ weekend full of new adventures in which we will probably not be quiet for even a second. Of course, I’m full of ideas about where we are going and what we are going to do, and as always, I will tell you all about it in the next blog. I am counting down the days.

See you next week!