The real life of Roman summer nights

Seattle Times Travel editor Terry Tazioli is off to Rome for a while, on his annual quest for good food, good wine, good friends and a new Italian verb form or two.

To be able to spend an evening like this is why I travel.

Three of us sat for a long time at a makeshift bar along the Tiber River that runs through Rome, talking. We'd been out walking earlier through Trastevere (one of Rome's original working-class neighborhoods) with a teacher from the Italian-language school we attend. He was giving us yet another history lesson.

We are from three very different places — Poland, Scotland and the United States.

The one language all three of us have in common is Italian.

And with that language, we talked about our lives, music, movies, our friends, our families, our jobs, what the dickens we're doing in Rome, our studies (we're all in school here together). Our futures.

Imagine that, just for a minute. Imagine talking with someone who lives half way around the world from you, in a language that's not your native tongue and being able to understand, and be understood.

No particular offense intended, but you really don't get that by sitting on tours buses or talking to taxi drivers. That doesn't count.

As I listened to my comrades talk, I kept thinking whether I could simplify my life in order to do this more often — or perhaps all the time. Could I change my goals and my ideas or what's important and what's not. Could I really get to the point where the small stuff didn't matter?

In summer, the broad paved banks of the Tiber house several temporary bars and restaurants, stages and booths whose proprietors are selling everything from clothes to art. At night, the banks can teem with people and music. There's even a temporary swimming pool along the paved banks near Castel Sant'Angelo and the Vatican.

I took a couple photos of that the other day until I realized that smack in the middle of my lens were two topless women. Okay — that would fly in Europe. In Seattle, well, we're just not ready for such things, are weFor a city that many say simply shuts down in August, when Italians traditionally take their holidays, Rome has a lot going on.

The river teems but so do all the usual tourist spots. It's wall-to-wall people in Trastevere, at Piazza Navona and at Campo dei Fiori. And if that isn't enough, there are specialty events all over. Try Gay Village, for example, out near the EUR neighborhood, Mussolini's attempt to bring "la forza" (the power) back to this ancient city by constructing monumental buildings which seem to be more monuments to him than anything else.

A gay village. We're talking a huge area, with food and bars and entertainment, usually four nights a week for practically half the summer, and it's packed — and not just with they city's gay residents. Imagine gay pride week, extended. Not sure that would fly in Seattle, either. But here, in the shadow of the Vatican, a stalwart of things anti-gay, it happens.

The other night, a couple of us spent a few hours prowling through Castel Sant'Angelo, a huge and ancient fortress on the banks of the Tiber, which currently is housing Notti Animate, a many-week celebration of the arts. Imagine a huge old fortress packed with entertainment, sort of like a confined, mini Bumbershoot. Bands, dancing, singing, puppet shows, rooms of art and jewelry, kids play areas, tours, bars, food. We left just before 1 a.m. and there will still tours going on, the place was still packed and the kids' room was still full.

Did that register? 1 a.m.

Imagine that on a Seattle weekend.