To Rome, on business. Above is the view from the Deputy Mayor's office. Then the joy of the expense account stopover. I left the hotel I was staying in near the huge central railway station,
Roma Termini, and had a wander around some back streets. I came across
this trattoria. The walls were covered with framed photographs of the well-fed owner with a series of B list Italian slebs. Perfect.
A smooth, fruit-laden Sangiovese from Tuscany accompanied a bottle of sparkling mineral water and some decent nosh.
I do so enjoy eating alone, especially in large cities away from home. It's the anonymity I think. The pleasure is, of course, doubled when you can claim it back on exes.
