Italy’s Red Zone is like living in Dante’s Comedy; heaven meets hell on a daily basis. It’s still Italy, but everything’s closed.

Much of Italy is red, a few regions orange, and Sardinia was white, for a time, but only Sardinia could pull that off; Sardinia is like the one-off of Italy.

So there I was, cycling home, getting ready to turn right towards the lake, where we live, past the place that is always packed, serving the finest gelato on the planet. No matter how healthy the cyclist, they all stop here.

Suddenly I was terribly depressed. A hedonist, I dearly miss this pleasure. Yet within in that minute, of self-pity and deep sadness, I notice three bikes in front of me tilt dramatically to the right, skid up to the sidewalk and park without bothering to lock up.

There’s our mecca, large, welcoming windows slid wide open, the beautiful Italian girl standing tall, wearing her white cap, ready to take our orders. She is so beautiful and those colors whipped up just so, below – this does restore the faith!

Take away, ok, but

God Bless Italy

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