‘I’ll speak to the massive man and see what he can do,’ says Andrea, our concierge.
We had been discussing the climate, so I’m a little bit confused. As we’re in Rome’s Portrait Roma (previously Portrait Suites), a glossy, modern townhouse resort owned by iconic Italian shoe designer Ferragamo, I assume, at first, he means Signor Salvatore himself.
However then I realise, as he died in 1960, that specific ‘large man’ hasn’t been making choices about mattress linen and toiletries for some time.
Having simply flown from gray, drizzly London to the everlasting metropolis, we’re upset to find the forecast for the following few days isn’t good. I visualise bruise-coloured clouds hanging ominously over piazzas and palazzos, and might’t assist however want for a little bit divine intervention, too.
Located above Ferragamo’s flagship retailer, Portrait Roma occupies a sublime constructing, simply minutes from the Spanish Steps and the style thoroughfares of Vias Condotti, Borgognona and Frattina.
We couldn’t be nearer to the motion. Certainly, Mr Smith and I are even given a Ferragamo lookbook to flick via whereas Andrea makes our dinner reservations. Solely in Italy…
The dedication to fashion continues inside. On the best way to our room, we climb a staircase lined with black-and-white pictures and sketches, all with a shoe theme; and smouldering portraits of old-Hollywood glamour women.
Our simple-but-luxurious room is equally stylish. It has stunning black-wood partitions, complemented by a gray color scheme that permits the occasional shiny pop of lime inexperienced in surprising locations such because the curtain lining. And there’s a stunning window seat overlooking the gorgeous, yellow Hermès retailer on the opposite aspect of By way of Condotti – it’s the perfect place to curve up with an early morning espresso or late-evening prosecco.
Mr Smith and I spend a pleasant couple of hours lounging on the big Roman emperor-sized mattress – there’s sufficient room in there for the a number of generations of a whole Italian household – and watching the large flatscreen TV.
Mr Smith significantly enjoys poking across the in-room kitchen however, alas, refuses to rise to my problem to whip us up a fast gnocchi alla Romana. It’s so peaceable. Although we will hear hints of the bustle on By way of Condotti beneath, all that changing-room swishing and credit-card swiping at avenue degree appears a good distance away.
We lastly rouse ourselves to bathe and dress for the night – me in a navy 3.1 Phillip Lim sweater and denims, and Mr Smith in a shirt and white linen trousers – and, after a lot giggly pouting into the free-standing, fashionista-friendly mirror, we’re prepared to go out and start our personal Roman holiday.
Impressed by {a photograph} of a surprising pair of heels on the wall, I determine to put on my new six-inch Louboutins. However, oh, how unforgiving cobblestone streets will be to stiletto-clad ft. Regardless of the very fact I’m clinging onto Mr Smith’s arm, the stones on the By way of della Tempo almost declare my dignity just a few occasions.
I ultimately persuade him to set me down outdoors a close-by trattoria, the place we take pleasure in scrumptious artichoke antipasti, fantastic pasta with bacon, pecorino and extra artichokes, and the type of tiramisu Mr Smith has been looking for his total life.
After a refreshing sleep, we spend the next morning wandering across the huge gardens of the Galleria Borghese, one of many metropolis’s most interesting artwork galleries. They’re stunning. We make our manner alongside wooded avenues to take a seat beside fountains and ornate Renaissance statues, and watch with concern as an aged couple, seated beside a operating observe, shear off their canine’s hair with evident relish. Is that this an try to make him extra aerodynamic?
Afterwards, totally conscious we’re a giant romantic cliché, we rent a ship and row out to the center of a tranquil, terrapin-filled lake. It’s turtle bliss.
We get pleasure from a hearty lunch of purple lentil soup with creamy goat’s cheese adopted by a rigatoni amatriciana that bursts with recent tomato and white wine flavours at Cul de Sac, a captivating restaurant on a aspect avenue off Piazza Navona.
Mr Smith, a gifted prepare dinner in my eyes, mournfully declares he’ll by no means have the ability to match the culinary artistry earlier than him. I counsel we come again to Rome just a few extra occasions within the identify of analysis – that manner, he’ll have the ability to good his expertise. To be trustworthy, although, I’m now in search of any excuse to return to this stunning, atmospheric metropolis.
We return to Portrait Roma with bellies full and the style of recent tomatoes nonetheless on our lips, and climb to the roof terrace. It’s one of many resort’s largest attracts. On one aspect we will see the Villa Medici and the Spanish Steps, whereas, on one other, now we have an uninterrupted view of the hideous Vittoriano – scathingly referred to as ‘the marriage cake’ by locals.
To the south-east, the domes of St Peter and the Vatican are ascending heavenwards. Extra charming than any of those, although, are the tiny rooftop gardens the residents of Rome have cultivated amid the spires and pinnacles.
The solar is setting, and the heady mixture of yellows, browns and oranges, bathed in that heavy night gentle, is simply breathtaking. ‘We have to begin taking extra mini-breaks,’ says Mr Smith as he reclines in a deckchair. I couldn’t agree extra.
The subsequent morning, we lastly make it contained in the Galleria Borghese, the place each Mr Smith and I are surprised into uncharacteristic silence by the sheer dynamism of Bernini’s 4 sculptures. Afterwards, we head to Piazza Navona for a remaining ice cream.
We sit on a bench and savour our final hours. However, for now, the skies are blue and the solar warms my upturned face, its warmth seeping down into my physique. The massive man has positively come via for us.
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Bee Carrozzini, whose actual identify is Katherine, has visited a number of the furthest flung corners of the globe. She is a profitable theatre producer with latest Broadway titles like Parade and Gutenberg! The Musical! to her identify.
