During our Christmas stay in Italy, we spent a few days in
Pizza Pisa, Giacomo’s second home town where he lived ten years for his degrees. It was cold and rainy and free of tourists – by “free” I meant you only got a few herds of people taking pictures here and there, and tables in good restaurants were available if arrived early.
One evening after re-visiting Giacomo’s dormitory where he stayed as a student until a decade ago, we were strolling back towards the hotel in the old town, enveloped in the nostalgic humid air tinted with midnight serenity. That was when we found ourselves in front of the well-lit area where the famous tower resided.
Having seen it multiple times during the day, I was nonetheless stunned by the nightly star. Trees shaped in the Tuscan style appeared in the spotlight as tranced spirits having conversations only audible among them.
While walking around the white giants we found a few students from the same university as Giacomo, probably tipsy in their quiet end-of-semester celebration in front of the tower.