Almost Tropical

The humidity hangs in the air like a heavy, suffocating coat. You wake up feeling hungover even though you had nothing to drink the night before. Your joints ache and you start to wonder if maybe your dinner last night had been poisoned somehow.

You get up, go through the motions like every other day. Willing yourself on. So much so that you forget to look out the window and up at the sky.

As you sit having breakfast, the first sign that catches your attention is when the lights flicker almost imperceptibly. You've seen and felt all the signs before, but as usual the heat and humidity, combined with the commitments of everyday life, distract you.

You leave the house, uplifted as always by the stillness of the morning air. Only this time the stillness is yet another warning that you fail to notice.

A giant drop of something wet lands directly on your head. Never a pleasant experience in the old city - it could be anything. You look up, scowling, hoping to catch the culprit as he silently retreats into his window (or nest).

That's when you notice that the sky is not its usual bright blue. It's dark, almost black. At that moment the next drop hits you square on the forehead, and you understand just as the heavens open and a wall of water hits the city from above.

Like so many scared  animals, people dash for cover. You notice people in Bermuda shorts and sandals already soaked from head to toe.

The force of the rain is so strong, gutters and drainpipes fail to do their job and turn into miniature fountains. Hitting horizontal surfaces, the water bounces right back up again, creating an interesting two-way rain effect.

Like many of the other people who live here, you do your best to avoid getting completely soaked by sticking to the upwind side of the street or piazza. It's no use, of course, but you'll at least be able to fool yourself that it could have been worse.

As fast as possible, you make your way to the portico near the waterfront. Here, you can finally stand, relatively sheltered, and absorb the massive energy of the storm. You just stand there for a while in the crowded shelter. About ten people ask you if you want to buy an umbrella. Everyone and everything seems alive, vibrating.

Then, after a while, just as  quickly as it started, it stops. The air is cool - frizzante they say here (like mineral water - sparkling). In ten or twenty minutes time the sky will have turned completely blue again. The sun will be as hot as ever. But just for  today, in the shade it will be refreshing and the air will be less sticky and humid.

The city has had a well-needed wash. People who have been soaked through to the bone stand there and smile, refreshed, and quickly drying off in the morning sun.

And you continue on your way, all aches and groggy feelings finally gone.