Gelato Run
After an early dinner, last night, D and I found ourselves sitting on our balcony on a perfect summer evening, confused by the fact that it was not even 8 pm. “The evening is still young, we should be doing something”, I said. We wondered about the regular routes for our evening walks, yet, none sounded intriguing enough. We wondered if we should go to the lake, but both of us didn’t feel like swimming. Finally, we decided to go for an ice cream run. It might sound strange, but it is we had never really done before.
A few minutes later, we walk down the hill, across the still busy Bahnhofstrasse, and take some detours through the streets of Kreis 4. It’s a lot warmer in the city center, fewer trees, more concrete, and buildings blocking the fresh breeze that blew through our street all day long. At the ice cream shop, there is a queue – mostly adults – studying the long list of flavors before stepping into the shop. The two women behind the counter are busy scooping ice cream into cornets and cups, both with a big warm smile on their faces, happy to serve people a sweet after-dinner treat. At this place, you always get a “Probiererli” – a little extra scoop – that they put on top of the flavors you selected. A small gesture that makes everyone extra happy.
I pick pistachio, strawberry, and a tiny taste of “Fior di latte” that has been colored in bright blue. Back when I was a kid we called this Smurf gelato, here it’s called “unicorn”. It tastes like a childhood vacation in Italy. We sit outside, spooning our ice cream, taking turns tasting the flavors each of us picked. D has a scoop of dark chocolate. The best ice cream he ever had, he proclaims – and it is delicious. We sit there and watch someone with four cones of ice cream leaving the shop – to supply some loved ones or to eat them all by themselves, we won’t know. But they looked very excited. Everyone here seems to be; friends meeting, dates, couples, chance encounters of acquaintances. “Are ice cream parlors the ultimate place of happiness?” I wonder to myself.
Later we walk back home, over the new pedestrian bridge across the train tracks. We catch a last glimpse of the sundown. Then the streetlights are turned on, marking the official end of the day. We walk up the hill with ease, deep in conversation. What a nice ritual this could become, I think as we sit on the sofa later. D is reading, I edit a picture of the sundown I took standing on that bridge. A bit later, I go to bed, with our little gelato run as the main moment of the day – and what a good and simple one it is.
