Via Commerciale in the ’60

Reading Time: 3 minutes

by Rita Siligato

Back then, everyone walked a lot. On a Sunday, when the men were at home off from work – “Why the men?”, asked Redenta every Sunday. “I’ve been working all week, too!” – they went all together to eat out in the beautiful osteria with the wisteria pergola in via Commerciale, up on the hill.

They walked all the way up in the summer heat, from Cavana to the osteria. The first time Nella was in Trieste with the kids, Rachele, Duncane and The Professor huffed and puffed with every single step climbing uphill. 

“Mama, it is too hot to walk! Mama, Jasper needs a rest! Mama, I have a pebble in my sandal!”

Jasper could not look around because his glasses were fogged. The steep climb was too much for a three-year-old boy. Aunt Marina was pushing Giuliana’s pram, a huge dark blue baby carriage that looked as if it was made for an enormous child.

“Mama, may Jasper sit with Banana inside the pram? There is room for two,” said Rachel, always worrying about her baby brother.

The children used to call their cousin Banana because they could not pronounce the name Giuliana. 

“Marina, do you mind if The Professor sits with Giuliana inside the pram?”

“If you will push it with both of them inside, Nella… I’m sweating, she has not yet turned one and she is very small for her age. Suit yourself,” said Marina, leaving for a moment the handle of the carriage that slid down the hill backwards, in a dangerous way.

After a few days in Trieste Nella was tan and fit, and looked better. She went to the Bagno Lanterna every morning with the children. They had not inherited her complexion: she tanned easily without any walnut oil. Rachel complained of a burning sensation on her shoulders, and the pale faced boys preferred to sit in the shade by the wall, near the Men’s Part of the Bathouse.

Nella looked at her sister: she seemed tired and worn, after the baby. Maybe she got married too young, she thought. And Guerrino was way up the hill with Rudy, Ondina’s husband. You could see him in the distance with his red hair and his cockerel way of walking. They did not worry their wives struggled to keep up with them while carrying their children.

Ondina held her two sons by the hand: “Hurry up, boys! Now walk, Arturo! And you, Antonio!”.

The twins were almost three years old, and they looked like a mismatched couple of dolls. Arturo was small and wiry, with flaming curls and freckles; Antonio was Ondina’s spitting image, a plump toddler with a creamy skin and straight brown hair.

Back then, everybody walked a lot. Going out to eat was a luxury: Mama carried a basket that contained hard boiled eggs, bread, salami and bologna, pickled peppers and cucumbers, and her delicious almond cake. You went out to eat, but in some osterias you could order your drinks and bring your own food.

“And Redenta?”

“Redenta said she will reach us at the osteria,” said Mama, with a snort. “She will come with Dario, go figure!”

The three sisters looked at each other smiling.

“Are they engaged now, mama?”

“Over my dead body, I told you!”, said Mama, breathing heavily because of the climb. “I only gave her the permission to come out with him this one time. She told me he has something to show me, and I am curious.”

Guerrino and Rudy had already disappeared inside the stone arch that led to the osteria: you could smell the heavy wisteria scent of the large pergola. It was six in the evening and from above, turning and looking down the hill, you could see the gulf of Trieste and the sunset on the sea in all its glory.

“Help me with the pram,” said Nella, who was carrying the two sleeping babies inside it. “There is a broken step here, I’m stuck.”

The children ran inside the garden, happy to have reached the goal, while the women stopped to disentangle the small wheels from the breach.

They heard the noise of a motorcycle exhaust and they turned to the street: Dario was driving a shiny silver Vespa, and Redenta was sitting sidesaddle in the back seat. Her hair was matted and her cheeks very red.

Nella said: “You look beautiful, both of you!”

And with a dainty move Redenta jumped off the Vespa, her dress a rainbow of colors. She had a wide grin on her face, that echoed Dario’s. The mirrors of the silver Vespa reflected the red sunset.