I love English seasides. The grey skies, the grey sea. The wind. The cold. The long, wide stretches of sand. The rugged, weathered cliffs. But it’s atmospheric. Good for contemplating and appearing to be artistic. That’s what I tell my Italian friends who fail to appreciate such delights. Usually, it’s not possible to recreate the English beach experience in Rome, but yesterday I managed it. Drinks at a beach front cafe, watching the grey waves crash into the shore through rain steamed windows. Perfect. And then the sun came out.