What August Actually Feels Like in Italy

Do not think of August as another June, only hotter. That is not what August is in Italy.

By 2:30, it can seem like a street in Rome has been cleared, and only the tourists remain.

Everyone’s shutters are down, and the pavement hurts to look at. A delivery van has taken the shade and two people are standing under a balcony trying to comprehend the closure of a restaurant where they made a reservation 6 months in advance.

There is a handwritten note in the window:

CHIUSO PER FERIE

DAL 10 AL 25 AGOSTO

Holidays. It’s closed. They didn’t leave an apology or a note saying they’ll be back better than ever. The family went on holiday and we can’t eat dinner.

If you return at 10:30, there are tables outside and the waiters are struggling to walk between them with about a million glasses. The kids are eating ice cream and look like they put on their “going out” clothes right before they came out. The dogs are under the chairs, sleeping.

You can tell the city isn’t deserted. August isn’t about time, it’s about perspective.

The city takes a holiday. The city moves to the beach, the mountains, the lakes or anywhere outside of the city. Parts of the Ligurian coast become the new Milans and everyone takes their parents, children and beach gear.

A street in Bologna might be sleepy, while a nearby museum has a line out the door. A bakery can close for the entire two weeks of vacation, while the restaurant in the main square has a line out the door.

This is the issue with all the normal descriptions of August.

“Everything closes” doesn’t hit the mark.

“Everything is crowded” is equally wrong.

The issue is that within a five-minute walk, both of these can be true at the same time.

Service can be notoriously bad in August. Your favorite restaurant may not even be available while everyone is scrambling to get into your second choice.

Italian beaches in August likely do not resemble those empty strips of sand designed for ads. They are actually furnished pretty nicely, with a few living room essentials brought by the public.

Families will bring their foldable chairs, coolers, inflatable animals, cards, and tons of towels. They will set up their little republic on the beach. There are always grandparents who go and sit under umbrellas and read newspapers, and children always make friends with the kids who are a row or two away.

There is always watermelon and various other lunches brought by families. It is very common for families to be crowded together. However, no one seems to notice or care that it is busy.

Everyone showers and gets changed later to walk the promenade. The passeggiata is not a later-evening option during the holiday. It is the purpose the day centers around.

There is a different rhythm to the inland towns.

By 4, it can look pretty deserted, with everything essentially closed. The heat radiates off the stone, and even the birds seem to be reconsidering things.

By 9, the square has an arrangement of plastic chairs scattered about. Church bells ring and tables are joined. A local concert or a food fest can be found, or just a family of eight having dinner in the half-blocked street.

The worst of the heat can wipe out the middle of the day, hindering even short sightseeing breaks.

Every traffic light will have you waiting in the hot sun. Your appetite disappears as your water bottle becomes a “Hot Water” bottle. The sun bakes everything around you, and the shade feels only a few degrees cooler than the air.

Heat derails many people’s August plans. If only the sun were as gentle as it is in April.

Crossing three neighbourhoods and four museums may look trivial on a map. But maps have no way of showing the moments when the air stops moving, the endless, sun-drenched queues, and the realization that all the churches are closed for the afternoon.

Leave the day intentionally unplanned.

An early morning walk is refreshing. Arrive at your destination before the shops and cafes are open. Enjoy a leisurely lunch. Break the day by going to a church, museum, or your hotel room. Read. Sleep. Do as little as you want without feeling the day is wasted.

Leave your lodging again after 7.

A 7 o’clock dinner becomes a late lunch in August. The piazzas fill by 9:30, as the silence of the day is broken by the clatter of cutlery and the warmth of the stones.

Ferragosto falls on 15 August, but families schedule vacations around it. There is a mass exodus to the coast, and towns host their own parades and concerts. Some businesses close for a full week or more around this holiday.

Ferragosto marks the peak of suspended routines.

In the large cities, conducting business in August is highly inconvenient. The coast becomes an even more crowded version of Italy.

The atmosphere changes again as you approach the end of August.

Some shutters rise again. Cars return from the beach covered in bags, towels, and sand that will remain in the boot until October. The light changes. The afternoons are still hot and dinner still happens later than one would expect.

There is a wearied feeling to the end of the month. Not an unhappy one. It is the feeling of those trying to get one final week of summer in before the regular schedule begins.

August is not the most accommodating month for someone trying to schedule a tightly timed itinerary. August has little patience for someone trying to control every second of the month.

But August is accommodating for people who can see the life in the country while it is busy.

At 10:30, one can see a scooter pass at the end of an empty street. Somewhere around a corner, a bell rings to signal the time has come. In the piazza, a child crosses with a gelato that is still dissolving.

Meanwhile, the restaurant is adding one more table to the dining area.

Here’s to slow afternoons and very late dinners.
Cheers,
Maria
📍 Rome