#BOLOGNA

[allthingseurope]

Bologna, Italy (by Salmen)

[livesunique]

"Grotta del Ninfeo"

Villa Guastavillani, Monte di Barbiano, Bologna, Italy,

Silvia Camporesi Photography

[jeffurlan]

Bologna, Emilia-Romagna, Italy 🇮🇹

📸 @elena__aileen

[fallimentiquotidiani]

[ancientsstudies]

Basilica di Santo Stefano by riccardob_ph.

[goldsbitch]

That one Bologna drive

part 2 to That one Christmas flight (strongly recommend reading that one first! made me so happy you guys liked this one, so let's continue!)

summary: They were suppose to not look for each other. So of course they didn't.

warnings: crushing hard, swear words I guess, typos probably

PS: y'all gonna hate me

Lando really wanted to keep his promise not to search for her online. He enjoyed the mystery and the option to keep this little encounter as a nice "why if". Until he didn't.

With the only information he had being her first name and the fact she was a student at Bologna university his private burner account was truly burning up. He must have seen every account of the current Bologna alumni. It was strange being on the other side of these pseudo stalker fan games. There were moments where he deactivated his account, to stop him from doomscrolling. And then there were nights when he did nothing but that.

He was fed up with the emptiness and shallow lifestyle that followed him. His friends were surprised, when he started to carry classical literature books with him. Since he hated those looks, decision to really keep all of this to himself had been made. It felt like a pose sometimes - he did not have to prove anything to anyone, he was fine as he was. But a strange feeling of wanting something more is hard to navigate when the life around you seems dead set in the current ways.

Weeks passed by with his eyes fixed on one moment in particular. The Imola Grand Prix. It felt like a cruel joke when he realized this circuit was a mere hour away from Bologna.

Lando was not sure if he was supposed to be proud or scared when finally found her account. At this point, it was hard to find a better expert on the social life of that university town. But it would be a massive lie, if he said he did not sprint up from his chair when he saw her in one of her friends insta story. Tagged.

He nearly DM'd her about 20 times. But, this was not the way it was supposed to feel. No. It seemed like a way better plan to ride up to Bologna and hang out at what seemed to be her favorite cafe / bar in the centre. If it was meant to be, he would run into her and it could all be called a second lucky accident.

He had an average start of the season. Maybe Imola would bring him luck one way or the other.

//

His plan was to ride up there the evening after his first practice - then the team debrief dragged until late hours. He hit the wall on the second day - his team made sure he went through all and every medical check up, no matter how much he protested. Then there was this and than that and suddenly he realized the only possible evening would be the Sunday one. He requested the latest flight him team would allow.

Finishing fourth felt like a joke, even though it was his best finish this season. Missing the podium by a mere second was a cruel of a metaphor.

Once he managed to run through all his duties, exhausted as truly was, he hit the road.

Within a half an hour, he was in what seemed her most favorite cafe, sitting on a bar stool, ordering a glass of white wine.

She was nowhere to be found. His heart jumped when her friends came in and sat outside, lighting their cigarettes. Lando waited. He had to laugh at himself, pathetic as he was right now. By his luck lately, she was probably in her bedroom sleeping, or worse - on a date with some Italian fuck boy. Going up to her friends and asking was absolutely not an option - he wanted to surprise her, not scare her and creep her out.

He left the bar after one hour for a stroll around. He walked around the lively square filled with young people sitting on the ground and having the time of their life, the one he saw hundreds of times on his screen. Who knew, maybe she'd be around somewhere. Jealousy swept over him, envying those who were fortunate enough to keep her company right now at this very moment. After one hour he was back for a second glass. But this time he heard his name being called loudly immediately as he stepped inside. All of his tired muscles tensed up in disbelief. And to continue with the theme of pure luck - it was an ordinary fan. The surprised guy with a Mercedes t-shirt insisted on a photo and signature. Lando smiled, signed and went back to his car.

He probably needed this closure.

//

Y/N was a person who prided herself on her principles. So when she and the mystery boy from that Christmas flight agreed upon not looking each other up, she kept herself away from doing so. Exam season and university life got in the way, providing a great distraction.

Only when she went on a date with what seemed to be a lovely French physics student, she allowed herself to think back to her encounter with Lando. That's when her internal facade fell apart. She spent the whole date imagining Lando would appear. He'd sit at a different table, right in her view, and then once her date would go on the toilet, they'd run away like little kids would do. They'd sit in a local park and laugh while sharing a bottle of wine. She knew he was somehow famous. He heart crushed at the thought that she was probably overshadowed by girls way prettier than her.

And then, on a random afternoon during a first study session the weather allowed her and her friends to spend outside, in one of the university gardens, one simple conversation she accidentaly overheard from the people sitting nearby, caused her to loose the last chance of keeping the meeting with Lando intact.

"Yeah, Lando Norris. Way hotter than Leclerc, I must say."

"I still don't understand why you love formula 1."

"They just know how to sell the story."

Surely, they were not talking about Lando. "Sure, there must be thousands of well known people called Lando," Y/N replied to her own question.

She took this as a sign, gave up on her principles and went full ballistic on her research. Downforce, penalties, the teams history, qualifying, chequered flag.

Since she was so deep in, keeping her obsession to herself as she had no idea with whom she could possibly share this, she might as well ask her mom for tickets money. The idea that she knew that he was just an hour away and she would miss that was simply not on the table.

Formula 1 race in an event meant for groups of friends to share their passion. So sitting there on the stand alone felt a little bittersweet. She made sure to push down any thoughts about seeing him up close again, let alone talking to him. It was something that half of the people present would try to do. And risking having him look through her, or worse - not remembering her - was not something she wished to live through.

But she cheered for him, she really did. Anytime he passed around her stand she got up, she watched him on the screen during interviews and when it became clear, he would have his best result of the season so far here at Imola, she celebrated with all those around her. Feeling proud that he was doing good. There was an electrifying energy in the air which could not compare to the times she watched races in her room on her laptop. If he had been standing near to her, she knew he would say something to beat himself up for missing a podium. And if she was standing next to him, she would tell him that he is an idiot and should also celebrate.

He looked a bit off during the interviews. Probably the crash few days ago. Y/N stayed sitting there just a bit longer than an average fan would.

Probably to avoid traffic...

part 3

______________________________________________________

Tagged all those who like to suffer: @prudyhoo @anuksunamon @sagestack @esquerkaren @ushygushybaby @superlegend216

[kropotkindersurprise]

November 9, 2024 - Antifascists in Bologna, Italy, clashed with riot police who were protecting the fascist groups CasaPound and Rete dei patrioti who were holding a fascist demo nearby. [video]

[vintageeurope]

Bologna, Italy 1880

[mapsontheweb]

Bologna (Italy) - shaded relief of a 1890 map of the city

[allthingseurope]

Bologna, Italy (by dras)

[livesunique]

Rocchetta Mattei, Savignano, Grizzana Morandi, Bologna, Italy

[guardedserum]

Ponyboy eating those bologna sandwiches.

[fallimentiquotidiani]

Irvine Welsh (scrittore di Trainspotting) con la t-shirt "The book was better"

[musicandotherstuff]

Alex Turner - I Days Bologna, Italy 2011

📸: Henry Ruggeri

[miamaimania]

Entwined in Time ➤ Relation in Time, 1977

[ginogirolimoni]

Non so chi ha autorizzato la manifestazione dei patrioti di Casa Pound a Bologna. Dire che ciascuno ha diritto di manifestare in casi come questi è come dire che il fiammifero è libero di accendersi in un lago di benzina.

O abbiamo a che fare con emeriti imbecilli, oppure chi ha autorizzato tutto questo l’ha fatto perché sapeva come sarebbe andata a finire e voleva che finisse così, per poter dire quello che i fascisti in politica, che purtroppo hanno il potere in Italia, stanno dicendo su giornali e su televisione fascio-friendly.

Ecco la sinistra dicono, ecco i centri sociali, non rispettano la libertà altrui, sono violenti, ecco quello che succederebbe se andassero al governo, cercando di dimenticare e far dimenticare che tutto questo avviene però durante il loro governo.

Non riescono a frenare il loro odio, la battuta sarcastica (seppure stantia e sempre la stessa, come le barzellette di Berlusconi), per sfogare il loro senso di inferiorità, per distrarre le masse dai problemi che non riescono a risolvere oppure, semplicemente, perché vogliono apparire le vittime e non i carnefici, come già Hitler (leggete il Mein Kampf) e come Netanyhau.

Questi cialtroni al governo non hanno alcuna cultura istituzionale, nessun senso dello Stato, solo il senso del branco: sei dei nostri? Allora puoi fare e dire ciò che ti pare. Non stai con noi? Allora sei un nemico da combattere, da irridere, da svilire, da sminuire, da sfottere e da abbattere … con ogni mezzo.

Il fascismo crea nemici ovunque, ha bisogno di nemici per esistere, crea spaccature, crea guerre civili, non sa cosa sia la pace e sguazza nell’eterno conflitto.