Appreciating the Bologna is the home of pasta rather than pizza, I am nonetheless still in Italy and the pizza must be acquired. We find ourselves a place dotted around one of the main squares, hoping for something passable. I order a classic margarita, and it does the job just fine. It’s too big for the plate, the cheese is still molten, and I’m even forced to resort to using a knife and fork. But it’s cheese and tomato and bread and it’s delicious. Alasdair has the worst glass of white wine we’ve each ever tried, and the tiramisu (of course) comes in a plastic tray but it’s still one tiramisu more than I’d have had otherwise, so we move. The playlist is exclusively Radiohead, and not even the popular stuff, which was not an intentional choice on our part but does seem to fit the vibe.