“Will you please move aside there, I can’t see and I tell you I have waited 17 years for this moment and I want to see it well," said the middle aged woman to me.
Outside the Quirinale presidential palace in Rome last night they were getting ready to party. Thousands of people had turned up for arguably the most symbolic moment on an historic day, namely the resignation of Prime Minister Silvio Berlusconi, someone who has dominated Italian political and public life since 1994.
To compare the day to the end of the Franco regime in Spain, or to that of Salazar in Portugal, might be something of an exaggeration, but only a mild one.
Some of the crowd at the Quirinale were merely of the Doubting Thomas variety - they wanted to see him, finally and irrevocably, hand in his cards.
Some were there out of a sense of relief whilst others had clearly come to party, bottles of prosecco in hand ready to pop them just at the moment they received official confirmation that, after a total of 3,336 days at the Italian helm, Mr Berlusconi had indeed resigned.
The protest even had a musical side to it with a couple of Roman choirs, complete with small orchestra, giving several renditions of the Halleluiah Chorus from Handel's Messiah. Yet the majority of those present wanted to express another emotion, namely anger with Mr Berlusconi.
“Mafioso”, “Buffoon” and “Go To Prison” they chanted as the arrival of his car, complete with heavy escort, prompted an avalanche not only of insults but also of coins and even a pair of lady’s knickers.
As the crowd surged forward, it looked for one moment as if the police presence would not be able to contain it. In the end, and with commendable prudence, the police advised Mr Berlusconi to leave the Presidential palace by a side entrance, in the interests of avoiding any further confrontation.
The protestors, however, did not abandon the piazza at that point. Rather, they moved on to Mr Berlusconi's private residence of Palazzo Grazioli, partying in the street outside until 3 in the morning. Throughout the night-long vigil, too, the crowd regularly sang both the Italian national anthem and a series of partisan songs such as Bella Ciao.
If Mr Berlusconi looked out his window last night, he would have seen a series of placards that would not have done much for his already funereal mood. “November 12th, Liberation Day”, “Freedom, Italy Is Free” and “Go Home, Go Home” were just some of the more polite offerings.
Earlier, Mr Berlusconi had experienced just about the only comforting moment on a miserable day when his arrival in the Lower House chamber for yesterday’s debate on the austerity budget prompted an immediate standing ovation from his People of Freedom (PDL) party deputies. As the PDL deputies got to their feet, chanting “Silvio, Silvio” in the manner of football fans, a grim faced Mr Berlusconi raised his arms in thanks.
There was the sense that the chants of “Silvio, Silvio” were a desperate cry from his deputies, many of whom are unlikely to be re-elected at the next election, probably in a year’s time. However, even if his closest supporters dearly want to believe that the 75-year-old media tycoon has not yet left the political stage, many commentators would argue that this time the end has indeed come.
“Today, the final curtain comes down on a long and painful period of Italian political life…” said opposition deputy leader, Dario Franceschini in the opening words of his speech to the Lower House.