Ciao Roma!

It was in Rome that I really developed an appreciation (and I daresay, a fondness) for Rick Steves. Yes, Mom, I know you're proud. If you don't know, Rick Steves writes travel books designed to help Americans travel like locals, and ever since our family trip in France, Mom quotes him at every opportunity. This is always met with eye-rolling by my sisters and me. Well, now I understand.

He gave us good tips on avoiding lines, dressing appropriately for the Vatican, the history of different sights so we didn't have to pay the extra Euros for a guide, etc. At his suggestion, we started at Palatine and the Collosseum. We met up with Flo's coworker, Leo, who is Brazilian--so there we were: a Brazilian, Belgian, and American holding hands and singing Kum-Ba-Yah together in Italy. Love it. --It was a unique experience to walk in a place that was SO ANCIENT. We imagined all the people for thousands of years who had walked here, touched these ruins, and imagined if they could have envisioned all that passed since then.

(gladiator vs lion)

We were on a roll, on foot, with a map. Unstoppable. At the Trevi fountain we tossed coins and wishes over our shoulders, we admired the Pantheon from the outside because it was closed, we walked along the Tibis River to Trastevere where we sat on the steps of the church eating watermelon wedges, and then we sat down in an alley cafe for lunch. It was the cheapest place we could find which advertised plates of pasta for 5 Euros on the blackboard. The menus they brought to the table, however, advertised 8-10 Euros each. We asked about the 5 Euro options, and they sneered as they directed us over to the blackboard to decide. We felt savvy. When we ordered our drinks, the waiter suggested an appetizer.. caprese salad with tomatoes and fresh buffalo mozarella with basil. We agreed and ate everything heartily. When the bill came, we realized that our caprese salad appetizer cost 12 EUROS. With a $1.67 : 1 Euro exchange rate, that was about $20 for MAYBE 1.5-2 tomatoes and a hunk of mozarella cheese. We did not feel savvy.

The next goal was to find Della Palma, the gelateria that Leo's friend recommended. We asked the first local we saw who scowled as he shook his head and said he didn't know. We then decided we should probably ask someone who was not also selling gelato. Finally we found it, and it was like walking into Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory! There must have been hundreds of gelato flavors winding around the shop like Gaudi's winding park bench in Barcelona. I chose chocolate and coffee and let my spirit float to heaven while I ate them. Piazza Navona was my favorite place in Rome with the fountains and artists. Unfortunately the Four Rivers fountain was under renovation, but our spirits were lifted when a band set up and began to play wonderfully enticing music. Soon a large crowd had formed around them and we rocked out with them as they played their combination jazz, funk, soul, rock on all brass instruments--trumpets, flutes, tubas, saxophones, and drums. There was one woman in the group who played a drum. During a song she stepped forward with a megaphone and began singing Fever. Oooohhhh I had chills--I bought their CD on the spot. Samenakoa -- I also tried to convince them to come to Chicago.

The next day, Saturday, we joined every other tourist in Rome in the line for the Vatican. It turns out that August 15 is a holiday all over Europe celebrating the Virgin's Ascension, and so the Vatican had been closed on Thursday and Friday 8/14-15. 2 hours of telling stories to pass the time, but remaining alert so we didn't get passed by ALL the Asian tourists--I don't mean to stereotype, but the line-forming culture seems to be very different there. There is no respect for you-were-here-first, it's every man for himself and if you snooze, you lose.

The Sistine Chapel was impressive, but an absolute ZOO. There were so many bodies packed into the small space that really all one could do was swivel at the neck. Many of Raphael and Michelangelo's works have been restored in the last several years, so the colors are brilliant. We didn't see the Pope, but we did see John Paul II's tomb in the crypt. St. Peter's Basilica was breath-taking, but also packed. Though from a distance, Michelangelo's Pieta was beautiful. Apparently Mary's foot was wearing away from so many people kissing it, but the whole sculpture is now behind glass.

We needed to spend the afternoon surrounded by some green, so we sought out a park with trees, and came upon a most impressive statue!

After dinner, we went to the Spanish Steps to see what the evening culture there is like. Rick said it hopped. And it did. The steps looked like a stadium--full of people and vendors walked around trying to sell flowers and cans of beer. Nice combo.

Early the next morning, Flo and I had to part ways. Her vacation time was up and she left to head back to Brussels. I packed up to be on my way to Switzerland. Rome-Milan-Brig-Bern was my itinerary. I had only 10 minutes to change trains in Milan, so I darted off the train and bee-lined to the departure screen. To my dismay, the screen posted the departure time and end destination. My ticket had the departure time, train number, and MY end destination. Platform 8 was going to Zurich at 16:25. I was supposed to go to Brig at 16:25. I looked around. There was no one to ask. I started asking other travellers who waved me away saying they didn't know. With only 4 minutes to go, I decided I'd better get on this train. Just before boarding I asked the guy in front of me, who hesitated. He didn't think this was the right train, but wasn't sure. I spotted a woman in uniform and ran to the end of the platform to ask. No no, she said, you are on Platform 3. I sprinted to platform 3, lugging my suitcase behind, and knocking over anyone who got in my way, jumped on the train, and was safe. The spoken language changed from Italian to French.

Pretty much the same story in Brig--only this time the train was much fuller and with no overhead rack to stow luggage, I had to leave my suitcase in the aisle. Everyone obligingly stepped around it, until the snack cart came through. And now they were speaking German! I grunted as I pulled my suitcase onto my lap which was already occupied by my backpack, and again had flashbacks of that infamous train ride through France which ended with me falling over my bag in the aisle while all the French averted their gaze awkwardly. Luckily I escaped this train without further incident, and before I knew it I was in Etel and Adrian's car on the way to their apartment.

I slept soundly.