So this is where my story begins, with a slight language barrier. My plane arrived smoothly, and I figured out how to take a train to the city center. As soon as I got off the train, I felt like I was being bombarded by Italians asking me if I wanted a taxi, to which I said 'no' even though I had no idea where my hotel was. I just knew it was considered to be close to the train station, and I knew the address. So I started walking, all the while trying to keep an eye on street names just in case I happened upon the correct street. After walking about ten minutes, I felt like I was getting too far away and decided I better just get a taxi. I hailed one, and being the un-confident person I am I just handed my slip of paper with the address on it to the cab driver. He looked at it, glanced back at me, handed back the paper, and started driving. A block and a half later, he stopped, and told me that that was the street I needed. I felt so stupid, especially since I had just walked past the street, but I think it had a different street name on the opposite side where I looked. He told me I didn't need to pay, but I figured he could have driven me around in a circle since I didn't know where I was and I would not have noticed, so I paid anyway, and was very grateful.
I began walking in the appropriate direction, but soon found that I had walked too far. I turned around, and walked back while trying to keep a closer eye on the street numbers. How could I miss my hotel? I had no idea. But then I saw it – my hotel was not one hotel, it was actually three hotels. There was a different hotel on every floor, and my hotel was located on the third floor, or if you prefer, fourth floor by US standards. The elevator looked very rickety, so I started up the stairs. Once I reached my floor, I saw the sign. It stated, in very plain Italian and English, that I had to walk to a different hotel in order to obtain my keys. If I weren’t such a light traveler, I would have been mad. They could have put a sign on the ground floor stating this fact, but alas, no. I went back down the stairs and continued to the other address, where I found a much nicer hotel. I checked in, received my key, and walked back to my hotel and collapsed.
Well, for a few minutes anyway. I had not eaten dinner yet, so I went for a little walk in search of a restaurant. I did not have to go very far, and found myself in a sort of commercial looking pizzeria. But on the walk, I managed to see a couple of women who appeared to be working the streets, and I also received several exclamations of ‘Ciao!’ from men walking in opposite directions from me. At the restaurant, I ordered the first pizza that caught my eye – the Titanic. Suffice it to say that it had two very good toppings, zucchini and shrimp, but they did not go very well together. It was still a good pizza, though, I just picked off the shrimp. In the corner of the restaurant nearest me there was an obvious first date going on, and it seemed like it was going well by one of the participant’s manners, but not by the other. The couple seemed to be studying together at a local university, and the guy at least was Australian. I know this because he was doing all of the talking. It was an interesting listen, and kept me entertained while I ate.
The next day I got up and decided to start exploring. I discovered that I was only one block away from one of the train station entrances, and that meant I was also only one block from the main bus hub. I soon saw all of the different Hop-on, Hop-off busses that Rome had to offer. I just chose the one closest to me that seemed a reasonable price, and paid for a two-day pass. Which was interesting because when I said two-day pass, the guy helping me thought I said a today pass. Which might be why I noticed later that it was advertised as a 48 hour pass... I hopped on the bus (got a seat on the top deck) and pretty soon we were on our way. The bus went by all of the great sights, but the one I really wanted to get to was the Colosseum. There were quite a few stops before, and I started up a little chat with the group of American women sitting in front of me. Apparently one of the women had been having problems getting pregnant – she’d been trying for ten years! She only had one more chance to get pregnant, and her friends decided to drag her to Rome to get blessed in the hopes that maybe it would happen after her next treatment. They had done Vatican City 'right' the previous day, including drinking some Holy Water. I hope the woman luck, and it was definitely interesting speaking with them.
After more than two hours going this way and that way through all of Rome, we ended up at the Colosseum. Maybe it’s sad to say, but this is the one sight I was hoping to see in Rome. I eagerly joined the line, and soon I was on my way inside. I purchased a guided tour, but I had a good forty-five minutes to kill before it started. I spent my time wandering around, and just getting to know the space before the tour began. At one point I swear I saw a cat lying down in the colosseum, you can judge for yourself.
At the appointed tour time, I went to the rendez-vous point. There was no one there, and I sort of felt silly just standing there. Eventually a woman came up and asked if I was there for the tour, to which I responded yes. I was unsure whether she was another participant or the tour guide, but it was soon revealed that she was the guide. She went to the ticket counter and asked how many people had purchased the tour, and it turned out that I was the only one. We waited a few more moments in the hopes that someone else would also purchase a tour, but no one did. So, for approximately 4 euros I received a private guided tour of the colosseum.
Most of it I had heard before, but I had a few rumors that I had either made up on my own or heard before debunked by my guide. For instance, for some reason I thought the acoustics were supposed to be so good that if the emperor spoke the entire audience could hear. Debunked. Also, while the emperor did give the kill order for gladiators, it is unknown how he gave the order – the thumbs-up/thumbs-down used in the movie Gladiator was made up. Also, the seating in the Colosseum was by class: emperor first row, followed by knights, landowners, then came the worst seats, which two types of people sat in – women and slaves. Nice to know the women fit in somewhere, anyway. There was also someone who asked my guide how to get into the basement area of the Colosseum, which is not possible for tourists. You would think that the person would have seen that no one was down in that area… oh well. Oh, and I also asked about my cat. Apparently, cats and other animals were very commonly seen down there as recent as 30 years ago, but there shouldn’t be any there now. So that leaves to imagination what I saw – stray cat or ghost cat or no cat at all?
I am glad I was able to go there. Again, it’s the history of the place that fascinates me. After Rome became mostly Catholic, gladiators were no longer able to fight in the building. Since it no longer had any use, all of the materials making up the inside were taken to be used in other structures. At one point there were monstrous statues at every entrance of the structure, but now they do not exist anymore. It’s a shame really, all that’s left of the building are the raw materials that made up its skeleton. There was also an earthquake that took out part of the outer wall, giving the building the shape it has today. And at one point, a pope put up a cross in the colosseum to try to acknowledge persecutions the Christians made there, but it is completely undocumented that anyone was ever in fact persecuted there. Apparently the cross just adds to the rumor.
After the Colosseum, I decided to walk back to the point of a previous stop on my bus tour. It took me by some pretty awe-inspiring ruins, and I crossed back and forth across the road several times just to see them all. I got back to the previous stop fairly easily, but I had just missed the bus. So, I had to wait for about half an hour. In that time, some French students on a tour got back on their tour bus, a man broke a bottle of beer at the nearby refreshment stand, and the man who worked there cleaned it up.
When the bus arrived, I hopped on, and stayed on the bus for about another hour so that I could return to the bus station that was near my hotel. I hopped off the bus, and boy what a surprise I had in store for me…
“Bellisima! You are beautiful!” Which warranted a smile and a thank you, but I thought that would be the end of our exchange. Nope, it just provoked it, causing him to stop and talk with me further. I have a feeling he was around twice my age, but he was wearing a business suit and seemed very formal and graceful. “I am called Alexandro,” he said to me. Knowing that this was not the way he was going to pick me up, I offered a false name. He then inquired as to where I was going, to which I stupidly replied that I was just walking around (which was true, but I probably should have had a definite place in mind where I was going to meet imaginary friends). He explained to me how he just happened to turn while he was walking by me, and was taken by surprise when he saw how beautiful I was and it just slipped out and he wanted to talk to me. He also asked if I had a boyfriend, and where I was from. I made up the boyfriend, and since he didn’t ask my country of origin, just where I was from, I told him France. Luckily he didn’t speak French, so my (white) lie wasn’t completely blown out of the water. He told me that he was just getting off work, and he lived nearby. I said that’s nice, but I really needed to continue on. Sort of flustered, he asked if I would meet with him later that evening. Remembering my made-up boyfriend, I insisted that I didn’t want to do anything that would hurt our relationship. And I doubt I will ever forget what his response to this was – “But you are in Rome! You need to experience Rome before you leave!” (Oh, and you’ll have to imagine the hand gestures here!) I again said no, that I would be back in France soon, and while Rome may be great, France was where I would be returning. Realizing I would not give in, Alexandro gave up on trying to ask me out for that evening. We did what is called ‘les bises’ in French, just touching cheeks and air kissing, but he actually kissed my cheeks and lingered on the second kiss, and then we parted ways. He turned around and started walking in the opposite direction, and I realized he had either followed me for a bit before speaking to me or he kept walking while we were talking taking himself further from his destination (which was only a block). In either case, thank you for the self-esteem boost, Alexandro, and good luck with the next young tourist.
I decided to go back to my hotel since I wasn’t very far from it, and regathered myself while I called my mother. She told me some bad news, which seems to actually be better by now, but it still put me off for a while. After speaking with her, I went in search of another restaurant for the evening. I found a rather nice looking place, where I ordered the cannelloni, tiramisu, and cappuccino. Once I had finished the meal, I retired to my room for a bit of reading before sleep.
The next morning I took it easy, taking my time getting ready for the day. After I left the hotel, I got back on my bus. My plan for the day was to go to Vatican City. Once the bus arrived there, though, it was obvious that something was going on. There were police barriers blocking the streets, and a huge crowd in front of St. Peter’s Basilica. Did I just miss the pope?! Apparently I did. As I was walking closer, a couple asked me if I could take a photo for them, which I did, and I asked about the pope and they said he was still there, but he had finished his speech. So I proceeded to the crowded area with the intention of staying until I saw him. I think I was only there for half an hour to forty-five minutes, but I was able to see the pope leaving in his ‘pope-mobile,’ a name that sounded very stupid on the lips of the American women standing behind me, but which I have heard many a time before. That made me wonder whether it is also called the same thing in the UK or Australia…
I wandered out of the area with other people in the crowd, all the while noting all of the religious costumes that so many people were wearing, along with a few brides and grooms. I am also curious whether people get married in the morning, and then go to see the pope to bless the marriage, or if they show up in the attire with the hopes that the pope will marry them. I’m not sure, but I also saw a few women alone wearing wedding gowns and I wondered if they were hoping to get a proposal from the pope… ah, well, it’s fun to ponder!
I found a nice small café for lunch, and luckily there was a gelateria right next door. I tried out my first gelato, and I have to tell you, it was good! I tried out the café mocha, and enjoyed it very much. It was also, sadly, the only gelato I was able to buy while I was in Rome. After lunch, I returned to St. Peter’s Basilica, and got in the line to enter. Inside the building, it was extraordinary. There were statues of popes past, as well as one that was encased in glass.
After my time there, I started to try to find the Sistine Chapel. I knew that it was often listed as one and the same with the Museo Vaticani, the Vatican Museum, but I didn’t know you had to go inside the museum to go into the chapel. The museum was fairly cool; I especially enjoyed the Egyptian section. There were also tapestries and maps, but all I really wanted to do was get to the chapel.
It is truly a maze in the Musei Vaticani, but at least it is well laid out. I felt like I was walking down corridor after corridor and I would never get to the chapel. Finally, I arrived. And I couldn’t remember what was so fascinating about it. So I left. Then, I immediately saw the poster of the Creation of Manking… Michaelangelo! Right… How could I forget that? So, since the museum was sort of one-way only, I had to walk all the way back around to get back into the Sistine Chapel. This time I appreciated more what I was seeing, and really saw the brilliance of it. But I still can’t help feeling stupid for not immediately (or even in my search for it) remembering why it was famous. I just felt compelled to go there, like I couldn’t leave Rome without seeing it. But what can I say? I guess I’m just not a great art lover.
I left the chapel for the second time and left the museum for good. I returned to St. Peter’s Basilica, and hopped back on my bus (after stopping off at a couple of tourist shops and buying myself a deck of cards). I still had a few hours of sunlight, but I had finished everything I had planned to do for the day. Originally I planned to go to see the Spanish steps just before leaving the next day, but I realized I had time to do it then. So that’s what I did, I got off the bus at the stop for the Spanish steps and continued from there. My path took me to the top of the steps. There were people all around trying to sell roses to tourists, and I saw one woman become rather furious when they wouldn’t stop insisting with her. Maybe I just have that ‘no’ look down – maybe say no aloud, try to avoid much eye contact, shake your head, and continue walking. It doesn’t seem to stop them from asking, but it gets them to give up fairly quickly. There was also a group of what were probably Spanish students sitting on the steps holding a Spanish flag. Perhaps they were trying to reclaim the space, but it made it a picturesque visit. I walked down the steps, and then walked back up. I had not realized that visiting them would be so quick. So I walked back towards the bus stop and stopped at a pasta store on the way. I was planning on buying my roommate, Anna, a bag of gnocchi, especially since I had forgotten all of my travel documents at the apartment and she had told me everything I needed to know over the phone. The pasta store I went in only had dried pastas, so I would just have to wait to buy gnocchi (it probably would have been a bad thing to buy it that early anyway since it may have gone bad if I had). I then went back around the corner again and grabbed an early dinner at a restaurant. My meal was pretty much a repeat of the previous evening, only with spinach cannelloni this time. I finished around 6:30, and went back out to catch my bus.
As I got on the bus, the guide told me that the bus was only going another two stops, to St. Peter’s Basilica. That’s all right, I thought, I can just grab another bus from there. It took more than half an hour to get back to the Basilica due to traffic, and I got off the bus. I looked around and saw that the place was absolutely empty. No tourists anywhere, and no other tourist busses like mine. Oh no. Not a big oh no, but oh no. And I had used all but 5 of my euros, and you know how when you are looking for something you never see it? Well, I had been looking for an atm all day without seeing one, and I didn’t know whether taxis in Rome accepted credit cards. So, I walked down to the Basilica, tried to take a couple of night shots, and then started walking back in the general direction of my hotel.
Along the way I quickly found an atm, which felt like a miracle. I got out what I thought would be enough for a taxi, but I was just enjoying walking and decided to walk until I got tired, then I would hail a taxi. I planned out my route back, and started my journey. I never really felt like I was going through a bad part of town; there were always people bustling past and going this way and that way. I walked past a few of the places that I had seen on my bus tour, but since the bus goes in such a funny way across the city I never really noticed how it all connected. Before I knew it, I was back at my hotel. I had walked from one side of my map to the other, without getting lost (well, maybe once, but I just turned down the wrong road, and figured it how to correct my path quickly), and it had at most taken an hour and a half. How's that for saving money?
The next morning, since my plans for seeing the Spanish Steps were blown, I decided to try to find La Bocca della Verita (The Mouth of Truth) that was seen in 'A Roman Holiday.' Since my two-day pass was still good until 11:30 am, I hopped on the bus again, rode around for one last time, and hopped off at the appropriate stop. I walked down a hill, and there it was. The mouth is actually right outside of a church, and you have to pay 50 cents for one photo, and there is only one photo allowed at a time. I asked the people standing behind me in line to take the picture, which they agreed to do. The story of the mouth, loosely told by me, goes that if you stick your hand in the mouth, it will bite down if you are not a truthful person. My hand came out intact, so you can make of that what you will! I then walked around the church and the gift shop, but walked away with nothing.
I decided to take a route that took me past the opposite side of the same ruins I had walked by after visiting the Colosseum. I again got caught in a crowd of touring French students, but emerged unharmed :-). My path was loosely in the direction of the train station, where I wanted to end up eventually, and it took me by way of the Colosseum again. I walked around to the side of it that I had not seen the day before and took a few pictures.
Walking down a side street, I stopped off at a restaurant for lunch. It was much more expensive than any I had gone to before, and since the portions at the other restaurants had been more than enough I decided to only order some ravioli and a glass of wine. I guess I was in the tourist trap area. Despite the price of the ravioli and the elegance of the restaurant, the ravioli was only okay, and it was not very filling. I considered ordering something else, but realized that would probably double my tab for the meal and I did not want to spend anymore money on lunch. So I left, thinking that if I saw a gelateria on my way I might stop, but I never came across one.
Once I was about halfway back to the train station, I came across a metro station. I wanted to see what the metros in Rome were like, and it turns out that it was really nice. I bought my ticket, and continued on the train the rest of the way back to the train station. Since the only grocery store I had noticed was by the station, I stopped in there and bought the fresh gnocchi for Anna, then went back and bought my ticket back out to the airport. Inside the train station it was sort of like a mall with boutiques and stores everywhere. I wandered a bit, then got my train. My flight was inconsequential other than the languages that the flight attendants spoke on take off and landing. It was a Spanish airline, so all of the announcements were in Spanish and English. Only once, upon arrival at the airport, did the announcement come through in French, and then I realized why they didn't attempt the other languages. Since the majority of passengers were French, they were all laughing by the time the flight attendant had finished his welcoming speech to Paris... his accent was that bad. The one phrase that made me giggle was when he said, "A bientôt," he pronounced it "A bien toute."
My flight arrived around 8:30. I got back to campus around 10:30. There was a Latin Carnival Night going on in the MBA building that I went to with the other girls here, and it sounded like the events during the week would have been fun if I'd been on campus. Once we got to the fiesta, we started out by playing fooseball for a while, a game which I had not played in forever. My dad always wanted a fooseball table, and every time I see one I'm reminded of him.
Two weeks ago was India Week in the MBA, and a few of us also went to some of those events. The stuff on Thursday night included choreographed dances and live music. I enjoyed watching it all, and at one point I got pulled into the dancing. Then Friday night they hosted a (not nearly as long as a real) traditional Indian wedding. I again got pulled into the dancing, but it was still fun. My friend Mandira was supposed to be going out of town that evening, but she was having a good time so she missed her train, slightly on purpose. Towards the end of the evening, I was helping her find her coat, and we even went up to her office to look for it. It turned out to be in the main area of the building, and it's a good thing that she eventually found it. As we were walking back to our building, there was a pizza delivery guy that asked us where a building was, and I pointed him in the wrong direction two times...I just didn't know where it was in all honesty, and I told him that they were just guesses. The third time he stopped, Mandira invited him to the party in the piano bar, and he eventually showed up there with a friend. I realized later that it was possible that the friend was meant for me since I had been walking with Mandira at the time, but I never spoke to either of them.
The time changed here last weekend for daylight savings. The sun isn't rising as early in the morning, but it is staying brighter later into the evening. I've been trying to spend time outside, reading mostly. In fact, I wrote the majority of this entry while sitting on a bench on campus. The sun is starting to shine more often. The clouds were too depressing here. That is one thing I really loved about Rome: the sky was a brilliant blue the entire time I was there. I think that aspect is starting to come to Paris and Jouy. And it's a beautiful time to have it, too. The flowers are blooming, the birds are whistling, and the students here are campaigning for who will be the student government next year. Part of that campaign includes inflatable fun and games on campus.
My mom is coming next week and then we'll be traveling around a bit (10 days) in the south of France. So, I should be updating again after she's gone, and then she'll get to read all about herself :-).A plus!
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