Rome -- 4/12/11

Voices in the hallway wake me at 2:30 and I can’t get back to sleep. I read for a while then pseudo-nap until about 7:15. My early rising gives me time to think that after yesterday, I’d had more than enough with the happy wanderer crap. Today, there has to be a plan.

I get up, nearly stub my toe on the step up into the bathroom (that is just wrong on so many levels), and get ready for the day. I’m actually not tired considering how little sleep I got. It seems that my body just works differently when I travel. It requires less food, water, and sleep than normal. Makes me think that maybe I was an explorer in a past life; someone used to long voyages, scant supplies, and harsh conditions. Maybe I was someone like Amerigo Vespucci or Vasco De Gama (I’ve always like those names J). Anyway, it’s just a theory.

One of the perks of this hotel is that they have a complimentary breakfast buffet every morning. There’s eggs, cereal, fruit, pastries; a nice selection. I make a small plate and take a seat in the less crowded part of the dining area. A waitress comes out shortly to take my drink order.

Italian coffee is angry. It’s dark and gloppy and more like our version of espresso (I would be truly frightened to see their version of espresso!). I knew this going in though. Back in high school, my Foods teacher had our school’s Italian exchange student come talk to us about her experiences. She said that American coffee was like drinking brown water. Well, when you’re used to sucking directly on coffee beans, I can see how our brew would disappoint. I was very grateful that the Italian waitress recognized me as an American and brought a container of milk to the table. One part coffee to two parts milk and a ton of sugar makes the coffee somewhat less chewy.

One of the pastries I snag turns out to be the Italian equivalent of a Twinkie only not as evil. There’s one to a pack with just a little cream filling and no aftertaste like a Twinkie. Tasty. This time out I’m ready. I make a left out of my hotel instead of a right and then another left onto Via Settembre. Now this is more like it. This is a major street that lets out onto all the big tourist sites. It’s lined with orange trees which I love though you have to be careful not to step on any that have fallen on the sidewalk. I knew from the day before that Roman streets aren’t always as straight as they seem. You’ll be doing fine until the street hits a circle then you have to navigate around the crazy traffic to get back on same street which might have changed names by this point. Oy.

Once again I’m nearly run over, this time while on the sidewalk. A delivery truck is coming right at me looking to park. Clutch heart, navigate around, then keep moving. These signs are everywhere to indicate it’s safe for pedestrian traffic but just know that it is only a suggestion. Just because you are in an area marked for foot traffic doesn’t mean you might not still be clipped by a passing motorcycle or just plain run over. Getting edged off the sidewalk into the side of a bus is also a distinct possibility.

I had learned the day before that it’s best to follow a Roman whenever possible, especially when crossing the street. More than once, I'd be standing on the sidewalk waiting for the light to change only to see a Roman just walk into the street then look for traffic. Bold, but it seems to work for them. I didn’t see anyone get hit the entire time I was in Rome.

I end up behind this very sure-footed Roman who appears to be on his way to work. Even when the walkway gets very narrow or crowded with parked cycles, the man would wend his way along with me right behind him. I follow his bald head over church steps and past piazzas, past a very pretty park and some of the many guard stations that are near the government buildings. I follow him until a see my turn off and bid him a silent thanks for unknowingly being my guide.

The first place I stumble on is Piazza Navona, a pretty famous meeting area nestled between a bunch of buildings. It has two fountains in it and plenty of sitting areas. I arrive early so it’s not too crowded and a lot of the cafés and vendors are just getting set up. It is another beautiful day in Rome.

I make a brief stop for souvenirs then use the map to try to find my way to the Pantheon which is nearby. In theory. Once again I’m up and down windy streets, end up back in Piazza Navona at least twice and getting frustrated and completely turned around.

I end up crossing a bridge towards a big white museum.

Following the crowd to the left across another street, it slowly dawns on me that I’ve reached Vatican City. The huge crowd in front of me is not actually a crowd but a line to get into the museums. I do want to see the Sistine Chapel but those lines are heinous. I stop to take a rest and consult my guidebook, noticing as I do that the line doesn’t seem to be moving much. That’s all I need to know. It’s back across the bridge for me and back to the original mission of finding the Pantheon.

Where is this place anyway? A huge ancient building and yet it seems to be hiding from me. Logic says I should be able to follow the crowds just like I did to the Vatican but I truly think that most of the people around me are tourists who are just as lost as I am. The few signs there are to guide foot traffic are pretty useless. There will be one sign pointing out the way then once you take that street (or alley in some cases) it dead ends into a circle that leads to two or three other streets. Now which way? Needless to say, even with a map I end up doing a lot of guessing.

Ah. There is it. The Pantheon is the center point of yet another open area with a fountain in the middle and buildings and cafes all around (Piazza D. Rotunda). It’s crowded like most places in Rome but not too bad. I can get in and see the statues and huge domed ceiling. You would never guess that this church is over a thousand years old. It’s in excellent shape. I notice people sitting in the pews and see the dais set up in the front. Could there still be ceremonies performed here? I don’t know.

Back outside I take a look around. This is actually a nice piazza. There are musicians waltzing around (accordion and violin), horse-drawn carriages in front of the ancient church, and plenty of places to sit and watch the goings on. I do have to wonder though as I look up at all the open windows of the apartments surrounding the piazza; how on Earth does anyone live next to the Pantheon? What would it cost and more importantly why would you do it? Sure, your favorite trattoria may be just a few steps away but is it worth it to have to wade through so many loud, smelly bodies to get to it? Plus the horses?

After sitting for a while by the fountain, I’m getting ready to leave when I notice a woman leaning over one of the water fountains trying to get a stain out of her shirt. Remembering the Tide stick I brought with me, I decide to pay it forward from the nice Italian lady who had helped me the day before. I offered her the stick but she was Italian and had no idea what I was talking about. I tried to demonstrate on my hand how you have to press down to get the liquid to come out. She tries but it doesn’t work. Long story short, I end up practically stabbing this poor woman in the chest in the middle of the piazza to no avail. That chocolate gelato was there to stay. So much for doing a good deed.

From the Pantheon, it’s a comparatively easy walk to Trevi Fountain. Located down yet another narrow alley clogged with vendors and tourists, I can see why Trevi is so popular. The fountain is huge and very ornate. I get my shots as quickly as I can though. There are way too many people here for me to even think of getting anywhere near the water. I figure I can always come back to it later if I want.

Whipping the map out yet again, I see that I’m not too far from my original target of the Hard Rock. On the way, I get stopped by some Italians looking for McDonald’s. As surreal as it is for Italians to be asking me for directions, it was even weirder because I actually knew where it was. I had just passed it coming from Trevi. I tried to explain to them but my directions didn’t translate. Oh well. On to the Hard Rock.

The restaurant is located at the very end (of course) of a long windy street loaded with fancy hotels and other high class buildings. Here for a shirt, I decide to stay for lunch (I know. I know. Who flies all the way to Rome to eat in an American burger joint? I was tired, okay, plus I needed to tinkle so don’t judge me). I freshen up, have a lovely meal of grilled salmon and broccoli, then head to the shop. I add a black shirt with sequins to the collection and leave the restaurant.

Since the pack is now getting kind of heavy, I plot a course back to the hotel to unload. I’m walking along, taking pictures as I do. I see a sign for a galleria and take a step inside. Wow. Even the mall looks like the Sistine Chapel.

Back out on the street, I’m trying to fight the crowds, edge around cycles, cut through outdoor patios on the way to the hotel only to run into more than one wrong street. I get back on the main road, snapping pictures along the way, thinking I’m going in the right direction. So why is it that I see this in the distance?

It’s the freaking Colosseum! Just as a point of reference, my hotel is located to the NE of the historic center of Rome, I was currently somewhere in the middle of it, and the Colosseum is located due south. What the &)*O8@! Rome was screwing with me again. Don’t get me wrong, the Colosseum is on my list of sights to see but I hadn’t intended to see it just this second. Fine. Since I’m already on my way …

The road I thought would become Via Settembre was actually Via Del Fori Impeirali. It’s a very busy street with ancient statues and ruins on either side of it. And it is a serious hoof for my already tired feet.

By the time I reach the Colosseum (and the ever-present crowds), all I can think to do is sit for a while. I join other weary travelers sitting on the short wall in front of the Colosseum and just watch the folks go by. There are tour groups of all kinds (even one zipping around on Segueways) and it’s amazing for me to note that for some school kids, this is just another field trip. And I thought my yearly trips to the Smithsonian as a kid were cool.

I haul my butt off the wall and make a full circuit around the building before I get in line to enter. The entry fee is normally 15.5 euros but when I try to give the guy my money, he says its free. I don’t even ask why; just take my ticket I go (found out later that it was Cultural Week in Rome and a lot of the attractions waived their entrance fees).

The pictures speak for themselves. I love the old pock-marked walls and the dark little alleyways full of rubble. You can’t help but feel small knowing that this building has been around for centuries and will be around once you’re dust. Very humbling.

I keep seeing people on the second floor but it takes me a while to figure out how they got there. I had seen an elevator from outside but being inside made it hard to locate. After some searching I reach the steps. Since I figure the elevator would probably be really crowded, I vote to take the stairs. Hey, it’s only one flight and a landing, how bad could it be?

Forget the StairMaster, these steps are brutal! Each one is the size of three normal steps! And I thought climbing the Arc de Triomphe was bad. Despite having more steps, that was a piece of cake compared to this. Note to future self: if I ever return to the Colosseum, don’t try to be a he-woman! Just take the elevator!

Oooh, Lawd. I need a rest after that. Just up the stairs are a series of museum-like displays with ancient relics along with renderings of how the building looked throughout the years. I look at the displays, take a few pictures, then figure it’s time for that looooog walk back to the hotel.

There are taxis gathered in front of the Colosseum as well as horse-drawn buggies. I know from my map that there is a Metro station nearby. But, once again, I chose to walk and save a few bucks. And it was a very long walk back to the hotel. By the time I get back it’s getting dark so the routine from the other night sounds like a good one. I have to get up early so I first pack my purse for the day (to give my shoulders a break from the backpack).

The music adds some well needed atmosphere to the room but the station I find is a little strange. The DJs are Italian but the station ID and call-signs are (American) English. Half of the songs are Italian and the other half are American rap, dance, and top 40. It caught me by surprise to hear a song in Italian followed by an old Madonna song, Italian, then an unedited rap song (I guess if you don’t speak the language, the n-word doesn’t really mean anything to you).

Bath, protein bar, and then a little reading before bed.