Happy Birthday Rocky!

I did not get cheese, but instead had gelato for lunch.  A big heaping of something fancy I cannot pronounce, but managed to eat in one sitting.  We aimlessly wandered around the town for a few hours and discovered the market square where several of the purses called out to me.  It was more fantastic than the secret basements in New York where designer purses are sold for a bargain.  Originally, I assured Rocky I was just looking, but after the first few vendors I began to have second thoughts.  Witnessing my delight, Rocky suggested I purchase one as a souvenir.  Darlene will be so proud!  Rarely an impulsive buyer, I am still contemplating my purchase.  We have two more days here, so I have some time.  For dinner, we found an amazing little place with a special.  The food here is pretty expensive so this was exciting, and we got a complimentary glass of wine with our dinner.  Rocky was amazed that he had to come all the way to Italy to find lasagna he liked better than his mother’s.  

Today we took a tour of the city.  We went up to Piazza Michelangelo, which is a great view of the city (thanks, Kristyn!).  Next, we wandered around town and saw Santa Maria Novella, the Baptistery, the Gate to Paradise, and Duomo.  We ended at Accademia with the highlight being The David and all of the Renaissance art.  After all that sightseeing we had to head back to the hotel for a siesta!  That evening we found a new little restaurant to celebrate Rocky’s birthday.  As always, the wine and food was amazing and we had a relaxing and enjoyable dinner.  One thing about Europe, no one is ever in a hurry.  Dinner always takes at least an hour and a half.  After dinner we wandered around Piazza della Republica, listening to live music and people watching.  We stumbled upon a strange man putting on a street show and stopped to watch for a while.  It is now 2 in the morning here and we are turning in for the night.  Tomorrow will be a rough day… we have to find the perfect purse.  

      

Catching the Right Train...

We checked out of our hotel this morning and made our way down the crowded streets of Rome toward the train station.  This was the first time I had to maneuver with my bag and I’m not gonna lie, it was tough.  Using its backpack function was helpful, but also a workout.  I only thought I was taking a few weeks off the gym.  We stopped off in a souvenir shop for Rocky to buy a shot glass.  I’m Proud to Be an American  was playing loudly throughout the store.  I guess they want to make their tourist feel welcome.  Of course, Rocky had to sing along. 
We arrived at the train station fairly early and sat for a while.  Deciding we should make sure we could find our terminal we set off in search.  Here things got a bit confusing.  I located our train and the terminal, but then realized it was the wrong destination.  So we found the correct destination and walked for what seemed like a few miles to our terminal.  Along the way we passed the police station where about 25 policia sat outside in uniform and barrettes.  I’m not sure why, but they look so much scarier than our police officers.  Handsome, but very scary.  Arriving at the train in just enough time, we learned that this was, in fact, the wrong train.  Our train was the original one we looked at, of course, and was leaving in 10 minutes.  We literally sprinted the entire way back to terminal 4, past the police again, and onto our train, sweaty and gross.  Once in our seats, wouldn’t you know it, the lady behind me was wearing terrible old lady perfume.  Between that and my wonderful motion sickness, I spent most of the train ride trying not to puke all over myself.  The scenery was amazing.  Vineyards filled the countryside even moreso that in teh movies.   Lucky for me, the trip went fairly quickly and we arrived in Florence in no time.  Our hotel was a short walk from the train station and we are now settling into our cute little room.  The room key is an actual key with a tassel.  Now I am watching Rocky unpack all his clothes while I wait patiently to go out and find some wine and cheese.        

Popolo, Panini, and Penis?

I was looking forward to sleeping in this morning, but instead awoke to the sound of my husband dismantling the air conditioning unit.  It makes a ticking noise like an egg timer from back in the day.  Apparently this got the best of him around 7 AM and he decided to take matters into his own hands.  Maybe he was still bitter about the flyby pooping…who knows.  We had a quick bite to eat at the rooftop garden at our hotel and then set off in search of Piazza del Popolo.  This served as the “front door” of Rome during the 15^th century.  At the top of very steep steps the Pincio gardens open up and we could look out over the city.  Our next stop was the Spanish Steps to which last night’s chanting mob apparently relocated.  Pepy’s Bar sat on a convenient corner so we grabbed a table and I tried out the prosciutto and mozzarella panini and a frozen cappuccino.  I wrinkled my nose at Rocky’s shrimp pasta because the shrimp still had legs.  When I mentioned this, he laughed and pointed out that his pasta was in the shape of a penis.  Not sure what that’s about, but we decided not to ask.  This evening we will take it easy and head out in the morning for Florence.  

On a side note… I am extremely thankful for my washing machine and all the hard work it does.  This whole washing by hand thing is not for me. 

When In Rome...

We started this morning early in order to meet up with our private tour guide, Alex.  He looked a lot like an Italian version of our friend Edge, which repeatedly made us laugh throughout the tour.  We crammed as much into those three hours as humanly possible.  Our first stop was the catacombs which stretch for approximately 20 miles underneath the city of Rome.  It is a dark and chilly labyrinth of old tombs where the Christians were buried in Ancient Rome and some groups held mass in the elaborate rooms with high ceilings.  While it was definitely mind blowing, it was also a little creepy.  It reminded me of a haunted house I went through in college and I kept waiting for something to reach out and grab me.

Along the way we stopped to see an original piece of the first road built through Rome in 200 B.C.  It was weird to stand there and think of all the chariots that crossed that very spot.  I know it makes me sound a little like a history geek, but it’s impossible not to think about it when seeing all these extremely old places.   We stopped for a few photo ops with the first pyramid built in Rome (it seemed very out of place in the middle of the hustle and bustle of downtown), a cemetery for American soldiers killed during World War II, Circus Maximus (once the sight of ancient racetracks for chariot races, now just a grassy knoll), and Palatine Hill. 

We also toured the Colosseum, which may have been my favorite part.  From the top you could see the Roman Forum and the remains of ancient Rome.  The Colosseum is even bigger than it appears in pictures.  Some very burly Italian men wearing gladiator outfits stalk the perimeter and pose for pictures.  It was a little to Disneylandish for me.  Frankly, I was a little disappointed that Russell Crowe wasn’t wielding a sword in the arena.  The crowds were awful, but we were able to take pictures and roam around awhile.  Outside the Colosseum, the Arch of Constantine was impressive, especially with the 50 something Italian firemen marching under itJ  

The background information for “the keyhole” we visited was lost in translation.  We looked through a tiny hole in a door and viewed what looked like a scene from Alice in Wonderland.  A long path outlined with tall trees that opened up to a spectacular view of St. Peter’s.  I think it had something to do with a movie, but all I really understood was that this is where Italian men take their dates for a little rum and romance.

We ended the tour with several other small sights like Dante’s house, Fonte Acqua Paola, Piazza Venezia (the Wedding Cake), Mussolini’s office balcony, and a quick drive through the Jewish ghetto, which ironically is where the rich people live.

After all that sightseeing we decided to try out the Italian custom of the afternoon siesta.  This will definitely be part of our routine throughout our trip.  We woke refreshed and ready for an evening on the town.  This was delayed slightly by an oversight on my part and we spent an hour trying to contact the bank in order to use our debit card overseas.  We finally made it out and began the half hour walk to Campo de Fiori for some night life.  We made few wrong turns because the streets here make no sense and along the way Rocky was pooped on by an Albatross.  This was extremely funny because he was already a little frustrated about not finding our way easily and it was past dinner time.  I was little help and could only giggle and watch him try to clean his shit using the nearby lamppost.  We finally arrived and ate some fantastic pizza where we sat beside a couple who we thought didn’t speak English.  After some relatively entertaining dinner conversation on our part, they began to converse in English.  They now know way too much about us.  We had a few drinks at a little pub along the edge of a large square.  It reminded me of Sixth Street.  Apparently Barcelona won some soccer championship and the entire square erupted in chanting and singing while everyone jumped around and pink flags appeared out of nowhere. 

The walk home was much shorter and poop free.  Tomorrow’s agenda is wide open.    

The first day and night (I think)

All travel went smoothly.  My OCD required we arrive at the airport 3 hours early so once we made it through security (with my one carry-on bag!) we had about two and a half hours to sit and drink coffee, have breakfast, and play gin.   When it came time for boarding we realized we were in two different boarding groups.  Rocky was in group 2 and I was in group 4.    In order to make sure there was room for our carry-ons, we split up and he boarded first.  After he boarded I watched as the American Airline employee turned people away because their carry-ons were too big.  I started pulling stuff out of my fat carry on and stuffing it into my purse in hopes of avoiding a delay.  Palms sweating, I approached with my still puffy carry on and my now 20 pound purse.  Luck was on my side because he didn’t even glance at my bag.  Once on the plane we found we were sitting beside a 2 year old and a 2 month old… and both were seriously cranky.  Two hours later we departed the plane, having postponed having babies for another 10 years, and grabbed some lunch.  The next boarding was a repeat of the first, with Rocky boarding first.  This plane was bigger so we were in the middle row and somehow managed to have the entire 3 seats to ourselves.  This didn’t help with sleeping arrangements, but it was nice to have some extra room.  Neither of us slept much and finally we arrived in Rome at 9:00 AM ( 2AM Texas time).  We managed to find our hotel transfer in the sea of people and set off on the hour ride to Hotel Diana.  Traffic in Rome is about 100 times worse than Houston at rush hour if you can believe it.  Lights and stop signs as well as highway lanes seem to be only suggestions.  Smart cars and motor scooters zip in and out of traffic down streets where cars are double and triple parked on both sides.  Somehow we made it to the hotel in just enough time to change and catch the Metro to Vatican City.  The Vatican museum was huge.  Sculptures, paintings, and artifacts filled its walls.  Some of the most interesting work was on the ceilings of the large rooms.  The tour finished in the Sistine Chapel which is as beautiful and peaceful as you would expect, even when filled with hundreds of people.  We ended our day with pasta and wine at a quaint sidewalk bistro and then turned in early having been up for over 24 hours at that point.       

...one suitcase and then some.

By the time Rocky got home from work on Wednesday, I was packed and ready to go with my one tiny suitcase.  He was visibly impressed because I think deep down he didn’t think I would be able to do it.  If we’re being honest, I had my doubts, too.  Still, here sat my lovely little 21 x 14 x 9 suitcase ready for my trip.  As Rocky began to pack it became evident to me that he would be packing like a girl.  At one point I was convinced he was digging into the back of the closet to pull out things he hadn’t worn in ages.  I mean, why would he think that he should take his corduroy fedora hat from an 80s party we went to a year ago?  Or waterproof golf pants and jacket.  This continued for about an hour while I teased him and boasted of my own packing skills.  What’s that old saying…pride comes before a fall?  Well as it would turn out, in the midst of my teasing I remembered I had not packed my makeup or hair dryer.  Nor had I remembered a blanket for the plain.  As he finished packing, what had once looked like a mountain of clothes now sat in his suitcase and he had room to spare.  Anyone see where this is going?  After all the smack I talked to him, I had to then beg him to carry my hair dryer, my round brush, and my sunglasses case.  Then when he wasn’t looking I stuck the blanket in with a few other things I might need.  I’m sure he will notice at some point, but hopefully not before we are on our way?

E così va... (and so it goes)

This trip has been nine months in the making.  I planned our entire wedding in the time it took to organize this little adventure, but I'm pretty sure all the anticipation and organizing will be rewarded.  Still, I was a little worried in the beginning. 


First, Randy had Rocky convinced that we should consider staying at hostels along the way.  A hostel by definition is a "budget oriented, sociable accommodation where guests can rent a bed, usually a bunk bed, in a dormitory and share a bathroom."  Mmm, this sounds exactly like how I was hoping to spend my ANNIVERSARY.  Sharing a bunk bed with my husband and a bathroom with God knows who.  No thank you.


Next, Rocky informed me that he did not want my OCD to overtake the trip.  Fair enough.  My little disorder has been know to cause instant death to a few good times in the past.  He continued by explaining that we should purchase airfare and then play the rest by ear.  To clarify, that meant no hotel reservations, no train tickets, no excursions planned, nothing.  And while I would like to pretend that I am laid back and easy going, no amount of Xanax could help me fake my way through that type of trip.  So, after some bargaining, we came to a compromise.  We would book airfare, hotels, and transportation, but we would leave our days open to explore as we desired.  This still makes me a little nervous, but it is definitely do-able. 


So here we are, five days from leaving, and the biggest obstacle still looms ahead of me.  I have to pack for a two week trip in one 21 x 14 x 9 carry-on bag.  I could easily fill that with shoes!  My well traveled friend Kristyn assured me that traveling light is the way to go so I bought a sturdy carry on that I can only hope has magical powers.