Rome if You Want To

Rome if You Want To

After a spell in the lands of Cyrillic and Greek alphabets, we return to the home of the Roman one. In. Rome.  Didn't see that one coming, did you?

We had to get up at 4:50 am to catch a flight from Sofia, Bulgaria to Rome, Italy.  We arrived at the same time as a flight from Philly had arrived.  Older Americans making their big pilgrimages to Rome!  Now if they can only stand on the green footprints that say, in English, "Stand Here" to get through immigration.

Well, I was in this shop in Rome before I had my cataracts done and...

We made our way out the airport and was whisked away to a cab by the airport 'staff'.   While desperately trying to ask questions about fares, they pushed our bags to another guy and then to a third who started to place them in his trunk.  None of this was right but at least he could no longer run another 100m.  He gives us a crazy quote and say, It's an UBER.  (UBER is banned in Rome.)  When we balked at the extra 30$ fare, he wanted to negotiate.  Go to hell we mumbled as we got our shit back. Serious travel tip.  Get an estimate of the expected price before hailing a cab and then know the price before the car starts.  Uttering Stop the car now works well too.  Cabbies will often quote you a non-published non-metered fare well above market.  Just stop it at first chance.

Hassle avoided, our Airbnb host let us drop off our bags early and we walked around the corner, literally around the corner, to the Vatican.  It was very busy with strangers offering discount tickets.  Stu politely says "no" whereas I am now feigning deafness or comprehension of the English language. I just spent a week in Bulgara, believe me, some Bulgarians are really good at not knowing English

Piazza Navona

Our host texted Stu and told him our room was ready.  We dropped by the supermarket and did our stroll.  Supermarkets in some countries feel sensual.  Which chocolate mousse did you want?  Oh hell, let's try all 10! Lunch meat.  I bet you at least 40 of these count as a salami.  Each aisle is an opportunity to dance with a small cart that whirls in all directions.  Combine that with my innate ability to find mark downs, and you would see I just got some marked-down panna cotta of the bedsheets as I type this.

Piazza Navona

After a long nap, we walked after sunset to Piazza Navona, a lovely open base with wonderful Baroque fountains that once was the Stadium of Domitian.  Eventually we waded towards the freakshow that is, the Trevi Fountain. All roads led to Rome—but not in neat grid over time.  The fountain is in a tight space with a huge crowd at any hour.   You pretty much don't walk up to the fountain but rather come around the corner to the spectacle of pickpockets, cameras, selfies, oh and the fountain.   It seems disrespectful to call it a fountain.  Which is moving faster, the water, or the marble horses charging through the surf?  It is hard to walk away from that setting.  I kept looking back.  Maybe I could just stay here and smile until like everyone, so I've read, has to go pee.