Roman Holiday

 My hotel room was freezing cold. Apparently there is a rule for hotels in Rome that they can’t put on heat till the middle of November. I applaud their eco goals, but extra blankets wouldn’t have gone astray. I gave up the fight to get warm at about six, deciding to walk through the Borghese park across the road. It was still dark but the park is well lit and outside was warmer than inside so I walked for almost an hour. I’ve included a photo of the Aurelian wall that you walk through to get to the park. 

To my absolute delight, I ran into Philomena, an Italian lady that my mother met when walking on our July trip. We had a little chat - she has no English and I have no Italian, but waving hands and smiles and basic vocabulary got us somewhere and it was very fun to run into her. 

Breakfast was on the seventh floor, and as the hotel is high up on a hill,  the beautiful warm morning light illuminated Rome spread out in front of me -  a maze of streets and terracotta roofs with church domes rising out of the chaos here and there. 

I had booked a morning golf cart tour - the three hour itinerary took me everywhere I wanted to go and ended nearish to the hotel. I had figured it was cheaper and easier than a lot of taxis, and would add some interesting history and information. I was early (I know no one is surprised) and had time for a coffee at a little coffee shop across from the colosseum- here’s the view from the window. 

I was the only person on the tour, so quickly negotiated with the guide for some itinerary changes. The good luck ended there. Firstly, my tour guide Santos was from El Salvador and knew a lot about El Salvador but not much about Rome, despite living here for forty years. Further, there was a marathon on in Rome this morning, so streets everywhere were blocked off and there was no way to get to any of the places we were supposed to go. The golf cart tour morphed into a walking tour, that, due to the distances didn’t cover much. I’m pleased to say that I FINALLY managed to get to the Mouth of Truth (only my fourth time in Rome). The church there had a cool catacomb and I lit a candle for Jason for his birthday. 

I returned to a little restaurant from our first night in Rome on the July trip for a delicious pizza and a glass of red. At the table next to me there was a dapper little old man, dressed to the nines in a three piece suit, fedora and fancy shoes. Either a regular or a relative of the proprietor, he said nothing but proceeded to set his own table and then sat down for a delicious looking veal with a pile of potatoes and fried artichokes. The plate across from him had the same food but no one sat down. I shamelessly people watched, trying to figure out the story but it didn’t play out before I had to leave for the train station. 

The train promised a comfortable ride through the gorgeous Italian countryside but I was sooo tired and kept nodding off and jerking awake. I may have drooled. I’m very satisfied with my day in Rome. I love the layers of old, built on with new, the people, the food, and the environment. Also , I need to learn Italian. 

Florence arrival was smooth and I’m going to save the hotel arrival story till the next instalment.