The Adventures of Team H

The morning of our final day in Rome, we hopped on the bus to cross the Tiber river over to Vatican City.

We held reservations for 8:15 am, so we felt confident as we got off and began our approach to the imposing Vatican. Only one thing troubled us: Where do we go stand in line? We know we have to meet the guide at the Museum entrance. That must be here, at the Church, right?
Oops...
With some fumbling and direction-asking, we determined we were around 1 km away from the Museum entrance! Time to hustle... We speed-walked down the street, obeying some rough directions. We came upon an intersection, and a mysterious American woman, sensing our befuddlement, instructed us to turn left and pass everbody standing in line, and to carefully use the street to get around them if need be. Running out of time now, we did exactly this, passing hundreds of visitors in a line 10 people thick - evidently the ones lacking reservations. Then we kept passing more hundreds of people. Dodging motorcycles and little cars every now and then. Finally we made it to what appeared to be the Museum entrance... Now, where's our guide? The frantic search for him began. There seemed to be a half dozen tour groups swirling around. Then by accident we found a few of our own tour group members. Then, our smiling guide showed up, and we were finally back in business.

The next few hours were total immersion in art. Our guide took us through rows of sculpture, paintings, frescos, tapestries, explaining everything he could and answering any and all questions, offering a lot of historical context. After some anticipation, we finally entered the Sistine Chapel (where no photography is allowed), followed up by Saint Peter's Basilica. It's tough to do justice trying to describe these sights, while writing from a timed terminal at an internet cafe. But again, imagine total art immersion! Sistine = Paintings, Everywhere! St. Peters = Sculpture and tombs and marble decor, everywhere! My hope is that some choice photo uploads will help where the prose falls short.

After all this we were pretty hungry and tired, ready for a quick pizza lunch down the street. This was achieved with ease. Now refueled, we walked out toward a fortress-like castle just to the east, then followed the river south, sort of aimlessly, half trying to make it to another church. But we had already had a full day and a full Rome experience, and remembered the adage, that you can' see everything on one trip. Satisfied, we took a bus back to the hotel and began plotting our next move up through Italy.

Our wake-up call was for 6 a.m., but we did not get up. Finally, we got up around 7. Lucky us -- ten minutes more and we would have missed the last train to Florence until 10 p.m. We did not know where the train station was, how we would get there, or whether we needed to validate our Eurail passes before boarding. To say we were winging it would be an understatement. After a little misplaced (thankfully, not stolen) ipod drama, the woman at the hotel front desk called us a taxi.

One look at the departures-arrivals screen revealed we were two minutes away from missing the last train of the morning (or the afternoon or early early evening, for that matter), which was idling on track 5. I vaguely remembered from my last trip to Europe that the rail system is somewhat informal and that we might be fine if we just boarded. I started running toward the track (it was very dramatic), hoping Eric would just trust me on this one.

After the first stop, we got two seats together and were travelling in comfort, despite the fact I was still concerned we might be on a car destined to split off and head for who-knows-where instead of Florence. Everything ended up fine in the end. We discovered that we should have indeed validated the tickets, but the conductor gave us no trouble. Also, the entire train was headed to Florence. The only problem was that the trip took three hours when it was supposed to take an hour and a half. We were starving and thirsty because we had not planned for such a long trip and grew increasingly frustrated with each stop (not to mention the extremely physical teenage couple that sat in front of us halfway through the ride). We still do not know what happened!

Sleeping under frescoes

The hotel was a few blocks walk from the station (again, a lucky break). If you ever stay in Florence, you have to stay at the Hotel Burchianti. It is as comfortable as it is beautiful ... there is an original 15th century fresco on the domed ceiling in our room. The scene is hard to describe ... all I can say is there are cherubs, a family, clouds, and a tiger.

Once we settled in, we headed out for lunch and to get the lay of the land. After pizza, calzone, and chianti from a Tuscan region we had passed not more than two hours prior on the train (Figlene), we were at Santa Maria del Fiore within ten minutes of walking. Pictures do not do justice to the scale of the tower and the Duomo. We wandered all around the piazza, just staring up at the structures. We got in a line we thought might be to climb the dome and were entertained by a truly talented street performer. Eric took video; when we get it up on the blog, you have to watch it. We did not really know what to expect, but we were soon climbing in excess of 460 steps spiraling upward in a narrow column. We got to the top of the dome interior, where we got a closer look at the heaven-hell painting all around. We were surprised to learn that there were more steps to climb after circling the dome. At the top of the stairs was an outdoor balcony. At first it was scary especially since I was dizzy from climbing the spiral steps, but the view was unbelievable (again, I cant do it justice, and neither can our pictures). It was all a wonderful accident.

Leather goods and shiny things

After that, I figured we would just set out in the direction of the river. That took us through the shopping district and straight into some serious crowds. I was annoyed, but could not resist the outdoor markets. For those of you who are counting, I have already bought two purses (I probably will not be buying any more, it just cost me 98€ to ship everything home, but that is a story for another day). We did finally make it down to the Arno and the Ponte Vecchio. I was both disappointed and delighted. The bridge itself was more enclosed than I had envisioned, but the whole thing is filled with jewery shops! Of course the crowds -- and the scornful look on Erics face -- stopped me from going inside any of them.

We are just a little bit north of Rome, but already it is much, much colder. As we were forced back to the hotel by the cold, I stopped off for some leather gloves. I was getting worried because we still have much further north to go, we both bought warmer coats today, so things should be manageable for at least a while (all bets are off in Prague).

Today, we went the the Gallery Accademia (sp. -- this is costing me 4€ an hour at the Internet cafe, you will have to forgive any mistakes) and the Uffizi. We got to the Accademia as it opened. Because we had the place to ourselves for the first ten minutes, we decided to race right to the David. One of the better ideas I have had this trip. I will be honest, I sometimes get bored looking at art (I like what I like and have not yet learned to truly appreciate the rest), but I could have looked at David all day. The space, lighting and treatment (not to mention, ample room to sit) they give the most prominent works probably help. Overall, it was an impressive museum. It is a manageable size and the crowds were small, so we really enjoyed ourselves.

Confessions of a carnivore

I have a confession to make. After we left, we stopped into a McDonalds. We didnt just go in for cappucino. We didnt even use the restroom (as we have done there so many times over the last week -- it is one of the only reliable places to find a restroom). We had a buy-one-get-one-free coupon for the Big Mac. I will leave you to picture what happened next. We are not proud.

Our bellies full of ground beef (or whatever they make those patties out of), delicious secret sauce, and the first onions I have had all week (do Italians not cook with onions?), we headed again to the river to get to the Uffizi. The Uffizi is a test of endurance. We had reservations, but it took some time to find Door 3, where we would exchange those for tickets. There was a line to do this. Then, it took time to find Door 1, where we would supposedly gain entrance. There was a line at Door 1 just to be told to go to Door 2, where, you guessed it, there was a line. Then, there was a line for the metal detector, which comes in second to the airport for screening rigor -- we had to remove our coats and scarves. Then we reached an entrance where we showed our tickets and thought we were in. Then, there were four or five flights of stairs before we had to show our tickets again. But Boticelli made it (and the exceptionally rude employees) all worth it. Having spent some time on Boticelli in UCSD art history classes (Its a fact: Art History was the only subject I ever got an A in in college), I was really looking forward to "Birth of Venus" but was delighted to rediscover "Spring." Needless to say, they sold enough Boticelli schwag to appropriately extend the hapy half hour I spent taking those two works in. Other standouts were Titian and Caravaggio (why do I love the Medusa so?).

There is lots more to say, but my pre-paid hour at the Internet cafe is coming to a close and I am looking forward to some hot bean soup and (a Tuscan specialty, so I read) and more chianti. Tomorrow, we go to Fiesole. Ciao!

We woke up too late to take advantage of the hotel's breakfast offerings, so we stopped at a cafe around the corner called "Cafe de Paris." Walking by the morning of Day 2, the impressive pastry cases had made a lasting impression. Knowing it was probably a mistake, I tried to order quiche. I don't know the rules, but everything Americans eat for breakfast seems to be a no-no before noon in Europe -- the quiche had "not arrived yet." Eric and I both settled on a ham and cheese sandwich, criossants, cappucino, and canoli to finish! I say breakfast here is like "eating in a vacuum." If it's not ceral or eggs, what's the difference between pizza and a sandwich?

All roads lead to Rome (but who knows where they go once you get there?)

Next, we attempted what we thought was a straight shot to the Borghese Villa, but no "straight shots" exist in Rome (even if a street continues in a straight line for some time, the name changes at least twice before you reach your turnoff). Getting there was tricky -- signs for major attractions in Rome often get you going in the general direction, but leave you hanging a few blocks later. Eventually we decided to hang a left and follow the wall we surmised surrounded the considerable grounds. Bingo! The villa was one of the only things we opted not to reserve in advance. The museum was sold out for the day, so we made reservations for tomorrow and decided to walk the grounds. They were unlike anything we had ever seen before, and proved to be a peaceful, spacious respite from the bustling city outside, which we would soon find was more crowded than the previous two days.

We happened upon the Spanish Steps again, and stood still for too long. A man selling roses approached us and proceeded to "give" me three roses. I really didn't want them, but he insisted, saying they were a gift because he was so enchanted with my beauty (my own words, but you get the idea) as he placed them in my arm. Finally I gave up and we started to walk away when he demanded "just a little money." Eric fished coins out of his pocket and gave the man two euros. He asked for more, and after Eric stopped with five euros, the man took back two of the roses!

The Pantheon had been closed the day before (We realized later that this was most likley due to rain, given the fact that the famed opening in the dome is not covered by glass, and marble floors plus water equal liability). We got overconfident and stopped consulting the map, which meant it took us longer to locate the Pantheon today than the day before. While navigating streets increasingly crowded with people and cars was annoying, we got some great shopping in. OK, I got some great shopping in; I've been waiting months to go to Zara!. Finally, we turned a corner and suddenly saw the behemoth building -- these moments of surprise being one of my favorite things about Europe. What can I say about the Pantheon that would do it justice? Personally, I prefer the exterior.

Was it something I said?

We left and had pizza a taglio, which you pay for by weight! After greeting me with "Ciao," the girl behind the counter did a double-take and corrected with, "Hi." As Eric and I ate our pizza (truly an upgrade from the stuff back home; wiah I had ordered more), we wondered what it was about our appearance that instantly gave us away as Americans. We narrowed it down to our hair, the cut of our pants, and our facial expressions before setting out to see the Trevi Fountain. We wrestled our way to the front of the fountain, threw in our coins, and took some proper photos. all with shopping bags in one hand and gelatto in the other. A note about gelatto: Eric would never eat it at home because it looked "too wet," but now he's hooked like me.

Tomorrow is our last day in Rome, and we will be making the most of it with a Vatican tour and a much-anticipated return to the Borghese Villa. Buonasera!

Finally, an internet cafe! We almost gave up hope...

First glimpse of Rome

We touched down in Rome a bit before 8:00 am on Christmas day, pretty well wiped out after the 9 hour leg from Atlanta. Our first job, after recovering our bags, was to find a taxi to the hotel. Immediately we were approached by Mr. Charisma, a guy who offered to take us there by van. Within moments we surmised he was probably unlicensed, saw the error in this and slipped away toward the licensed taxi area, a line of various beat-up white cars inching forward. Our taxi driver, an older white-haired gentleman, pulled up to the front and soon we were on the road.

We sped down the Autostrata, catching our first baffling glimpse of Italy from the back seat. We were realizing at this point how lacking we were in our knowledge of the outskirts of Rome. For several minutes the scenery was rural, looking like any number of areas you find in the US. Then we entered the city - a shock! For the next several minutes, our driver, who had still not said a word to us, careened down the vacant, twisty streets, through run-down graffiti-marked residential neighborhoods. The area looked like some of the guidebook pictures of Mussolini-era construction, but that was as familiar as it got; ancient Rome this was not.

Venturing conversation, I tried asking the driver what district this was. He grunted something like 'despachio'. (Later we learned this meant 'sorry'). It had become apparent by the end of the ride that our driver, in his years of experience shuttling tourists, had already learned all the English he cared to. After struggling to settle the fare, we realized we had a little Italian to teach ourselves in the coming days...

We finally made it to our hotel, a nondescript building on the North end of town, and settled in, pleased how clean and nice the room was. It was now time to catch a few hour nap and head out for a bite to eat.

A Spontaneous Walk to The Colloseum

Our first outing was camera-free; we had left in in the room, and didn't bother to retrieve it, because we weren't planning on getting much more done that evening beyond dinner. It was just before dusk and not as cold as expected. Before long we found ourselves at the top of the famous Spanish Steps, its obelisk under renovation (more on this later). We found - as did most other Americans that everning - an appealing little restaurant near the steps. Two pasta dishes and a carafe of red wine later, we were satisfied with our accomplishments.

It was dark as we left, but still not especially cold. We could see throngs of people in the cobblestone streets wandering around, interspersed with street vendors, practically covered in brightly colored LED baubles, occasionally flinging little toy flying saucers skyward. (This saucer toy looked pretty cool, I thought, which did entertain Lauren) We decided to get out there and see what we could find before jet-lag exhaustion would finally take hold of us for good.

Headed about South, armed with a map from the hotel, we strolled and watched the locals (and their dogs), and other tourists go about their evening under a full moon. To our surprise, we checked the map and found we were already well on our way to the city center and the Colloseum!

Every block had some sort of attraction it seemed, and they sort of drew us further along. Around a final corner we went, and there it was in the distance at the end of a long avenue - the Colusseum.

Down the avenue, past more vendors and their flashing lights, as the ruin grows larger... We strolled on, finally passing the last of the trincket guys, who seemed to be keeping a respectful - or perhaps required - distance from the actual site. Joined by only a few clusters of other visitors, we felt unrushed as we took in the sight and meandered around the outer wall and iron-gated archways. Looking straight up the walls from the base, you're struck by how truly massive the structure is. The walls had a haunting look, with the higher arches bathed by orange-tinged lights. We stepped up on some rounded lumps of stone as we walked (originally cut at right angles, you'd have to think). We started walking around the perimeter, past some fenced-in trenches, apparently new archaological digs. The Colosseum revealed new dark passageways as we peeked in from the different viewpoints. There at night, you could try to imagine what must have occured long ago (the deafening cheers and terrifying games of violence). I fell short of being able to picture much of this. Our Colosseum on Christmas eve was a peaceful giant, and delightfully, more than just another tourist attraction.

Our planned Colosseum visit was first thing the next day. We got there this time via a speeding public bus. It was raining since dawn, and now quite glad to encounter a street vendor, we picked up a couple of cheap umbrellas on the way to the bus stop. It was an entertaining and fascinating couple of hours, as we did the popular stuff: got our pictures with the rowdy 'gladiators' (for a mere 20 Euros), and did the self guided tour inside. Quite a place, but probably better shown than explained. We'll get the pictures up, as soon as we get our stuff completely figured out here at the internet cafe...

We're boarding our flight to Rome one week from today!

Over the last six weeks since the previous post (can that be right?), we've been locked in that ongoing rat race, doing some holiday stuff, and sneaking in a moment of trip planning every now and then. All our Italy arrangements are now in order, we have our global GSM phone, our Eurail passes, voltage converter, two 4GB digicam chips, tasteful walking shoes, Target brand warm accessories, and what remains a very rough plan for Austria and Germany (mainly involving castles and dark beer).

Our hope is to get some photos up here every few days, depending on the internet cafe situation and our technical savvy, given we've decided to leave the laptop behind.

Now, if this final week evaporates as fast as the others, the next thing we know we'll be at the airport and on our way!