We left the house a little later than we'd intended to - about 11:45, but all went well. We headed to Toronto and found that the Economy Park and Fly lot was full and we were upgraded to Valet, which was just fine with us. Once we parked the car, it was an easy thing to go by shuttle to Pearson, take the escalator down and catch a cab to Billy Bishop. There we boarded a ferry (super short) and got all checked in at Billy Bishop. I couldn't help but feel how much friendlier the folks were doing the security checks at a Canadian airport than they usually are in Detroit or Florida! By the time all this happened, I think it was about 5 p.m. and our flight was at 6:15. So we had a little time to kill. Naturally, I spent it mainly on Duolingo, and Caroline spent it on Tumblr. We each had a small bite (genuinely outrageous prices for very bland food, typical airport, but with almost no selection and no chains to resort to with lower prices).
The flight from Toronto to Montreal was completely easy, and despite my unfamiliarity with Dorval, that was a piece of cake, too. We got off, found our gate for the next flight, and headed over to gate #57. We very unwisely decided to wait and eat on the plane because we weren't that hungry.
Boarding the plane took place not too long later - and at first we thought, oh, this isn't bad, at the emergency exit right beside the wing. No. No, that's not a good spot. We were right next to the bathroom and to the flight attendants, and it was a noisy high traffic zone all night. The seats barely recline on any airplane these days, and we could NOT get comfortable or do more than occasionally doze. It was absolutely freezing in the airplane, and that didn't help. And they didn't serve any food till about midnight and when it did come, it wasn't very nice, and there were people waiting to use the bathroom beside us the whole time we were eating. Almost the entire way, the seatbelt light stayed on, and we had mild turbulence. Generally, not a comfortable or a happy flight, and it left Caroline, in particular, really overtired and out of it.
When we got to Rome, everything was pretty straightforward. We went through customs:
"Why do you want to come to Rome?"
"Because it's the most beautiful city in the world!"
That got us a smile and a stamp and sent on our way. We collected our bags (it took us a minute to realize that there were a whole bunch more luggage carrels ahead and then we found it no problem. The handle on the older suitcase broke as soon as I lifted it out, which is unfortunate, but we'll manage, I'm sure. There's still the side handle and the pull handle.
From there, we followed signs for the train, and quite easily bought tickets for the Leonardo Express heading to the train station, all in Italian. We waited about 20 minutes for that train, and took it right to the end. Caroline slept on most of that ride. I watched out the window at all the graffiti (tons) alongside the train ride, feeling sick at the risks people take to do graffiti on an active train line with no room to move if a train is coming, and catching glimpses of things around us as we moved into the city. I noticed that most of the housing along the tracks wasn't that nice (never is where train tracks are) but that almost every balcony had flowers.
Caroline was so tired and we were both a little overwhelmed that I chickened out at this stage and just took a cab to the B&B. We gawked about a bit on the way in, and then got dropped off at a door I recognized from Google Maps. Unfortunately, there was no reply at the door. I was a bit disconcerted. A couple of women coming in let us out of the blistering (oh my LORD) heat into the area between the doors where it was mercifully a bit cooler, but wouldn't let us into the apartment (I understood that, of course). We rang again, unsuccessfully, and then dug out the itinerary and called the woman who runs it. No answer, just a long trail of Italian too fast for me, with the number confirmed at the end and something that was clearly, "leave a message." Tentatively, I did. THANK YOU, Cheryl, for giving me the updated number. A young man let us into the main part of the apartment a few minutes later so we got our bags out of the way, at least, and then waited, a bit disconsolate, in the hallway. Altogether, I think we waited about an hour, and were just SO hot and thirsty. Then the hostess came flying in and down the hall full of apologies because she had been stuck in traffic and Rome is insane, and she let us in. The B&B looked like a peaceful haven, and we couldn't get out into a shower quickly enough after checking in. All was relief. We were told to get a bus to Victor Emmanuel and then walk to the Colosseum from there, and we did that, but took a wrong turn and ended up on the wrong side of the Forum. Before we left, I had said that I didn't quite see how you had to buy a ticket for the Forum as it all looked entirely open. Nope! It's in a giant ravine, all surrounded by high barriers.
The Basilica was actually fairly small, with very few pews. It was quiet. There were many women with their shoulders bare. I was surprised. The first thing we saw was a tomb monument on the side wall with a skeleton on it...
Just a little creepy! There was no explanatory plaque. There was another one that was rather similar quite close to it.
We worked our way in and saw the altar, and the box of chains that are purportedly the ones in which Peter was brought to Rome as a captive (hence the name of the church. San Pietro in Vincoli - Saint Peter in Chains). There were some beautiful, albeit faded, frescoes behind the altar, and then, there was Michelangelo's Moses off to the right - with a coin box where you could stick in a euro to light him up. We were, alas, as yet unequipped with any coins, so he stayed quietly dim for us.
This particular fresco was interesting to us, because it illustrated that technique we'd been reading about recently in our art book about using time in a single portrait. In the background, to the right, behind bars, we see the angel visiting Peter (fantastic lighting) behind the carousing guards. But then there's a barrier to the left, moving to the door, and we see Peter again (blue and yellow, always, for Peter!) being escorted out of the prison - this time, more to the foreground. The artists tended to use varying distances to indicate different scenes, and to set up with a wall almost as a different frame in the story, like a cartoon.
Michelangelo loved this statue. From what I've read, he thought it was his best sculpture.
We were positively drenched at that point, the church being very little cooler than it was outdoors. We decided to walk to the Trevi Fountain area and have supper, but Caroline was feeling pretty wobbly and wasn't sure she could really eat. We walked part way and stopped at a sit down restaurant (no cover) for a gelato and some water. They only had one coconut gelato left! (They served them in coconut half-shells) and so I let Caroline have it and she let me have some divine spoonfuls. The other flavour was pineapple, which sometimes upsets my stomach, and chocolate, which I thought might feel too dry and bitter on the tongue after we finished eating). We downed almost all of a litre of water. We'd been carrying small water bottles, but it helped to have cold.
Thus fortified, we carried on, down streets, up and down stairs - we have a new motto for Rome - C'è sempra un'altra collia!" (There's always another hill!) And if not, we guarantee, there will be some stairs. Yikes. We worked our way, asking directions twice, the two km to the Trevi Fountain. And were so disappointed at what we found:
We absolutely declined to throw a coin over our shoulders to hear it ping on the ground behind us in a drained fountain. We tried to tell ourselves that we are glad they are restoring and maintaining it, and of course we are, but….sigh.
Much discouraged, we got very shaky directions (because we kept feeling very turned around in the map, and because streets always open up in an array around us instead of off at right angles, and because THEY NAME ALLEYS, and only half the streets seem to have signs posted with their names) and wended our way to the Hostaria Romana. We managed to get ourselves oriented on the map and figure out that yes, all was going to plan and we were nearly there - and then we were! We were accosted briefly by a hawker with the most pathetic wares (a squishy…thing…that you throw SPLAT onto the ground, where it whines thinly and then gradually re-inflates into a repulsive ball, and some nasty puppet thing that gyrated to "Gangem Style." REALLY???) and then we were in the door. A supremely crowded restaurant with writing ALL OVER THE WALLS everywhere from patrons who had visited before. We were beamed at and asked if we have a reservation (they said "reservazione" instead of "prenozione." I was surprised.) We confessed that we had not, but that "la mia amica mi ha detto che è veramenta il posto a mangiare in Rome!" (which I think was relatively badly put, but said, "My friend told me this was truly the place to eat in Rome!") - and they laughed, and found us a table, casually whisking off a "reserved" sign. Sorry, somebody, if we made you wait!
I think this was the point where everything slowed down for us and got dreamy and weary. We barely made conversation, and listened, a bit sad, to a conversation beside us between a father and his teenaged/young adult daughter about how her mother had (apparently just) left them, all the while trying not to really eavesdrop, but they were so close. In fact, I think Caroline was a little too out of it to notice much. In any case. The cameriere brought us a little sample of some mashed potato rolled in bread crumbs that was quite tasty, and a few minutes later, another man in a suit brought us another plate of the same thing. I think that was a mistake, but we guiltily ate it anyway. We ordered saltimbucco and the popular cheese with pepper I kept hearing talked about. A bread basket arrived a few minutes later (yes, there was a small charge for it) without any butter or oil, but it was tasty and we each had a piece. A few minutes after that, we were given a small sample bowl ("to taste, to taste," the cameriere said as he put it down on the table next to us afterwards) of….I think he said boccadini. They were rather fat spaghetti noodles that were hollow like straws, in a very small amount of tomato sauce with cheese. I promptly wished that I had ordered it. We gobbled the sample.
Both the saltimbocca and the cheese and pepper dish were incredibly salty. Very tasty, but very, very salty. We were already thirsty, so we had no trouble getting through the entire litre of water again. And then, quite suddenly, before we'd eaten more than 2/3 of the two plates we were sharing, we were suddenly feeling entirely full and just….done. We had nothing left to give the evening. At that point, it was nine o'clock, and we'd been up for….well, that would be 3 p.m. at home…so, for the better part of 32 hours with just dozing here and there on the plane. I'm sure the No Jet Lag helped us get through the day, but that was all we had.
We took a taxi back to the B&B again. I have a MASSIVE blister on my left food (despite being in my runners, not my sandals) and didn't feel like limping any further before I had a piece of moleskin on, and Caroline was almost asleep in her plate.
When we got there, we could NOT get the key to work in the apartment door, and no one was on site (we seem to be the only ones here). I tried over and over. The locks turned, but the door didn't open. I was baffled. We heard voices in the apartment next door - the B&B is one huge apartment that spans two floors but there are other residences next door to it. I knocked, apologized profusely, and actually explained with relative ease that I couldn't get the key to work. I didn't understand anything she said back to me after "Hang on, I'm just going to get my shoes," (which struck me as funny because she literally had to step three steps from her door to ours, God bless her). She got her shoes, stepped three steps, turned the lock, turned it again, turned it back the other way, and presto - it opened. I have no idea what magic she worked, but I have to get additional training this morning before we leave.
We opened the door and it was PITCH BLACK inside. No one there, and we couldn't find a light switch. We were very thankful for the tour we'd received, and the fact that it wasn't very crowded. We actually made it through two rooms and down a hallway in utter darkness and found our room, fumbled for the lock, unlocked it and got inside, where we STILL couldn't find a lightswitch for a minute or two…it was a bit funny - there was a window so it wasn't quite as dark in our room.
I think Caroline was sound asleep three minutes after we got in. She showered, and collapsed on the bed and I didn't hear from her again until 6:45, when a garbage or recycling truck woke us up. She collapsed back in bed again a few minutes later.
I woke twice in the night drenched in sweat because the air conditioning wouldn't open instructions and stay on. I turned it on again this morning and now it's actually cold in the room.
Our alarm will go off in 20 minutes, and after breakfast, we'll head over to the Vatican for our tour. Because we accomplished relatively little yesterday, our to-do list needs some editing and revision and we'll have to make some choices! We only have today and tomorrow and then we have to move on to Sorrento.
I have to say - for all my anxiety about pushy thieves - so far, everything has been tranquil and quite polite. A few people have tried to push things on us - someone put a budgie on Caroline as we walked by the Forum - that was odd. But he didn't come near her - he put the budgie on her with a stick, and took it back right away when I got mother hennish. Someone pushed roses at us in line for the dismal Trevi Fountain viewing - but really, what are we supposed to do with a rose while walking around? And then the wretched toys. No one was very bothersome, and over and over again, people have been polite and helpful when we asked. And the Italian is working!
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