Buongiorno, Roma!
This summer's vacation began with Harper's desire to go to Greece--really, Santorini. A desire borne, of all things, by the Mamma Mia! movies (the popularity of which apparently extends far beyond the Rose set). So, we decided to make it an early (very early) graduation gift and set about researching a cruise that would take in as much of Greece as possible and that worked with her existing commitment to be a camp counselor. Which is why we booked a 12 night cruise with Holland America that had only two sea days and visited almost every island (including Santorini) and took in a bit of Italy, too. Over several months, I tracked flights on Google, researched excursions, and read reviews, and by July 5, we were ready to make the trek to Toronto to grab our direct flight to Rome.
Something happened in those eight plus hours in the air though. Maybe it was the stormy harbinger of Kawhi's decision to bolt from the Raptors to the Clippers, but the flight was very turbulent, stopping service at times. At one point, that ominous, "Is there a doctor on board," message went out. Perhaps never having been on a plane, the guy behind us decided to leave his seat with his blanket and pillow and attempt to sleep in a corner by the exit door. The guy next to me paused First Man on his video screen for almost the entire flight so that a profile of Ryan Gosling was always looking in my direction. And, Harper and I got sick after eating dinner. Exhausted, sweaty, and pretty much out of it, I literally fell asleep in the airplane bathroom for a bit until an air pocket jogged me awake. I got some Tums from Ned, and then spent the rest of the flight with my blanket wrapped around my head to block out the world; Harper just kind of blacked out and turned pretty pale. So, when we landed in Rome, making the not one but two excursions I booked for the day seemed more dream than reality. We decided to cancel tour one (3 and a half hours in the Rome catacombs: amazing, ambitious, and not-going-to-happen).
We made our way to the Hotel Quirinale--about an hour before our rooms were ready. We took up residence in various lobbies of the lovely old hotel, with Harper sleeping in a chair. I took note of some refreshments abandoned after a morning meeting and nicked a bottle of cool water to tide us over.
By 2:30, just one of our two rooms was ready, but that was good enough. We lined up on the bed and crashed (that empty space between Penn and Harper had moments before been occupied by me). We slept for 4 hours straight, seemingly not moving an inch the whole time.
By the time we pulled ourselves out of our jet lagged stupor, we were all feeling much better but also crazy hungry. I found a unicorn in a pasta restaurant, Mama Eat, that serves a full gluten- and lactose-free menu, and we grabbed a taxi to zip across Rome, zig zagging through streets that were barely wide enough for a couple bikes and round abouts with rules that must be passed down through Italian dna.
Ah, sugar and caffeine--that does the trick, especially when dining al fresco on a tiny Rome alley-street.
The faces of a girl enjoying gf/lf real Italian bruschette. Yum! Honestly, we agreed we would live in that brightly flavored, salty, olive oil-y tomato topping!
I'd have eaten ten of these Tiramisus if my tummy weren't so pasta-filled.
All throughout our meal, we could hear music coming from a nearby square, so we wandered our carb-loaded selves down the cobblestones to find out what was happening.
What did we find but another square graced by a fountain, a church silhouetted against a ridiculously velvety blue sky, and a fire eater/limboer/aerobics instructor ... because Roma.
We had one more place to visit before we called it a great night. I must have seen Three Coins in the Fountain about 100 times, and I couldn't visit Rome without seeing the Trevi Fountain. Our taxi driver warned us, "you're going from a crowded place to a very crowded place," but in for a Euro, in for more Euros. It did not disappoint.
The marble of the fountain is incredibly white and the water a lovely shade of aqua. Penn noted that it could be a Disney water park. The square is dwarfed by its size and by the size of crowd, which was at least six deep, all watched over by semi-automatic equipped Italian soldiers. We didn't care. Still pure Roma-magic!
As the clock struck 11, we grabbed a randomly-priced taxi back to the hotel, which was like old-Rome come to shabby-chic life. Although it was our home for just one night, we loved it.
Buonanotte, Roma! You may be the eternal city, but we're only giving you about 24 hours, and you're really making the most of them!
Something happened in those eight plus hours in the air though. Maybe it was the stormy harbinger of Kawhi's decision to bolt from the Raptors to the Clippers, but the flight was very turbulent, stopping service at times. At one point, that ominous, "Is there a doctor on board," message went out. Perhaps never having been on a plane, the guy behind us decided to leave his seat with his blanket and pillow and attempt to sleep in a corner by the exit door. The guy next to me paused First Man on his video screen for almost the entire flight so that a profile of Ryan Gosling was always looking in my direction. And, Harper and I got sick after eating dinner. Exhausted, sweaty, and pretty much out of it, I literally fell asleep in the airplane bathroom for a bit until an air pocket jogged me awake. I got some Tums from Ned, and then spent the rest of the flight with my blanket wrapped around my head to block out the world; Harper just kind of blacked out and turned pretty pale. So, when we landed in Rome, making the not one but two excursions I booked for the day seemed more dream than reality. We decided to cancel tour one (3 and a half hours in the Rome catacombs: amazing, ambitious, and not-going-to-happen).
We made our way to the Hotel Quirinale--about an hour before our rooms were ready. We took up residence in various lobbies of the lovely old hotel, with Harper sleeping in a chair. I took note of some refreshments abandoned after a morning meeting and nicked a bottle of cool water to tide us over.
By 2:30, just one of our two rooms was ready, but that was good enough. We lined up on the bed and crashed (that empty space between Penn and Harper had moments before been occupied by me). We slept for 4 hours straight, seemingly not moving an inch the whole time.
By the time we pulled ourselves out of our jet lagged stupor, we were all feeling much better but also crazy hungry. I found a unicorn in a pasta restaurant, Mama Eat, that serves a full gluten- and lactose-free menu, and we grabbed a taxi to zip across Rome, zig zagging through streets that were barely wide enough for a couple bikes and round abouts with rules that must be passed down through Italian dna.
Ah, sugar and caffeine--that does the trick, especially when dining al fresco on a tiny Rome alley-street.
The faces of a girl enjoying gf/lf real Italian bruschette. Yum! Honestly, we agreed we would live in that brightly flavored, salty, olive oil-y tomato topping!
The food was amazing (pastas on point and a perfectly crusted calzone), the service langorous (ah, Roma! arrivederchi, tour two--a ghost walk of Rome), and the traffic remarkably close.
I'd have eaten ten of these Tiramisus if my tummy weren't so pasta-filled.
All throughout our meal, we could hear music coming from a nearby square, so we wandered our carb-loaded selves down the cobblestones to find out what was happening.
For the record, while the outskirts of Rome clearly show the damage of a struggling economy and a chaotic political climate, so much of the central city of Rome may as well have been a set from a movie. Eat pasta in a hidden cafe, follow the sound of music to a suddenly appearing jazz band playing under a streetlight in a picturesquely grafftii'd square while locals throw open their shutters to listen in the night and the twinkling lights beckon you to even more adventures.
What did we find but another square graced by a fountain, a church silhouetted against a ridiculously velvety blue sky, and a fire eater/limboer/aerobics instructor ... because Roma.
We had one more place to visit before we called it a great night. I must have seen Three Coins in the Fountain about 100 times, and I couldn't visit Rome without seeing the Trevi Fountain. Our taxi driver warned us, "you're going from a crowded place to a very crowded place," but in for a Euro, in for more Euros. It did not disappoint.
The marble of the fountain is incredibly white and the water a lovely shade of aqua. Penn noted that it could be a Disney water park. The square is dwarfed by its size and by the size of crowd, which was at least six deep, all watched over by semi-automatic equipped Italian soldiers. We didn't care. Still pure Roma-magic!
Denied the ability to cool off by jumping in the fountain, we turned instead to a nearby gelato shop, grabbing a strawberry and a mint plus this shot of its amazing chandelier.
As the clock struck 11, we grabbed a randomly-priced taxi back to the hotel, which was like old-Rome come to shabby-chic life. Although it was our home for just one night, we loved it.
Buonanotte, Roma! You may be the eternal city, but we're only giving you about 24 hours, and you're really making the most of them!
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