Colossal
When in Rome, one must do the Colosseum, and in July, one must do it as early as possible before it reaches max occupancy and stops accepting visitors and those visitors melt in the summer Rome sun. So, we woke early and grabbed what was a delicious, giant, and apparently free buffet in our hotel. Well, no one ever asked us our room number or charged us, so grazie!
After trying and failing to get a cab, I ubered it, which meant we got to ride in Rome to the Colosseum in a sporty Alfa-Romeo driven by a hipster Italian youth with slick hair and aviator sunglasses. Living the dream, people :)
It was a full-sun 90 degree day when we caught up with our tour guide, Fabio--an enthusiastic individual who seemed to speak at least English, Italian, Spanish, and a bit of Japanese. To engage the group, whose names he memorized within moments, he'd pretend to be holding a microphone and interview us. It worked. Oh, and that warthog on the top of his flag is named "Rufus."
Knowing our time was short, we signed up for the "express" Colosseum tour, which meant we got to enter on the floor through a side entrance, skipping the big line-up. In the heat, even the short line proved too much for some, as a couple young women in the group before ours almost passed out and began crying. Add in the constantly scamming water bottle, hat, and fan hucksters as well as the distractions of possible pickpockets. Tourism in Rome is not for the faint of heart (but NYC has trained us well). And, honestly, if you buy a frozen bottle of water that even I can see has dirt in it, that's on you, people. But, I digress.
While we waited, Fabio gave us the 411 on the numbered gates on the Colosseum, noting that a ticketing system like this is obvious to us now but was novel to the Romans. BTW, the numbers back in the day were painted red. Fabio also gave us the trivia that our use of "arena" today exists because the word derives from the Italian for "sand," which covered the Colosseum's wooden floor to absorb the blood from the matches. Fun times.
The size of the Colosseum is amazing, and there it is, just hanging out being history. I noticed graffiti on some of the walls, which Fabio explained was relatively recent (in Italian terms)--like 1600s to 1970s. When he was younger, the Colosseum was still widely open to the public, and kids would come by at night to play soccer and just hang out.
Beautiful, unrelenting sunny blue skies.
And then we were in--through the gate of the defeated.
Much of the Colosseum has been shored up and replaced over the centuries, but you can feel the history as you walk through and imagine it filled with Romans from the emperor in the center to those in the cheap SRO section.
Because the Colosseum is a "must see," staff let groups have a bit of time in each part before moving them along. For example, our group got the right hand side of the floor; another group got the left hand side--any imaginary-line crossers were warned. Later in the morning, a stern voice came over the loudspeaker to report--in three languages--that the Colosseum now was at max capacity of 3,000, and folks should consider wrapping it up so that others could enter. (Get up earlier, people. Your bad planning is not my issue!)
Underground tunnels visible where the floor has not been reconstructed.
Although we see the Colosseum (which takes its name from a colossal statue that once stood outside its gates) as many shades of brown now, back in the day, it was white.
Ah, shade! Actually, out of the sun, it wasn't that bad, with a cooling breeze that flew strongly enough through the arches that it blew my hat off. Not shown: a water refilling station that ran continuously. Good thinking, Roma! Some people drank directly from it. Bad thinking, tourists, get your mouths away from that spigot!
This marble gives an idea of the original white color.
The original flooring was an intricate, hand-patterned herringbone. Cool!
A man apart and his partial horse statue.
Just walking around in history.
Shade!
Each archway in the Colosseum offers an incredible view of the landscape and ancient treasures that surround it. Lovely!
What's left of the Temple of Venus is pictured below. The scaffolding is leftover from a Fendi fashion show (they're helping to fund restoration, so got to put on the kind of event that's hurrying the destruction of these monuments--oh, Italy! you so crazy.)
Posing for the upcoming Temple of Ned.
While the tour was to last 90 minutes, we were hitting minute 120 when we had to leave Fabio and our tourmates so that we could catch our car to the port. Arrivederchi, Colosseum. You look great for someone almost 2,000 years old!
We wouldn't be us if we didn't try to make our way via public transport at least once on a vacation. So, we turned down a 28 Euro taxi (dude, get a grip, we all know that's an 11 Euro ride!) and opted to try the Metro. Ned mastered the ticket machine and we found our route--which even included a transfer!
The trains were clean and filled with delicious air conditioning.
Italy is always stylin'.
We got back to the hotel with enough time to freshen up and grab our luggage, then it was off to the port in Civitavecchia (a bit more than an hour away) to board the Holland America MS Koningsdam.
The boat is huge--the largest we've been on--and is lovely. Embarkation was a breeze, and after getting over some grumpiness about little things (I'm looking at myself with this one), we settled in just fine.
Penn passed out after muster (he actually dozed during it, so we hope there's not a real emergency) and slept the night through. Harper and I had dinner with a view on the quiet side of the buffet restaurant (the Lido) and Ned joined us a bit later.
Then, Harper and I grabbed some loungers to watch the sunset.
Which did not disappoint!
We closed out the night with some snacks by the pool, which was surprisingly quiet.
As we sailed off toward Olympia, we took in our new home for the next 12 days and realized how very lucky we are to be able to take ourselves on such colossal adventures.
We again dined al fresco at a table made for slow Italian meals with seats arranged to overlook the hotel's interior courtyard, complete with too familiar pigeons.
After trying and failing to get a cab, I ubered it, which meant we got to ride in Rome to the Colosseum in a sporty Alfa-Romeo driven by a hipster Italian youth with slick hair and aviator sunglasses. Living the dream, people :)
It was a full-sun 90 degree day when we caught up with our tour guide, Fabio--an enthusiastic individual who seemed to speak at least English, Italian, Spanish, and a bit of Japanese. To engage the group, whose names he memorized within moments, he'd pretend to be holding a microphone and interview us. It worked. Oh, and that warthog on the top of his flag is named "Rufus."
Knowing our time was short, we signed up for the "express" Colosseum tour, which meant we got to enter on the floor through a side entrance, skipping the big line-up. In the heat, even the short line proved too much for some, as a couple young women in the group before ours almost passed out and began crying. Add in the constantly scamming water bottle, hat, and fan hucksters as well as the distractions of possible pickpockets. Tourism in Rome is not for the faint of heart (but NYC has trained us well). And, honestly, if you buy a frozen bottle of water that even I can see has dirt in it, that's on you, people. But, I digress.
While we waited, Fabio gave us the 411 on the numbered gates on the Colosseum, noting that a ticketing system like this is obvious to us now but was novel to the Romans. BTW, the numbers back in the day were painted red. Fabio also gave us the trivia that our use of "arena" today exists because the word derives from the Italian for "sand," which covered the Colosseum's wooden floor to absorb the blood from the matches. Fun times.
The size of the Colosseum is amazing, and there it is, just hanging out being history. I noticed graffiti on some of the walls, which Fabio explained was relatively recent (in Italian terms)--like 1600s to 1970s. When he was younger, the Colosseum was still widely open to the public, and kids would come by at night to play soccer and just hang out.
Beautiful, unrelenting sunny blue skies.
And then we were in--through the gate of the defeated.
Much of the Colosseum has been shored up and replaced over the centuries, but you can feel the history as you walk through and imagine it filled with Romans from the emperor in the center to those in the cheap SRO section.
Next up on today's Colosseum bill: two former Floridians taking on the Rome sun.
Because the Colosseum is a "must see," staff let groups have a bit of time in each part before moving them along. For example, our group got the right hand side of the floor; another group got the left hand side--any imaginary-line crossers were warned. Later in the morning, a stern voice came over the loudspeaker to report--in three languages--that the Colosseum now was at max capacity of 3,000, and folks should consider wrapping it up so that others could enter. (Get up earlier, people. Your bad planning is not my issue!)
Underground tunnels visible where the floor has not been reconstructed.
Although we see the Colosseum (which takes its name from a colossal statue that once stood outside its gates) as many shades of brown now, back in the day, it was white.
Ah, shade! Actually, out of the sun, it wasn't that bad, with a cooling breeze that flew strongly enough through the arches that it blew my hat off. Not shown: a water refilling station that ran continuously. Good thinking, Roma! Some people drank directly from it. Bad thinking, tourists, get your mouths away from that spigot!
Taking ourselves in sensible footwear.
This marble gives an idea of the original white color.
The original flooring was an intricate, hand-patterned herringbone. Cool!
A man apart and his partial horse statue.
Oh, mystical column!
Just walking around in history.
Shade!
Winning the sunglasses gladiator battles--no question.
Each archway in the Colosseum offers an incredible view of the landscape and ancient treasures that surround it. Lovely!
What's left of the Temple of Venus is pictured below. The scaffolding is leftover from a Fendi fashion show (they're helping to fund restoration, so got to put on the kind of event that's hurrying the destruction of these monuments--oh, Italy! you so crazy.)
Posing for the upcoming Temple of Ned.
We wouldn't be us if we didn't try to make our way via public transport at least once on a vacation. So, we turned down a 28 Euro taxi (dude, get a grip, we all know that's an 11 Euro ride!) and opted to try the Metro. Ned mastered the ticket machine and we found our route--which even included a transfer!
The trains were clean and filled with delicious air conditioning.
Italy is always stylin'.
We got back to the hotel with enough time to freshen up and grab our luggage, then it was off to the port in Civitavecchia (a bit more than an hour away) to board the Holland America MS Koningsdam.
The boat is huge--the largest we've been on--and is lovely. Embarkation was a breeze, and after getting over some grumpiness about little things (I'm looking at myself with this one), we settled in just fine.
Penn passed out after muster (he actually dozed during it, so we hope there's not a real emergency) and slept the night through. Harper and I had dinner with a view on the quiet side of the buffet restaurant (the Lido) and Ned joined us a bit later.
Then, Harper and I grabbed some loungers to watch the sunset.
Which did not disappoint!
We closed out the night with some snacks by the pool, which was surprisingly quiet.
As we sailed off toward Olympia, we took in our new home for the next 12 days and realized how very lucky we are to be able to take ourselves on such colossal adventures.
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