Roman Holiday

Ciao!  We arrived in Rome last night, following a cushy flight from Tel Aviv.  El Al is terrific, even after an almost 2-hour delay and a plane switch (we upgraded from a 737 to a 767 and had lots of leg room and extra seats…plus a good dinner.)

Spent the night last night again at the Hilton Airport, where we were told “wifi is free in public areas” which would have been nice if we could connect.  Ah, the trials we go through.

Again, our plan was to take the free Hilton shuttle downtown to get near the Coliseum where our next hotel is, but alas.  This time the shuttle couldn’t drop us there because of “demonstrations.”  Thankfully, Jim had a Plan B, and we took the metro instead.

 

Walking up and out of the underground, Jim was the first to spy the Coliseum and pointed it out to Dave.  Later Dave remarked that, “after all the pictures, and having taught about that thing for four years, I’m finally here!”

 

Also here were the demonstrators, marching towards us from the left side of the Coliseum and down the street.  Big-gun toting police were everywhere, the demonstrators looked like normal people all carrying flags and banners, so ignoring all travel advice to steer clear of such happenings, we headed straight for them.  Dragging our suitcases and following the blue dot, we kept on walking until we parted company a few blocks yonder and found our little hotel.

The Arena Guest House is on Marcus Aurelius street, and is run by two of the sweetest Italian ladies in the whole world.  They greeted us warmly, shook each of our hands, offered us water and the WC, stowed our luggage, gave us recommendations on restaurants and bus lines, and finally warned us, “if anyone ask you show your passport, say no!  Italian police no do that.  Only pickpockets!”  Got it!

After our Galilee days we’ve gone soft in the feet.  Today we broke ’em in again by walking around the Coliseum, taking one more metro ride to Spanish Steps (covered in scaffolding, they weren’t picture-worthy this time), then walking to Trevi Fountain, the Turtle Fountain, the Jewish Ghetto, and the oldest synagogue in Rome.  Then, back again to our hotel past Circus Maximus, and other old stuff.   Ruins, we’ve come to understand, are like debris.  They’re everywhere — columns, arches, cobblestones, pavers, doorways, statues of Caesars.  We’ll be walking down a street and bam! there’s another “old thing.”  Some old things are marked; others aren’t.

Trevi Fountain was built to celebrate Rome’s acquisition of a clean water supply via the aqueduct system.  Now famous as a “romantic spot” it is overrun by people throwing coins over their shoulders, kissing, and taking scads of pictures.  Jane was scolded here for *ahem!* standing on the concrete thingy to take a photo.  Poor Jane.  She’s gotten into so much trouble this trip!  You’ll have to ask her about how to dress modestly in certain religious buildings, and how to grab her metro ticket when it pops up out of the validator-thingy.

Charlie and Virginia — we thought of you today as we found that little gelato shop near the Pantheon, and ate some for lunch while sitting on the steps!

Lastly, we took a turn around the neighborhood tonight looking for dinner and settled on a place with outdoor seating and….pasta.  And, pizza.  Some of us learned that in Italy you should really order one pizza per person so you don’t have to ask your wifey if you can eat her last bite because she will say “no!”

 

 

 

 

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