Rome

I’m sitting in the Dubai airport for an almost five hour layover and just had a mediocre marguerite pizza and Caesar salad. I have yet to enjoy the food I get at this airport. I suppose airports are notorious for their bad food, but you’d think with all the glitzy lights, shiny railings and floors, glass walls and upscale stores, their food here would be a little better. Maybe I’m just a little spoiled too after spending a couple of days in Rome.

First lesson learned: If you’re going to visit Rome, stay in ROME! I thought I’d go budget and save on the hotel. Bad decision. I stayed at a little hotel called Hotel Del Mare, right on the beach. The beds were too hard, there were strange smells throughout the hotel, my room phone didn’t work, and worst of all, the TV remote (hence the TV) didn’t work, and horror of horrors, the WI/FI didn’t reach my room. So, to get online I had to go down into the dining area. When I told the management about it, they were understanding and eventually, last night, I was able to move to a room that had WI/FI. Nevertheless, they’ve known about the problem for some time and still haven’t fixed it. Shrug…

So, it’s a nice little hotel that would really be wonderful in the warmer months. There’s a rooftop terrace, hot tub, and off room veranda with views of the ocean. The advertisement states that you can listen to the sounds of the waves lapping the shore. That’s true so long as you can filter out the sounds of backfiring mufflers, laughing diners at 1 in the morning, and the general traffic. I had to close the veranda door. The sound of lapping waves on the shore just wasn’t worth it. Still, compared to the hotel in Nagarkot, Nepal…

So, the lesson. Transportation in Italy isn’t cheap. There is the local stuff, which I used as best I could. And, it was free. However, if you’re in somewhat of a hurry and need to be somewhere at a certain time, you have to use the more expensive transportation. In the end, I think I spent more on the transportation than I saved on the cheap hotel. And, I had less time in Rome as I was waiting for the local shuttle bus to show up. Note to self, if I ever go back to Rome, take the direct train into Rome from the airport and stay at a hotel someplace close to Rome Termini station. There’s a nifty little moped rental shop not more than a block from the station that I found that brings Rome to your veritable throttle hand.

This was my ride. Rather smashing don’t you think? I had a hard time keeping the front wheel on the road. The roar of this thing… All 50 CCs of her. I had to really push it, but I got 60 KPH out of her, downhill, drafting behind a bus. I know, pretty crazy, but, when in Rome…

This is at the train station. It’s easy to misconstrue an everyday conversation for an argument here. These two taxi drivers were practically yelling at each other, pointing fingers and gesturing. Only to abruptly complete their conversation with “ciao”, “ciao, gratzi”. I think the Italians have perfected the art of conversation. They have so much practice. Everywhere you go, people are standing around talking. While waiting for a shuttle, I overheard two old men and a third younger man talk for almost an hour in an animated and energetic fashion. It was fun to watch. I wished I could speak, even a little Italian so I could know what was so interesting. If the Olympics ever includes street talking as a sport, the Italians will win it every time.

This is the view on the beach in front of the hotel. The little guy on the right wandered around the whole time. Sometimes he’d wander into the hotel, sometimes into the restaurant below, sometimes just around the beach. He was ever present. Still haven’t figured out what he was doing. But, everyone seemed to know him and chatted him up nicely wherever he went.

There is a free local bus from the beach front to the airport. Fortunately, one of the people at the hotel was very helpful and told me about it. It’s nowhere in the tour guides I have and the tourist information desk knew nothing about it. But, it was a lifesaver. The first night when I landed, the tourist desk was terribly unhelpful. I asked where I could catch a bus to my hotel. They didn’t know the hotel. I gave them the address. Still didn’t know. Well, “could they tell me how to get to city center of Fiumacino?” “You take the bus outside.” “Which bus?” “The one going to Fiumacino.” “Oh, why didn’t I think of that!” I ended up walking the first day. I had a map and knew the general direction of the hotel from the airport, and I’d seen the layout of the city from the airplane coming in. So, what was essentially two miles as the crow flies turned out to be about a 4 mile hike. It’s OK, I needed to stretch my legs anyway and the exercise felt great. But, it’s not something I wanted to repeat and this little shuttle was just the ticket. When they let me off at the airport, I took this picture just so I wouldn’t forget where to stand and catch the shuttle back to Fiumacino. Never mind that the shuttle didn’t come back that day and after waiting for an hour I ended up hiring a shuttle service. So, if you’re lucky enough to catch it, the free shuttle is great. But, it appears to be a bit unpredictable. By now, I’m really wishing I’d have just taken a hotel in Rome proper…

OK, Rome is very interesting. Most large cities I’ve been in pulse with their own unique vibe. Rome was no exception. There is so much history here, it’s overwhelming in no time. Historic treasures that might be considered national monuments in another country seem blasé as just one of many here. I realized this when visiting the Pantheon (after seeing St. Peter’s and some of the other larger and more impressive architectural wonders) and thinking to myself, “Is that all? Is that it?”

There are fountains everywhere. Carvings, statues, ancient walls, museums, historical sites, mausoleums, reliefs and you name it just about everywhere you look here. It turns out that zipping around on a moped is about the best way to see a bunch of it in two days. While I certainly didn’t get a deep explanation or historical background on any of it, I did get a really good sense of the scale of Rome. It’s easy to get lost here. There’s a reason all roads lead to Rome. Because, if they happen to find their way to Rome, they can’t find their way back out again. I got lost more times than I can remember. But, that was part of the fun.

Here’s a couple of pictures of the Pantheon. It’s beautiful. I peaked inside, but didn’t want to brave the crowds. The art work is beautiful inside. Wish I’d have taken a picture, but was too busy looking.

One of the fountains. I didn’t catch the name. Took this on the moped as I rode by. :)

Disclaimer: By the way, this won’t be educational. Pure eye candy is all. I didn’t stop to take notes much. I had my hot rod moped to get back to and didn’t really do much of anything other than ride, look and take some pictures.

“Can anyone name this monument boys and girls?”

   “It’s the coliseum!”

“Wrong!”

    “It’s called the Colosso, and don’t forget it.”

See, I’m already becoming an Italian purist. The “Collosso” is important because, well, it’s THE monument people most think about when they think of Rome right? It’s also important because I could use it as a navigation point. I knew how to get to the train station from here, so if I could find the collosso, I could get home. So, I’d yell out to people on the road as I was trying to find my way back to the train station “Collosso?”. They’d take a second, get their bearings and then say, pointing with their entire arm, “That way” or the word that I never understood that they always said that I think meant go straight down this road. Then they’d say, “ask again.” Obviously, these Romans have this whole giving directions to tourists thing down. What they’re really doing is telling the tourist to “go just far enough to where I can’t see you anymore and you can’t find me again so you’ll leave me alone.” Maybe that’s why half the time I was going in the wrong direction. Isn’t this fun!?

Sometimes I’d be surprised and the person I would ask actually spoke some English, or more surprising, spoke perfect English. The one time I almost fell off my super powered motor scooter when I asked “Collosso!?” and the smart looking young man with the stilettoed girlfriend responded, “I’m pretty sure it’s right down this road here. Take a left after a kilometer and follow that road for another kilometer.” What fun is that? How am I supposed to get lost in Rome with directions like that? For crying out loud.

There’s some writing on the side of the wall here. Not sure what it says, but I’m positive it’s something very inspirational. Ride on!

OK, these guys are like the equivalent of the royal guards with the tall furry hats in England. They just stand there looking good. And I mean, boy, did they look good. Me, being, well, me. Wanted to see what the limits of their attention would be. It was obvious through various means I have, powers of observation if you will, that there were certain things I wasn’t supposed to do. For example, it was abundantly clear that I wasn’t supposed to sit on the steps. There’s a guy who’s job it is to tell people to stand up if they are sitting on the stairs. By the way, there were vatican police who rode around in a little scooter and told them to stand up if they were sitting in St. Peter’s square as well. What do these guys have against sitting anyway? Well, I do digress.

So, I wanted to see what these soldiers would do if I stepped over the line a bit. I could see them getting a little nervous as I approached the stairs in front of them. Then, I wandered over to the side where there was a large relief just high enough to rest my elbow. Ever so gently, I placed my elbow on the the corner of it. Immediately, the soldier on the right tensed up, his eyes shot to the soldiers standing a few feet away from me. Some sort of signal they have worked out I’m sure. What that actually meant was, “Stinking tourist is touching the goods again. Will you please do your job and keep him off the relief?” Immediately the guards turned, looked at me and gestured to move my arm. I got the message, and besides, those spears looked real. I’m just sure there’s some sort of archaic law that says if annoying tourists are touching the historic artifacts, it’s OK to spear them like a pig. I felt I’d pushed my luck enough and moved on.

All seriousness aside, this is perhaps the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen, at least in a long, long time. It rates right up there with Jeff Bernhardt’s home made play dough, Tyson’s bucky ball designs and Amanda’s potato soup. I mean, this place is da bomb! In all seriousness, I was frankly overwhelmed with this place. It’s really quite, well, words fail me here, but, overwhelming. The photos simply do not do it justice. For example, that horse and rider statue in the middle, just the statue has to be about 3 stories tall. I know, it doesn’t look that big, but just the statue is massive. Trust me! I remember looking at this castle at the mouth of the river in Lisbon, Portugal. I was amazed at the work that went into that place. This far surpasses that in both workmanship, size, architecture and pure magnificence. One could spend literally a whole day just learning about this place. But, I didn’t. My ride was waiting and there was more to see.

This is some church or chapel that sits adjacent to the structure above on the same piazza. I should know what it’s called, but don’t. I wanted to investigate it more, but they were doing construction work around it and I got scared off by the lines. Besides, there are about 50 of these kinds of buildings in Rome…

This is a view of St. Peters Basilica from the piazza. The picture, again, betrays the scale and beauty of this place.

Ahhh, fresh, cool, tasty acqua. When in Rome, do what the Romans do. So, I washed my face, and hands in this water and then took a drink. It was very good tasting and filled my bottle with it as well.

Vatican guard. Myeeaahhh. Seen one, you’ve seen them all. His spear looked even sharper than the soldiers’. So, I moved along pretty quickly.

Not sure who this is supposed to be, maybe Peter? Maybe Moses? Can’t tell, is that the ten commandments in his hand. I just liked how massive and well adorned he is. His hands are almost as big as mine.

Not much different than Disneyland. Both are AKA lineland.

OK, seriously folks. How did this get complete without lovely physical therapists and chiropractors to fix the artists necks? I mean, come on! Beautiful, simply astoundingly beautiful.

This has to be seen in person to be appreciated, I think.

This is a statue of St. Peter. Don’t know if you can tell, but his feet are worn down from the centuries of people walking by touching them and saying prayers. I walked up and touched his feet too, but didn’t say a prayer. I noticed a lot of keys in the sculptures and other artwork around Peter. His feet were lovely, if they were a bit flat.

One of the popes is laid to rest here in this sarcophagus. Felt sort of odd walking around where a bunch of the popes were resting. Reminded me of my days living at Deseret Mortuary, sort of.  Not sure how I feel about according men such long honors in death. Feels a little like the pyramids.

Well, that’s about it for the first day. I’ll post more later. This one is getting a bit long and I’ve probably lost most of my five readers by now anyway.