I will walk 500 miles....
After another delicious hostel breakfast (I ate with a darling Aussie girl who has been travelling since May and who tromps around in a pair of Wellies all over town) I went to my room to put on some relaxing clothes - nothing too strenous today was the plan. The jail guard was just pulling on some clothes. In a slurry voice she informed that she was still drunk but that she was getting up for breakfast so that she could sober up a bit so that she could see the Pope. (Apparently the upcoming Pope excursion did not matter last night when she started drinking)
See! The! Pope! I had not done that yet. What a prime idea! I found my Aussie friend and told her where I was planning to go, and she grabbed two other people from the hostel and we set off for the Vatican. I was the only one who knew where anything was, so I was the leader of the expedition (although I must confess they thought I was a couple of years younger than I really am...one of the girls is only 18 and I know how old 27 looks to 18!).
Now we are four
The Termini station was absolutely packed, and the metro more so. I was surprised that so many people came out every week to hear the pope speak, but what did I know. There were so many people, in fact, that the police would not let us all enter the subway. We had to wait and wait and when we finally reached the platform it too was a seething mass of PEOPLE. I warned everyone that we had to stay together, and that when the train would arrive everyone would push. And that they would have to push too, or we would be separated. Everyone Agreed, and the first train arrived. The crowd surged forward, and we got closer to the edge of the platform, but it was not until the second train that we were all able to slip onto the train.
Three on the train
Tom did not push hard enough. As the train pulled away we saw him outside, looking forlorn. Now, I realize that it is a bit harder for a guy to put his hand in a girl´s face and shove her away from the open door, but the rest of us managed.
We stopped again and again and no-one got off. Finally, at piazza del popolo, 2 stops from the Vaticano, the crown (many of whom were wrapped in flags of bearing banners) streamed off the train. I wondered if perhaps the speech was here. I did not really think so, but the girls did, and better to let them be wrong than to be wrong myself. We pushed and followed the crowd up the stairs and into the Piazza.
There were thousands of people there, but this gathering looked a little too political to be about the Pope. One of the Aussies talked Italian (or so she said), however I did not once hear her actually say anything in Italian. So, as usual, I asked someone where we could find the pope. They explained that this was a rally. O-kay...
Suddenly someone rushed up to us.
¨So you hate Berlusconi?¨ she cried in jubilant English.
Hate Bulesconi?? We did not even know Bulesconi! We told her that and hurried away.
**
It was a 30 minute walk to the Vatican, but we hurried there. We were almost there when we met a friend of one of the aussies (they recognized her rainboots). A Canadian from Toronto! She joined us and we reached the Vatican and pressed into the crown of thousands as the Pope leaned out onto his balcony and began to speak.
The crowd was divided into two sets: The ones who wanted to hear what the Pope had to say, and the ones who wanted the snapshot of the Pope and then who wanted to get on with their day. They pushed to take the shot and pushed to get out of the crowd. At one point an Aussie lady gave me a shove and I protested that there was nowhere to go, wo why push past me.
¨There is somehwere to go,¨ she answered, ¨If you SHOVE¨.
I agreed. I shoved her husband in turn as he passed by, and stepped into his way. She is right. There IS somewhere to go when you shove.
After the Pope spoke and blessed in Latin and Italian, he spoke about the India earthquake in English and about how welcome all the Germans were in Deutsch. Very lingually-talented, this Pope, although it was tres strange to hear him speaking English with a German accent!
We decided to leave before the crowd, and we were off...
Two to Go
...And all of a sudden the wellington-boot Aussie had disappeared! We waited and we looked, she and her friend were nowhere to be found. Too bad, really, but the crowd was streaming out, so we excaped on foot from the Vatican area.
On the sprint to the Vatican, we had passed the most adorable store, named after a pumpkin, with mousing clothing and hippo pencil cases. They were overprised, but fun to look at. Then we went for Gelato, and started the long, long walk back into the city centre (I was not so keen on walking, but for once the day was sunny and exercise is good, right? Even THAT much exercise)
We walked accross the river and through the rally square, where there were still signs and banners and huge balloons. We saw the Spanish stairs and threw coins in the Trevi fountain. (Three, like the song!) We bought pop in a cute little stoor that had genuine Absynthe. Like in Moulan Rouge. With the Wormwood in it, which is illegal in Canada I believe. I really wanted to buy some. I don´t usually drink, but it looked so NEAT and flourescent! However, the prospect of carrying the absynthe for the rest of my trip did not appeal to me.
The two of us dodged the annoying sellers of bubble-guns and rubber toys and walked through the windey cobblestones to a bird-fortune seller. I had mentioned this in another post - budgies who picked fortunes. I love holding cute budgies, and I have never OWNED a green one... *hint hint*. As far as I can translate, my furtune says:
You have a good spirit, but nobody knows it. You will receive something you desire, however it will some in the guise of misfortune, however it will end up being good. Your destiny - you will suffer badness in business, but all will wass. You will be lucky. You will be known by many, but you will be content and knowing your rival will come to you. You will live 99 years. Lotto numbers: 13-28-39
Wow, I sure know a lot of Italian! Anyway, after the bird lady (who tried to charge the Aussie double as she had held more birds and from whom we fianlly ran away) we went to the Pantheon. I have been to the Pantheon before, but every time it is anazing. It is possibly the best thing to see in Rome. As I mentioned before, there is an open hole in the ceiling, and the sun was shining right through it. Today the Church looked very Pagan. I adore the Pantheon.
We continued along the streets, popping into churches as we passed them. In one of them, right beside the Pantheon and behind the Elephant Obelsik, was a church (The Basilica de s. Maria Sophia Minerva) with the original Michaelangelo statue of Christ. Wow, is that ninja turtle talented! It is truly a magnificant statue. I have nothing to say about the poor man´s absent genetalia (wasn´t crucifying him bad enough? Did the church need to replace his chiseled member with a crudely-cut of-colour laurel leaf?), however the stature is Real Art. I love Art! The ceiling of the church was painted blue, with stars twinking down.
On the altar was a tomb (rare for it to be a woman). Perhaps that was Marie Sophia Minerva?
We looked at some of the shops, and at one I almost bought a 5E tank top. It was a really hot day, and I was wearing a long-sleeved shirt and a coat. However, when I asked to try it on I was told that it was ¨impossibile¨. I gestured to the empty dressing rooms and inquired why. The salesman repeated ¨impossibile¨. I pressed the matter and was told that since it was only 5E I did not warrent the usage of the dressing rooms. Hm! Forget that. store.
Afterwards we hiked down the street to the Cat Sanctuary, where the stray cats of Rome live. I had mentioned this before - how in Rome they spay or neuter and then dump all of the stray cats in some runis where they live and fight and try to mate happily. We watched the kitties for awhile, and listened to an English tour go on nearby.
Um...Was that ME?
The next story is of my HUMILIATION. We were sitting there peering down at the ruins and listening to the tour, when all of a sudden the guide announced that THERE (pointing to a part of the ancient temple, by now probably stinking of cat piss) was the exact spot where Caesar was murdered.
Suddenly a voice peeped up: ¨...But I love him!!¨
Oops. Was that an outside voice? Was that MY outside voice???
Now, although I think that conquering the world 2000 years ago was terribly impressive, I had been thinking that it was horrible for the place where the Emperor of Rome was stabbed to now be a hold full of hissing, lustful cats. I...well, anyway, I did not mean to say that and certainly not ALOUD. The statue IS kind of sexy, though...
One elserly English woman broke the shocked silence. She walked up to me and patted me on the head and said ¨there, there, dearie¨ in what was no doubt her most soothing voice. ¨In the movies Cesar is always played by the most ATTRCTIVE man!¨
Sigh. Poor me! Poor Caesar too!
We walked on. I stopped to snap a photo of the wierdest dress in one of the store windows - it looked like a beautiful red ball gown, with a huge hole punched into the skirt. Wierd!
I suppose people actually listen to me when I go on about things. The Aussie next wanted very badly to see the church of the Capuccian monks. That is the bone church where everything is made out of bones and rotting corpses. On the steps on the way in we met the prison guard coming out. She informed us that the church was indeed ¨fucked up¨ and that she was glad I had told her to go. Hm, EVERYONE should listen to me all the time!
We went into the church, and I managed to sneak a couple of pictures (the postcard pictures are not as impressive - or in focus - as they might be). I even had a long conversation on the way out with the lady whose job it was to watch over the bones (Seriously the worst job ever. A MILLION times worse than washroom attencant) about how angry it must make her that rude tourists come in and take photos. Hee hee! The Aussie thinks I am cheeky now!
Next we popped into one church and then returned to the cats, where there was to be a tour at 5:00 of the excavations. We arrived 9 minutes late. We asked if wou could still join the tour and we were told that we were 20 minutes late (poointing to the clock, which even while fast showed 16 after) and could not. Okay, time for coffee!
AT the coffee place I ordered a nutella-gelato milkshake. Delicioso! Then the nice man at the bar brought us free shots, which were actually delicious. What was in them? Here, I wrote it down:
Delicious Shot:
1 scoop Raspberry Gelato
Dry white wine
Campari
Now, I know these were free, but mine was half the size of my compantion´s. Not that I wanted more, but I remanked to her that I would guess it was deliberate. Sure enough, on the way out, the waited slipped her his phone number with a message about how he liked her smile. Should I be insulted? What about my (apparently grotesque) smile?? Good thing I am a magnanimous girl, and of course I did not really want his number. I have certainly received enough attention this trip...
On we walked. Past the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier and the Forum, and towards the Colesseum, glowing in the setting sun.
Then on in the dusk to the station.
It was a wonderful, wonderful day. I have to purge some pics from the camera - no room for Budapest. I go tomorrow. I am so excited!
**
Just one story I forgot yesterday. I was looking at Venetian glass, and some And some Americans came over to see. They admired it and I extolled it so much that one of the ladies bought one. Hee hee, I can sell anything! Her friend refused to buy one as she is ¨too Bohemian¨ for that. Right, in your Gucci Purse and pointy-toed shoes, I am certain you are. Silly lady, there are no two Venetian Glasses the same...
**
Okay, time to run...
See! The! Pope! I had not done that yet. What a prime idea! I found my Aussie friend and told her where I was planning to go, and she grabbed two other people from the hostel and we set off for the Vatican. I was the only one who knew where anything was, so I was the leader of the expedition (although I must confess they thought I was a couple of years younger than I really am...one of the girls is only 18 and I know how old 27 looks to 18!).
Now we are four
The Termini station was absolutely packed, and the metro more so. I was surprised that so many people came out every week to hear the pope speak, but what did I know. There were so many people, in fact, that the police would not let us all enter the subway. We had to wait and wait and when we finally reached the platform it too was a seething mass of PEOPLE. I warned everyone that we had to stay together, and that when the train would arrive everyone would push. And that they would have to push too, or we would be separated. Everyone Agreed, and the first train arrived. The crowd surged forward, and we got closer to the edge of the platform, but it was not until the second train that we were all able to slip onto the train.
Three on the train
Tom did not push hard enough. As the train pulled away we saw him outside, looking forlorn. Now, I realize that it is a bit harder for a guy to put his hand in a girl´s face and shove her away from the open door, but the rest of us managed.
We stopped again and again and no-one got off. Finally, at piazza del popolo, 2 stops from the Vaticano, the crown (many of whom were wrapped in flags of bearing banners) streamed off the train. I wondered if perhaps the speech was here. I did not really think so, but the girls did, and better to let them be wrong than to be wrong myself. We pushed and followed the crowd up the stairs and into the Piazza.
There were thousands of people there, but this gathering looked a little too political to be about the Pope. One of the Aussies talked Italian (or so she said), however I did not once hear her actually say anything in Italian. So, as usual, I asked someone where we could find the pope. They explained that this was a rally. O-kay...
Suddenly someone rushed up to us.
¨So you hate Berlusconi?¨ she cried in jubilant English.
Hate Bulesconi?? We did not even know Bulesconi! We told her that and hurried away.
**
It was a 30 minute walk to the Vatican, but we hurried there. We were almost there when we met a friend of one of the aussies (they recognized her rainboots). A Canadian from Toronto! She joined us and we reached the Vatican and pressed into the crown of thousands as the Pope leaned out onto his balcony and began to speak.
The crowd was divided into two sets: The ones who wanted to hear what the Pope had to say, and the ones who wanted the snapshot of the Pope and then who wanted to get on with their day. They pushed to take the shot and pushed to get out of the crowd. At one point an Aussie lady gave me a shove and I protested that there was nowhere to go, wo why push past me.
¨There is somehwere to go,¨ she answered, ¨If you SHOVE¨.
I agreed. I shoved her husband in turn as he passed by, and stepped into his way. She is right. There IS somewhere to go when you shove.
After the Pope spoke and blessed in Latin and Italian, he spoke about the India earthquake in English and about how welcome all the Germans were in Deutsch. Very lingually-talented, this Pope, although it was tres strange to hear him speaking English with a German accent!
We decided to leave before the crowd, and we were off...
Two to Go
...And all of a sudden the wellington-boot Aussie had disappeared! We waited and we looked, she and her friend were nowhere to be found. Too bad, really, but the crowd was streaming out, so we excaped on foot from the Vatican area.
On the sprint to the Vatican, we had passed the most adorable store, named after a pumpkin, with mousing clothing and hippo pencil cases. They were overprised, but fun to look at. Then we went for Gelato, and started the long, long walk back into the city centre (I was not so keen on walking, but for once the day was sunny and exercise is good, right? Even THAT much exercise)
We walked accross the river and through the rally square, where there were still signs and banners and huge balloons. We saw the Spanish stairs and threw coins in the Trevi fountain. (Three, like the song!) We bought pop in a cute little stoor that had genuine Absynthe. Like in Moulan Rouge. With the Wormwood in it, which is illegal in Canada I believe. I really wanted to buy some. I don´t usually drink, but it looked so NEAT and flourescent! However, the prospect of carrying the absynthe for the rest of my trip did not appeal to me.
The two of us dodged the annoying sellers of bubble-guns and rubber toys and walked through the windey cobblestones to a bird-fortune seller. I had mentioned this in another post - budgies who picked fortunes. I love holding cute budgies, and I have never OWNED a green one... *hint hint*. As far as I can translate, my furtune says:
You have a good spirit, but nobody knows it. You will receive something you desire, however it will some in the guise of misfortune, however it will end up being good. Your destiny - you will suffer badness in business, but all will wass. You will be lucky. You will be known by many, but you will be content and knowing your rival will come to you. You will live 99 years. Lotto numbers: 13-28-39
Wow, I sure know a lot of Italian! Anyway, after the bird lady (who tried to charge the Aussie double as she had held more birds and from whom we fianlly ran away) we went to the Pantheon. I have been to the Pantheon before, but every time it is anazing. It is possibly the best thing to see in Rome. As I mentioned before, there is an open hole in the ceiling, and the sun was shining right through it. Today the Church looked very Pagan. I adore the Pantheon.
We continued along the streets, popping into churches as we passed them. In one of them, right beside the Pantheon and behind the Elephant Obelsik, was a church (The Basilica de s. Maria Sophia Minerva) with the original Michaelangelo statue of Christ. Wow, is that ninja turtle talented! It is truly a magnificant statue. I have nothing to say about the poor man´s absent genetalia (wasn´t crucifying him bad enough? Did the church need to replace his chiseled member with a crudely-cut of-colour laurel leaf?), however the stature is Real Art. I love Art! The ceiling of the church was painted blue, with stars twinking down.
On the altar was a tomb (rare for it to be a woman). Perhaps that was Marie Sophia Minerva?
We looked at some of the shops, and at one I almost bought a 5E tank top. It was a really hot day, and I was wearing a long-sleeved shirt and a coat. However, when I asked to try it on I was told that it was ¨impossibile¨. I gestured to the empty dressing rooms and inquired why. The salesman repeated ¨impossibile¨. I pressed the matter and was told that since it was only 5E I did not warrent the usage of the dressing rooms. Hm! Forget that. store.
Afterwards we hiked down the street to the Cat Sanctuary, where the stray cats of Rome live. I had mentioned this before - how in Rome they spay or neuter and then dump all of the stray cats in some runis where they live and fight and try to mate happily. We watched the kitties for awhile, and listened to an English tour go on nearby.
Um...Was that ME?
The next story is of my HUMILIATION. We were sitting there peering down at the ruins and listening to the tour, when all of a sudden the guide announced that THERE (pointing to a part of the ancient temple, by now probably stinking of cat piss) was the exact spot where Caesar was murdered.
Suddenly a voice peeped up: ¨...But I love him!!¨
Oops. Was that an outside voice? Was that MY outside voice???
Now, although I think that conquering the world 2000 years ago was terribly impressive, I had been thinking that it was horrible for the place where the Emperor of Rome was stabbed to now be a hold full of hissing, lustful cats. I...well, anyway, I did not mean to say that and certainly not ALOUD. The statue IS kind of sexy, though...
One elserly English woman broke the shocked silence. She walked up to me and patted me on the head and said ¨there, there, dearie¨ in what was no doubt her most soothing voice. ¨In the movies Cesar is always played by the most ATTRCTIVE man!¨
Sigh. Poor me! Poor Caesar too!
We walked on. I stopped to snap a photo of the wierdest dress in one of the store windows - it looked like a beautiful red ball gown, with a huge hole punched into the skirt. Wierd!
I suppose people actually listen to me when I go on about things. The Aussie next wanted very badly to see the church of the Capuccian monks. That is the bone church where everything is made out of bones and rotting corpses. On the steps on the way in we met the prison guard coming out. She informed us that the church was indeed ¨fucked up¨ and that she was glad I had told her to go. Hm, EVERYONE should listen to me all the time!
We went into the church, and I managed to sneak a couple of pictures (the postcard pictures are not as impressive - or in focus - as they might be). I even had a long conversation on the way out with the lady whose job it was to watch over the bones (Seriously the worst job ever. A MILLION times worse than washroom attencant) about how angry it must make her that rude tourists come in and take photos. Hee hee! The Aussie thinks I am cheeky now!
Next we popped into one church and then returned to the cats, where there was to be a tour at 5:00 of the excavations. We arrived 9 minutes late. We asked if wou could still join the tour and we were told that we were 20 minutes late (poointing to the clock, which even while fast showed 16 after) and could not. Okay, time for coffee!
AT the coffee place I ordered a nutella-gelato milkshake. Delicioso! Then the nice man at the bar brought us free shots, which were actually delicious. What was in them? Here, I wrote it down:
Delicious Shot:
1 scoop Raspberry Gelato
Dry white wine
Campari
Now, I know these were free, but mine was half the size of my compantion´s. Not that I wanted more, but I remanked to her that I would guess it was deliberate. Sure enough, on the way out, the waited slipped her his phone number with a message about how he liked her smile. Should I be insulted? What about my (apparently grotesque) smile?? Good thing I am a magnanimous girl, and of course I did not really want his number. I have certainly received enough attention this trip...
On we walked. Past the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier and the Forum, and towards the Colesseum, glowing in the setting sun.
Then on in the dusk to the station.
It was a wonderful, wonderful day. I have to purge some pics from the camera - no room for Budapest. I go tomorrow. I am so excited!
**
Just one story I forgot yesterday. I was looking at Venetian glass, and some And some Americans came over to see. They admired it and I extolled it so much that one of the ladies bought one. Hee hee, I can sell anything! Her friend refused to buy one as she is ¨too Bohemian¨ for that. Right, in your Gucci Purse and pointy-toed shoes, I am certain you are. Silly lady, there are no two Venetian Glasses the same...
**
Okay, time to run...
posted by Melamondiale @ 10:36 AM
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