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8-8-2002 - 10:11 a.m.
The Stroll and Snack Tour of Roma We�re back almost a week now, so I really need to document the trip and then move on. Home life presents all sorts of challenges on a daily basis, and school starts again Monday. And just to add to the fun, we are going to the fabulous Rosebud powwow later today to visit with the extended family for the weekend and dance, dance, dance.
Anyway� We arrive in Roma, sort of dazed and confused because we have been asleep for a few hours. Our watches say it�s 3am but all around us it�s 10am and it must be true because the sun is out and we�ve had breakfast. So when in Rome, pretend likes it�s morning. The thing you have to know about Rome is that it�s OLD. 3,000 years plus. Prairie Village just celebrated it�s 50th anniversary but that ain�t even a blip on the Roman timeline. Everywhere you turn is some ancient/holy/historic/sacred/arty thing that you just have to see. I�ve been there before, back when I had younger legs, little money and carried my worldly possessions in a backpack. That was the �American Slut in Europe 1990 tour� and frankly, those adventures would be more interesting. I got my first taste of uncut European meat, if you know what I mean and I went back for seconds. Drifts off into erotic memories of vacations past Sorry. Where were we? We are only going to be here the rest of the day and tomorrow, before we head off for the coast on Saturday. There are ancient/holy/historic/sacred/arty things I want Ray to see, but he has made it clear �No Catholic stuff�. I guess I can�t really blame him for that. I wasn�t ripped from my family and plunked down into a Dickensian Catholic boarding school as a child where I was abused. We won�t be seeking a Papal audience. The ironic part is while we are there, Pope John Paul George Ringo is in Mexico, canonizing the first Native American saint. So, ancient Roman stuff is fine. Pagan temples are fine. Fountains with naked men are fine very fine, as a matter of fact. Sitting in cafes and watching people (MEN) go by is fine. Shopping is fine, Armani, Versace, Prada. Eating is fine. We can see Michelangelo�s carving of Moses, because Moses is Old Testament, we aren�t going to be seeing the Pieta�too Catholic. So these are the ground rules. Some of my dilemma is solved when we get to the hotel. There�s a book in our room, written by the hotel owner and available for sale, of course, called �7 Romantic Walking Trips through Rome�. The book categorizes the trips into the sacred and the secular, it�s in English and it tells you which way to turn when you walk out of the hotel door. I like walking tour books that tell you to look up and to the left on this particular corner so you don�t miss some little architectural curly-que or gargoyle. The hotel is wonderful, centrally located near the Spanish Steps. Ray seems to be Ok with the view of St Peter's Dome. It�s Italian design at its best, muted earthy colors and all clean, sleek lines. There�s a bidet in the bathroom, which makes Ray and I fall against each other laughing. Inside joke on bidets is that the first time Ray and I ever stayed in a hotel other than Motel 6 and saw a bidet; he didn�t know what it was. I say �It�s to clean your ass� and his eyes get big. �How did they know we are gay? �He asks It�s these little intimate jokes that make a marriage. We scrub off the travel funk, grab out guidebook and head out the door. But first stopping to chat up the concierge and booking ourselves on a �Rome by Night� tour for later. I check the itinerary, no Catholic stuff. The concierge is pushing a �Roman feast� that looks totally decadent, complete with dancing slaves and a vomitorium. I am interested. Traffic in Rome is terrible. This part of the city was built for donkey and cart, not 21st century traffic. The rule of thumb is �whoever has the biggest balls has the right-of-way. Little motorcycles zip by like annoying insects. I am glad we are walking �at least for the first 30 minutes. Then reality sets in and this is a reality that is going to dominate the rest of our trip. I can�t walk very well or very long. We�re strolling along, guidebook in hand, taking in the ancient/holy/historic/sacred/arty things. My knees are heating up and begging for mercy. My legs are like lead. We stop for a cappuccino and a snack. I am perfectly happy to sit in the sun and watch Rome pass by, as long as my ass is in a chair. We sit for another 30 minutes or so and move on. More a/h/h/s/a stuff... Now my legs and telling my brain �We need to sit down and have some gelato� This is going to become the stroll and snack tour.
more later
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