Welcome to Roma, just call me Anne Frank...

I apologize for the delay on the post, but I learned a 23 year old body doesn’t recover from a long, fun travel weekend as quickly as a 22 year old body and I sadly had to use yesterday evening to recover. So now, without further ado, Roma!

There are two key phrases to traveling, “hurry up and wait” and “be flexible”; if you don’t like them, don’t bother packing your bag. The friends I met in Roma, (Leah, Anya, and Jenny) got there the day before me and experienced a horrifying cab ride. I’ve had one of these cab rides in Miami, where you catch glimpses of your friends’ terrified eyes, squeeze each others’ legs and pray you survive. While the driver in Roma didn’t seem to care if he ran into traffic, he did want to make it clear to Leah, Anya, and Jenny that the hotel we booked (though claiming it was in Roma, next to a metro stop) was not and was in a very dangerous area. So, after sadly forking over 100 euro for the cab ride, the three spent the night at the hotel and in the morning got the hell out and found a new hotel (flexibility). The hotel they found was perfect. It was right by Termini Station and had air conditioning. The only problem was the room was for three and therefore had three single beds. In ten years, when we have more money, the solution to the problem will probably be - get two rooms. But, with a little flexibility two single beds pushed together become one triple bed and I become a hidden stowaway, leading to my code name and the title of this blog, Anne Frank. (In the next post we will talk about “hurry up and wait”.)

Just hiding from the staff in the wardrobe

Since this is Italy, let’s begin with the food. I would be content eating nothing but margarita pizza, wine and gelato for the rest of my life. But, due to the unfortunate fact that I’m a medical student and know in detail how terrible this would be for me, I’m still weigh my options on expanding my appetite. Though for my four days in Roma, I pushed away that knowledge and ate. My favorite meal was our final dinner. We were exhausted from a hot day of sight-seeing and just picked a random place by our hotel. That’s how it always happens, when you let go of the planning you stumble upon the best things. We all got the exact same meal, caprese salad and penne with vodka sauce. I never know how to write about food, but if I did, and I properly described this dinner, you would cry. It was that good. 

Margarita Pizza

Leah with the best gelato we found

Delicious dessert wine

Quattro Formaggi Pizza

The tear-producing penne with vodka sauce

Deb Caputo, Leah tells me you read my blog (thanks) and asked me to let you know, if you couldn’t tell by my facebook pictures, that your daughter is still alive. And, still very much herself, as the story below proves. We spent Friday in Vatican City, a country within a country. Still trying to figure out if this counts as another country on my country count? I think it does because the 800 residents of the State of Vatican City are ruled by the Pope and have different passports than Italians. Though there is the giant wall surrounding Vatican City, you can pass in and out freely. My favorite part was St. Peter’s Square. You could stand back and easily imagine the entire square filled and overflowing on Easter and Christmas with people hoping to hear or see the Pope. Being the first day of our Roma trip, we were very enthusiastic about photos. We were trying to be very creative and one of Anya’s artistic flashes required Leah to climb up on a stone.  Regrettably, Leah was wearing a dress and instead of getting Anya’s picture, Vatican City got a show. For the rest of the trip, whenever the heat was getting to us, all anyone had to say was “remember when Leah flashed the Pope” and we’d all be doubled over laughing.  

Not the face you expect outside the Sistine Chapel

The hallway leading to the Sistine Chapel. You can't take pictures once inside the chapel.

St. Peter's Square

Leah, Anya and me

Now on to the cliché yet wonderful Roman sights. First, the Colosseum, the structure that makes it clear, humans will go to any length to have an entertaining weekend. Amazingly built between the years 70-80 AD, it’s estimated that it held a capacity of 40,000-70,000 people. One fact I didn’t know beforehand was all citizens of Roma had a free ticket to all events. Your social class dictated how good the seats were, but nether-the-less, no matter who you were, you could go. Next, let’s go to the Trevi Fountain. This is the largest fountain in Rome and has been an icon of Rome in many movies like Roman Holiday. I’m still unsure on the whole coin tossing thing. So many different travel books and people have reported variations on what the coins mean, it’s like house rules to Circle of Death. I know that one coin ensures a return trip to Rome (self-fulfilling prophecy or the best way to ensure Rome tourism never dies, take your pick). I’ve heard the second either leads to a new love, a love in Rome, or a wish and the third leads to marriage or divorce. I decided to throw in two coins and used the second to make a wish (my remaining euros go to anyone that can guess it). Several thousand euros are thrown into the fountain every day and the Italian government uses the money to fund a grocery store for the homeless of Rome. So, no matter what the coins actually mean, the money leads to some good. Now let’s venture to The Pantheon, a temple to all the gods of Ancient Rome. Though the concrete dome extending up to heaven was once the largest in the world, we had quite a struggle locating it. The sunlight at the top of the dome is the only source of light for the building and you can tell the time by locating the sun spot. Apparently, when it rains shadows of the drops are reflected around the room, from the sunlight, and it is breath-taking. Finally, we end where we actually ended our Roma trip, in the Piazza di Spagna at the Spanish Steps. This is a place where supposedly students like to hang out, though all I saw were tourists, and the stairs Dylan refers to in “When I Paint My Masterpiece”.   

Jenny, Anya, and Leah taking in the Colosseum

The Trevi Fountain

The Pantheon

Telling me it's 16:00

Leah and I on the Spanish Steps

Finally, my birthday!!! To celebrate, we went to our favorite restaurant by our hotel that had a bottle of vino that was to die for and the staff spoke only Italian. (The picture of the wine is above; if you are a fan of sweet wine get it.) Afterwards, sharply contrasting our restaurant choice we entered the most American bar possible. I don’t believe there were any Italians inside. The bartenders were Australian and Anya was very concerned with them learning that Iowa produces large quantities of corn, soy beans, and pork. Whether it was American or Italian, it had great house wine and we had a great time. I did learn a lesson though: Sambuca, Jager, and Tabasco sauce should never be combined. One of the Americans we met decided he needed to buy me a birthday shot and we decided to try the shot the bar was known for entitled, The Chuck Norris Roundhouse Kick to the Face Shot. The recipe above is what we were given and let’s just say not long after I was in bed for the night. 

Leah with me and my birthday balloon

Altogether it was another great trip and I was sad to leave Leah, Anya and Jenny. On Monday they went to Naples, Tuesday to Venice, now they’re in Cinque Terre for a few days, after that Nice, Paris, London and then home. I hope they continue to have a fabulous trip. I’m so happy I was able to be part of it.