Five Go Mad

At the end of a few days in in Rome. Typically up at six bashing into furniture in the dark, loudly trying to be quiet so as not to disturb. Failing I’m told. Out for a solo walk around the nearest city blocks. St Peter’s square is just down the hill so I’ve had a glimpse through the colonnade most mornings. Dark, coolish, almost brisk, hardly any tourists at that time but the workers start early. Plenty of street sweepers, police, army dudes, men fixing the cobble stones, scaffolders putting up or taking down. Traffic reaching the buzzy stage by seven. Took in a sunrise on the dome of St Peter’s, the Tiber by bridge in a grey slithery sort of mood, cobbled alleys, parked up scooters, stand up espresso counters, lots of people sleeping rough. They have clean blankets and catch the bus so Rome seems to be a city that looks after the lowly. A cleaner moved one homeless person out of the way so she could work on the doorstep; both polite and understanding despite frustration on both sides.

Back to the room as the rousting begins (unless I’ve taken Robyn’s alarm clock/phone by mistake in the dark and then everyone’s slept in). Showers, grumbles, rolling messes then laughs. Sneak a coffee and down to breakfast en-masse.  It’s a small breakfast room and we seem to half fill in with our big New Zealand bodies, banging and rattling something or other whenever I get up for seconds or thirds. Pretty simple food so I like it. Gennaro makes the coffee and does a great job. He says he’s the owner but he makes lots of jokes so who knows. Gennaro makes us feel like special guests even though people like us must pass through his dining room like it’s intermission at the movies.

Rugged up, the procession out to the day’s allocated art or ancient history site begins.  Single file in places because the footpath’s only shoulder width and the traffic uses all of the road. You’ve got to do a lot of watching; your feet because the ground is mostly wonky, the right way when crossing because you’ll get it wrong and then get squished, out for gypsies and their nefarious pick-pocketty ways (actually never saw any), the flipping Italian men who gawk at my daughters (it’s a pastime here I’m told), your google map which doesn’t work in the alleyways and with whatever watching time you’ve got left there’s the photo-ops in every direction at every point you stop and look.

Tours of the Vatican Museum, Sistine Chapel and St Peter’s Basilica complete with underground dead popes. Also Colosseum and Roman Forum where many, many interesting facts were discovered over six hours- sort of the sports highlights package of art-history, Catholic History and Roman archaeology. Sadly many of the facts learned will (have already) erode away despite finding them extremely interesting at the time (maybe the girls are right about the early-onset what-do you-call-it). However, some will stick forever. For example, the inside part of an arch (called a fornix) gave its name to a popular evening pastime that occurred for hundreds of years under the arches of the colosseum; mostly after a financial transaction occurred. That’s the only one that comes to mind at the moment but there are others.

Fairly buggered by this point in the day (as the tours were the walk around a lot type), lunch usually became a priority, particularly for Megan, although we broke Nicole today because, though lunch wasn’t late per se, it did come after a very prolonged period of walking. It was pretty much straight home for a lie-down for her in the afternoon. With the planned stuff out of the way we generally free-lanced it in smaller clumps based on what looked interesting, how far away it was and level of monument overload or museum sickness was present in the group.

Late afternoon home for snacks, wine, comparing notes, photos and facebook comments. Jamie Oliver channel (seriously!?), then dinner out or in; local pizzeria or dinner a-la Robyn cooked in the apartment. Bed by nine usually, out by 9:02- another source of mirth and facebook photo opportunities for my children if I happened to fall asleep before actually getting to a bed.

On a plane tomorrow to Munich. 6 degrees and Christmas markets. It’s only a one and a half hour flight!  Rome is great, got to come back. SPQR!- If only I could remember what I meant.

PASTA!!!

Travesteres (must come back here wiuth a beard- very hip and funky)

Girls at a fountain

Looking for the Pope

A girl in Rome

Some girls in Rome

Many girls in Rome