Rome

I have a limited time on the internet, so I didn't take the time to match the pictures to our story of Rome. It might make the story more interesting. (This is John pretending to be Italian...it's a breadstick)

We left Hyderabad on that lovely KLM flight that leaves the airport at 3:45am. Do you think there was a meeting of some KLM executives to pick out that time?

It was no surprise that the flight was only half-full, giving all the Smiths room to lay down on empty seats. However the Mama of the Smiths was so sick she didn’t get much sleep (Yes it took TGI Fridays one week to become an authentic Indian restaurant).

We landed in Amsterdam slightly early… it’s Murphy’s law… when you have a seven hour layover you are early, when you have a 30 minute layover you are late.

I was wrecked so my loving and thoughtful… and slightly curious husband booked us into the Yotel Hotel. This is sort of a hotel room you can use at the airport... it’s more like a sleeping pod. It cost 68 Euro for 5 hours, and it has internet hook up, bathroom with shower, T.V., and a bed. I highly recommend this to any weary traveler going through Amsterdam. As a matter of fact the food was so good (Including a McDonalds where you can purchase a McCrochet), and they do have a Starbucks, and lots of shopping. I’m thinking about living at the Amsterdam Airport.

However before checking out of the Yotel Hotel, I suggest checking on your flight. We found that our 7 hour layover had turned into a 12 hour layover due to an airline strike (Alitalia) in Rome.

Apparently the airline is for sale and they were planning to make some major cutbacks to make the airline more profitable. Not wanting to lose their jobs or take a pay cut the employees decided not to come in at all. There were a few airline employees who did make it to work that day… literally a few. We were lucky that they were flying us. However they were all fuming, so when our flight attendants gave the safety spiel, the one that most people ignore… we listened with rapt attention (and fear), completely captivated by where the emergency doors are located, and spellbound with the ‘how to use a seat belt’ instructions. The drinks cart came down the aisle the attendant literally threw a sandwich at us and asked us what we wanted to drink with much irritation… our choices: water or coke. Yeah for 2 hour flights!

When we arrived in Rome, the plane lands on the runway and then we walked a short way to a bus which dropped us off at the terminal. Then we proceeded to wait for our luggage in a baggage claim area that was littered with lost luggage… and waited… and waited. We were all a little frustrated but the ones complaining the hardest and loudest were the Americans (it’s embarrassing, I’m glad I’m an honorary Indian). After a few hours of waiting the baggage claim person on duty told us that he was off work in fifteen minutes and we would have to come back tomorrow for our luggage. He also mentioned how lucky we were because the last flight had to walk from the plane to the airport terminal which took about an hour.

Suddenly one of the previously dead luggage conveyor belts came to life and our luggage miraculously appeared… It was my first Roma religious experience. About one hundred tired and annoyed travelers lifted their faces to heaven and praised God in all his glory.

Because our flight was delayed for so long and there was not normally a flight at that time of the night we came out of the airport to find a deserted airport. Empty parking lots, no taxis, no security, not even the sound of a cricket… when one lost and lonely cab happened around the corner, he must have thought it was Christmas. About 100 maddened passengers biding to ride in his cab. He must have called his buddies, because in a few minutes 5 more cabs came and were very happy to take us to our hotels at double the going rate (cash only no meter).

However for our 70 Euros I think we had the thrill of a lifetime. Our driver went about 130kph the entire way (an interesting experience on cobblestone streets). I think he was trying to drop us and get back to the airport for another “sucker-fare”.

At the Hotel Nord Nuova we were informed that the room we prepaid and confirmed from Amsterdam a few hours before was not available. I don’t know what Scott said or did, but all his frustration of the day came out in a single look, and the man at the desk gave us a room bigger and nicer room than we had paid for (and I think he had to change his pants). And now when we walk through the lobby I’m pretty sure I see that same man out of the corner of my eye ducking behind the counter.

Wednesday: Day 2

We understandably had our traditional first day sleep-in, and then explored the hotel a little.

LKF (Little Known Fact) by John Smith: The second toilet is called a bidet…and it’s not really a toilet.

I love this hotel. I could tell you it’s old and charming, but it wouldn’t convey how old and charming this place is. They have bell boys with the monkey hats… reminds me of the haunted hotel at Disney. Our room has a key… not a key card, but a key with a big number written on it. There are chandeliers in the lobby with crystals so big I can see my future in them. The breakfast room is beautiful with linen table cloths and waiters who bring you cappuccinos and espressos to go with our chocolate croissants. It’s a completely different experience from the La Quinta continental breakfast.

Out on the streets the first thing I noticed is the national uniform. It seems everyone has a black coat and black boots… Being a fake Indian, I love color and find Italian fashion sense boring. (It’s lonely here on my island of people who criticize the Italian fashion sense.)

The three amigos (the Smiths) went to a restaurant near our hotel for lunch and had what every person should experience once in their lifetimes… pizza and spaghetti in Italy. I can never have pizza or pasta anywhere else again… it was so good, a tear came to my eye knowing how lucky I was to experience this culinary masterpiece. How do Italians stay so thin?

After lunch we went for a little walk.

L.K.F. by John Smith: Sometimes Rome smells kind of cigarettey and sometimes it smells yummy.

We took a hop on hop off tour of the city and saw some of the ancient ruins that dot this modern city. I love the cobblestone streets and the tiny cars.

On the tour we drove past the Vatican, the Coliseum, the Pantheon, many fountains and obelisks. It was a great way to get the feel of the city and see the sights… especially when it began to rain and we were warm and dry on our bus.

We stopped for dinner (more spaghetti and pizza) and then back to our hotel for a tuck in.

Thursday: Day 3

What a great day! After our pasta/pizza lunch the main part of the day we took a tour of the Vatican and St. Peters Chapel. I learned so many things, but the main lessons of the day were…. Vatican ATMs are in Latin, and it’s a prerequisite for a pope to love art… and Michelangelo had a great sense of humor.

LKF by John Smith: At one time the priests were embarrassed by the naked statues and chopped off the penises, and now the chopped off penises are kept in a room at the Vatican… I wonder if they call it the penis room?

It was amazing to walk the same halls and steps as so many famous people in history. In the U.S. we tend to think something hundreds of years old is a monument, in Rome it’s thousands. The Sistine Chapel was amazing (no photos allowed). Our tour guide Simon gave us a lot of facts about it before we went in. It was interesting to hear then see. I loved the tapestries. These hangings took 15 years each to complete. I thought about it and thought what a waste of time… then I thought what do I have to show for the last 15 years of my life? Well, I have a happy marriage, and a great kid, lots of travel stories, but what have I completed? Ponder… Ponder…

LKF by John Smith: There are no toilet seats in the Vatican. Maybe they are kept in the toilet seat room.

My favorite part of the entire trip was St. Peter’s Chapel. It is beyond beautiful. There was a service going on while we were touring and the singing echoed the enormous halls. I think I’ve converted.

We took the subway back to our hotel area and went to dinner (more spaghetti and pizza).

Friday: Day 4

I could hear music and noise outside of our hotel room, but I didn’t know what it was about until we left for our day of sightseeing.

We walked out onto a massive parade of people walking down the street. It was a peaceful protest, but the signs were in Italian, so I’m not sure what they were protesting. We took a quick look at these protesters numbering in the thousands and decided to walk the other way. We know the demonstration was peaceful because almost all those involved were either smoking or drinking espresso.

We walked to a restaurant for pizza and pasta and then to the Trevi Fountain, where the demonstrators were again marching (still not sure what they were protesting). We took a different route than the parade and walked to the Pantheon… again the protestors had followed us. Because the signs were in Italian and they seemed to show up where ever we were I can only assume that they were protesting the Smith Family’s visit to Rome. We got smart and took a cab to the Coliseum.

LKF by John Smith: The Coliseum is only 4 ½ trees high.

Even with our ‘speedy’ taxi we again met with the protestors at the Coliseum. It was as if we were being stalked by thousands of Italians with whistles and drums.

It seems the protest started in Termini (our hotel area) and ended at the Coliseum. It was our luck to follow the exact same route as the protest only to share a very crowded subway ride with them back to Termini. I was standing behind one of the protestor who had dreadlocks. He was talking to his friends on either side of him. Every time he turned his head I would get bitch-slapped by his dreadlocks. I couldn’t help it… I started to laugh. I don’t know what they were saying because they were talking in Italian, but by the look they gave me… I picked a bad time to laugh… no wonder they were protesting the Smiths visit to Rome.

Between the airline strike and the protest I think the entire city has PMS. Hopefully they’ll be over it by the time we leave.

LKF by John Smith: Even Italian hippies like patchouli.

(We found out later the protest was students protesting educational cuts.)

My friends Greta and Ed recently traveled to Nepal with their kids. At one point they were on a bus that was blocked by traffic. They got off the bus and began to walk. Soon they found themselves swept into a riot… our Italian experience was nothing like theirs.

I noticed that people are talking to Scott and in Italian and when they talk to me they speak English. What is it that makes me stand out as an English speaking person? I think it might be my bright yellow sweater and tennis shoes in a sea of black coats and black boots.

When we told people we were planning to visit Rome here is the advice we received:
· Watch out for the gypsies (this offends me, as I am a nomad…cousin to the gypsy)
· Hold onto your purse.
· Put your wallet in your front pocket.
· Carry your money in your shoe.
· Wear your backpack on backwards so you can keep an eye on it.
· If someone talks to you, it’s only because they are distracting you while someone else is picking your pocket.
· Tie your wallet to the inside of your purse.Take only the bare minimum of what you need with you and put everything else in your hotel safe.

My hand is now permanently in the shape of a claw due to the paranoid grip I’ve had on my purse all day.

Saturday: Day 5
Today we did what the Scott and Robyn do best. We shopped. We went to the suburbs of Rome and checked out an outlet mall. It was a lot like the outlet malls in the U.S. except instead of Bass and Big Dog stores there were Prada Versace stores.

We ate at the mall… we were getting tired of pizza and spaghetti so we mixed it up by only having pizza.

It was interesting to see the suburbs of Rome and experience how normal a place so amazing can be.
After returning from the mall we walked around our hotel neighborhood and went to the same restaurant we went to the first day. Here is my best advice for dining in Italy…ask your waiter for a recommendation. I didn’t think I could gag down anymore pizza and spaghetti so I asked the waiter to give me his favorite dish. I got a steak with a caper cream sauce, roasted potatoes, and a crisp fresh salad. This wasn’t even on the menu, and it was heavenly!
With full tummies we walked back to our hotel and packed up for our leave in the morning.

Sunday: Day 6

We had read on the internet that the Alitalia semi-strike had gone another direction and instead of not showing up the employees were harassing the passengers. I thought this was an exaggeration until we got to the airport and found out that you had to go to a particular check-in counter for your flight and that was a closely held secret by the person behind the counter…and that counter was continuously moving from place to place and person to person. We were lucky on our third try we got the ‘right’ check-in counter, but I suspect there are still people waiting in lines at the Roma Airport only to find when they get to the end they were in the ‘wrong’ line. The woman in line behind us was on the same flight, but when she went to the same man who had just checked us in, he told her she was in the wrong line and directed her to another line for her to wait in. When you did get your boarding pass, you were assigned to random seats... John was assigned next to strangers. It was a massive musical chairs on the plane, I don't think anyone actually sat in the seats they were assigned.

To make things more interesting they listed multiple flights for the same time at the same gate. There was only room for one plane, so it was a lottery to see if it was your flight or one of the others which actually was coming in on that gate. If it wasn’t yours there would be an announcement that your flight was now boarding at an entirely different part of the airport…now!
Passengers loaded down with luggage were running all over the airport. It was a little funny now that I’m not living it.
Good-bye Rome…Hello Florida via Amsterdam/Detroit.
Speaking of the Detroit airport…two moments of pure joy! Taco Bell and snow! Life is good.