When in Rome........ Get Soaked.....

I was in Rome, finally found the place I would be staying and had been reunited with my love, Katrina. It was time to see the beautiful ancient city. Katrina took me to the tram that we would be spending quiet a bit of time on to take us to the metro. When we got off the metro we walked up the stairs, and I was completely overjoyed to see the coliseum right there smack dab in front of me.

                                                   

It was breathtaking. So beautiful and so massive, I could have stared at it for hours. It was like a fabulous red wine, aged to perfection. The thought that gladiators fought here, and large beasts were fed people here… At least that’s how I’ve always envisioned it… very Hollywood of me, I know. But come on! Russell Crow died here, and Lizzie McGuire ousted the evil workings of Palo and put of the performance of her life here. I was in movie lover heaven. And then just behind me I could only see the outside of the Roman Forum, but it was plenty beautiful on the outside. We grabbed my first cappuccino right outside, mainly because it was starting to rain and we weren’t about to walk like 5 blocks in it. But the café was cute and quaint, and the staff was lovely. Katrina ordered me a nutella cresoint and I took a bite of this delicious spread for the first time and had fallen into a love coma. I was delirious with excitement to be reunited with Katrina and able to catch up on our lives.

When we finished and paid I left with a “Gracie, ciao!” and heard in the background, “Prego! Ciao!” And my heart skipped a beat. We moved on to the Vatican, and coming out of the metro to no rain was ever so lovely. There were hundreds of chairs in the center of it and Katrina had informed me that on Wednesdays the Pope comes out to bless the city. I had just missed it. Dang. Still I was so pleased to have been able to seen this staple. We continued with a few backtracks (the street signs are a joke. At every corner the same street you’ve been walking on changes) to the Bridge of Angels. The Whovian fan girl in me was in full swing with Weeping Angels references and jokes. (DON’T BLINK. BLINK AND YOU’RE DEAD.) It was wonderful, and right outside of a large castle with cannons and all. (But it was missing a mote. Disappointing, I know) we quickly moved on. (I know what you’re thinking. “Stop and smell the Roses a bit!” I only had one day in Rome, I had to get to the sights and see as much as I could though.) We walked for what felt like 100 miles, I’m sure it was only one though, and ended up in Piazza Nevona where we found the Four Rivers Fountain.

And I was amazed. It was so massive and so extensive, I was immediately infatuated. But I was starving, had low blood sugar and was running on fumes considering I had been up for more than 30 hours and had 3 and half to 4 hours of sleep. We searched for this wine bar that Katrina’s friend to her about and to avail did we find it. So we picked a café and ordered sub-par pizza margarita and table red wine. But at least we had such a lovely view of the fountain and Piazza.

After more chatting, eating and catching up, I heard something in the distance that was unmistakable. It was a large roll of thunder… and the rain had begun again. It was slow and delicate, and we were covered. There was no need to panic. And then I saw it. A sight I’m not close to ever forgetting. The sight of a glorious, bright bolt of lightning in the sky. And the rain began to fall hard and fast. Half our table was soaked, as was out shoes. And our wine glasses were covered in shiny raindrops.

The lightning was not ending anytime soon and my heart was growing faint.

            I must give a bit of a back-story. I’m not fond of Lightning, unless I’m in the safety of the indoor. Last July my bestie Candace and I went on a trip to Nashville. I knew it was the home of country music, but I had no idea that even in the dead of summer it was the home to lightning storms. One night we left our hotel (Opryland Hotel. Oh yeah.) And headed for the mall within walking distance. However it was raining and we got a free ride from a luxury car driver person… (ßWow) It was the midnight showing of the Dark Knight Rises. It was two am when we were leaving the theater and pouring rain and of course, tons of lightning. Candace and I looked at each other and I said, “I don’t wanna wait for a cab, its not that far and its really late.” And she responded with a, “Me either, wanna just try and run for it?” then I retorted with a casual, “Sure.” And we attempted probably the most stupid thing in our entire lives. We ran in a lightning storm. The parking lot was lined with metal light posts on the left and trees on the right. The lot was filled with probably 2 to 3 inches of water and the sky filled with so much light, so frequently, you’d argue it was the middle of the night. As we ran, Candace, whom is one of the most laid back person and says things like, “Oh its totally fine. Chill out. Not a big deal.” Shouted “This is probably the dumbest decision ever. Please Lord keep us safe. Shitshitshitshit. Ohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh.” And my reassurance was lost forever. I’m not a runner. I don’t exercise, and I eat a lot of McDonalds. I’m slow and easily winded. Also I was afraid for my life. So I really felt that if I didn’t die from a lightning strike, I sure as hell was gonna die of a heart attack. After, what felt like hours and was only minutes, we were out of the mall parking lot, but we still needed to make into the hotel and there was only one spot of coverage. We raced to that spot to catch our breaths and after two minutes of huffing and puffing, Candace stated matter-of-factly, “We are headed for that door. Pull out the key card so we can get in. Ready. Go!” and we bolted for the door. When we made it I wanted to scream because there was no key slot. I felt we were screwed. The lightning carried on and Candace pointed to a new door and I firmly refused. I grabbed the handle and was overwhelmed with an urge to cry of happiness when the door opened into the hotel. We were alive, when the odds were against us. I swore never to do something so ridiculous and stupid again.

            So when the lightning was happening in the Piazza, I suggested we head into the restaurant to wait it out. We waited and chatted with a guy our age from the Netherlands for about 20 to 30 minutes. The lightning ended but the rain didn’t, so we raced to a bus stop and jumped on. I’m not sure what was going on, but even though the bus stop clearly stated the bus was going to the train station it really wasn’t. We ended up sitting on that bus, ridding around Rome, for an hour and half wondering WHERE the hell we were going and WHY the hell we weren’t reaching our destination. Finally we reached it. Exhausted, cold, and rain soaked we grabbed the tram back to the apartment. We changed out of our soaking vans and into our boots grabbed coats, umbrellas, and my tripod and headed out for a night walk.

It was pouring and I could feel the distinct rubbing feeling you get when your shoes are in the process of making a blister. But at least I got some sick night pics. Bare with me, I don’t have Photoshop here, I’ll edit these and others when I get home. These are just a taste. 

When we reached our final destination of the Angel bridge you see there, We looked at our map and decided it was time to go home… then realized home… was on the opposite side of ROME!!!! It was so far away and the metro was closed! The cost for a cab would be a bitch, so we started onward. My right foot was in a lot of pain and my leather boots were pretty ruined by this point. Then we saw people waiting at a bus station! It was like seeing a glass of water in the heat of the dessert! The nice guy pointed us in the direction we were aiming for and we ended up home soaked, safe and sound. It was time for bed and off to Lyon… or so we thought…

                                                                                                        Sincerely

                                                                                                                     Cass <3

Arrivederci America! Ciao Roma!

Well, I finally made it to Rome, saw the major sights and now I’m in Lyon. But lets back up a bit, alllll the way to my first flight at LAX…  

            My bag was overweight (surprise surprise) when I realized I had forgotten my pillow and laptop on my bed back home. The immense sadness that flowed through my body was unlike any feeling I’ve had before… (Semi-dramatic) How could I forget my pillow? Damn. Oh well, must press on. I made it to my gate with time to spare and to my dismay there were no celebs in sight. Bummer. It was 9:15am when we ascended on our journey to Charlotte, NC. A quaint plane that I got the pleasure of having the window seat. I hate to fly y’all, I’m a nervous wreck and I want the trip to go as smooth as possible. So you can imagine my anxiety when the gentleman next to me wouldn’t turn off his phone during take off. I wanted to grab his phone and scold him for putting people’s lives in danger for a simple text. Don’t worry, I refrained from doing so. We landed with a bit of turbulence, wasn’t a fan. But it was a safe flight and I was satisfied. However, there was a plane in our parking spot and my connecting flight was going to board in 15 minutes. I impatiently waited and 10 minutes from boarding I escaped my plane and hauled ass to the next gate and made it in with a bit of time to spare.

Charlotte to Rome was a bigger flight, and my good luck with seats quickly ended. I was in the isle seats in-between two people. One was a woman who kindly helped me with my bags and the other was a man. Both Italian, both quiet. I sat in my seat listening to 7 or 8 men laugh, joke and chat in Italian and it finally hit me. I was about to start my great adventure! I couldn’t help but smile wide and occasionally look back at them. I knew nothing they were saying, but it sounded magnificent. Now before I left on my trip, I had a bit of bad luck and stress. And a wise friend of mine said, “Everything happens for a reason, hang in there.” At the time, I really didn’t want to hear that, but I later realized she was right, Because to my delight one of the gentlemen was a young man, I’d say no older than 25, and was absolutely attractive. We made eye contact, he held my gaze and my cheeks became hot. It was attraction at first sight. He sat behind and to the left of me, so I could see him in my peripheral vision, and for a few hours we would play the coy game of eye contact and turn away, with sweet, coy smiles and red, hot cheeks. I was in heaven. Then I needed to use the restroom. We had been airborne for 4 hours at least with no signs of turbulence, and so I decided to do the one thing I swore I’d never do. Use the restroom on a plane. But of course the man next to me had fallen asleep with his headphones in and I could not wake him. That’s when my Italian darling spoke to me. He told me to turn up the man’s volume on his head phones to wake him. I couldn’t bring myself to disturb this man’s slumber with a jarring, loud burst of noise. I said no way that’s terrible and he laughed at me. I guess we weren’t as quiet as we thought because that woke up the gentleman next to me and I was able to get up and use the restroom. It felt incredible to stretch my legs and back, but I knew I had to return to my seat. I sat down and was shocked by how quickly my neighbor concked out again. Suddenly in the corner of my eye I say a light and turned and saw my flirting partner holding his phone in my view with a message that read, “….back in jail… :(“ I giggled and knew… these European boys were going to get me into trouble on this trip. He held up another message when he stood up to go to the restroom. I couldn’t really read it because his hand was moving too much, but it was something along the lines of teasing me, telling me the amazing feeling of being able to get up and stretch. I gave him a pouty look and he smiled, and my heart sank.

            I got absolutely no sleep on that 9-hour flight and I was exhausted. We arrived in Roma at 9:30am and I couldn’t deny the large puffy circles under my eyes, but it was time to get off the plane and find my way to my love, Katrina! I walked side by side with my heartthrob and chatted about my trip and found out he was getting back from a trip up the California coastline. He walked me all the way to the baggage lines and then we parted ways. I never got his name, but I will never forget his accent.

I drug my gynormous suitcase around the station looking for my train to the center of Roma, the Leonardo Express. Finally found it paid fourteen Euros too much and headed to the station. At this point it was 10:40am and I had told Katrina 9:30am. So I grabbed my phone to give her a shout. (also my train was gonna take a half hour) And then BOOM! It hit me like a ton of bricks… my phone doesn’t work here. Shit. I couldn’t call, text, email, facebook, or carrier pigeon. I was screwed. I pulled up to the station and found it to be tiny. I had directions to the place we were staying, but Katrina was supposed to be meeting me. So I didn’t want to leave incase she was here. I looked for the tram we were suppose to be meeting at and couldn’t seem to find it. Little did I know it was outside across the street. Suddenly I spotted and payphone and attempted to my a call to my traveling buddy, informing her I was about to curl up in a ball and begin my mental break down. However, I could not reach her. For some reason the payphone had a vendetta against cell phones and refused to help me out in anyway. But I refused to cry. The Italians would judge me, and possibly take advantage. I bit my lip hard, and after a half hour of attempted phone calls and no odds ever in my favor, I decided to go my last resort route and take a cab.

            I was greeted outside by a cabbie and a giant puff of cigarette smoke. He asked me if I needed a taxi and I asked him if he took credit cards. Of course with my luck he quickly responded with a no, but was kind enough to let me know, no taxis do and pointed me in the direction of an ATM. I walked around the corner and to my surprise found out the train station is incredibly larger than I had thought and I was suddenly flooded with an overwhelming sense of failure and wanted to drop all my belongings and cry for days. But again! I pressed on. Got my cash and went out to wait for a taxi. After waiting for 20 minutes, my original cigarette puffer stopped and picked me up. I told him where I needed to go, and he pulled out what I thought was the yellow pages, but was actually a map of Roma whilst driving.

            The stories you hear of the driving madness in Italy are no joke. It is the most frightening experience I’ve felt. There are no lanes and really no speed limit. Red lights are run frequently and the sounds of the famous horn, “egh egh” fill the air. Drives park their car wherever they see fit. So what you think is a parking lot, is actually just a road. I fear for my life, took a deep breath, and closed my eyes until we arrived. Nineteen Euros later I had finally made it.

            I walked up to the door of the apartment building and immediately realized I had no idea what number it was. Luckily I was greeted by an elderly Italian man with what looked like the Italian version of people magazine. He asked in Italian, I assume but don’t quote me, what I was doing there or who I was looking for. I told him Elisa, and he looked puzzled. Shit. Had I been dropped off at the wrong place? I asked him if he had a phone I could use multiple times but he disregarded my pleas and asked for more information. Which I really didn’t have. I pulled out the only thing I could think of, my phone with the email for Katrina, and showed him. He read it and with a giant, “Aha” moment, he exclaimed, “AH! Elisa!” …Yes dude… I just said that.. Whatever. He pressed the button for the apartment and a mans voice answered. Great… I’m about to get sold into sex slavery. I just know it. He asked for Elisa and the man on the intercom responded in Italian, so I had no idea what was happening. I merely prepared myself for the worst. The old man told me something in Italian and the only thing I got out of it was “quarto”. Okay… four… what??? He waved his hand, rolled his eyes, grabbed my bag and told me to follow him. He took me up to the elevator and pressed the button for floor four. (oooohh.) When he got to our floor he rang the bell and a man in his late 20s early 30s and a girl my age answered. I asked them if Katrina was staying here and they looked puzzled. Awesome. I said, “Blonde girl staying with Elisa??”.  “Ah! Si si!” they said and invited me in. The girl informed me that Katrina wasn’t there and I told her I knew she was probably still looking for me, and asked if I could use her phone. She gladly gave it to me and I called up Katrina. As I suspected she was at the train station worried sick and told me to sit tight for a half hour and she would come to the apartment so we could start our journey. So I sat and chatted with Elisa’s roommates and waited for Katrina to come and rescue me from the heinous 2 or 3 hours I had just experienced.

            I felt a bit of accomplishment and no more urges to cry. I had made it. I was alive and I was settled. And then Katrina breezed through the door and welcomed me with open arms and a much needed hug. Now it was time for our tours of Roma! … and a cappuccino.

                                                                        To be continued…

                                                                                                Cass <3