Okay, so it wasn’t so much a Roman holiday as an insane attempt at seeing as much of the classic sites as possible on our first visit to the ancient capital of Italy. For those of you that have never been, Rome is HUGE and trying to see it in four days is just asking for trouble, not to mention major aching feet. But see it, or some of it, in four days we did with the help of some tips from my Dad, a scholarly expert on all things Ancient Rome, Greece and the Classics in general, a friend and Rick Steves, whose guide to Rome we had handy and downloaded on our iPad Kindle app.
Hubbie’s sister has a very dear friend, Yolanda, who lives in the outskirts of Rome in the neighborhood of Monte Verde Nuovo. She obliged to let us stay with her, bless her cotton socks, in her large apartment with herself and her two adorable children (her husband, Andrea was out of town on business) from last Monday evening until this past Saturday morning. Now, to say she was the hostess with the mostess is an understatement and a half. She INSISTED on: treating us like dear old friends, picking us up from the airport, cooking dinner for us almost every night (we had little Fiona with us, so wild nights out on the town weren’t in the cards this trip, though Yolanda offered to babysit!), helping us prep for each touristy day the night before, taking us to the airport to leave and just generally being a shiny beacon of awesomeness. This kind of warmth and generosity became a theme as we encountered the Roman people.
What can I say, we had a freaking blast, though much bickering between hubbie and I ensued for stupid reasons, like “you don’t look like you’re having enough fun,” or “no, it’s your turn to choose what to do!” which according to an email update I received from Babycenter.com today, is normal as little Fiona enters toddlerhood. Thanks, Babycenter.com. Next time, a heads up would be appreciated.
We saw the classic sites; partook in some yummy pizza, pasta, panini, coffee and gelato; spoke fake Italian (Spanish with an Italian accent with some sporadic Italian phrases and vocab we managed to learn tossed in for good measure; hey, we made an effort); hung our heads in shame at Il Anagrafe where we registered Fiona as Italian born and living abroad, thanks to my hubbie’s Italian citizenship, and had to repeat “no parlo Italiano” and endure quizzical looks; and just enjoyed the general splendor of the Eternal City as we strolled, people watched and imagined this place as it must have been 2,000 years ago.
Here are some of my favorite moments. Any historic tidbits you happen to scan are courtesy of my Dad, James K. Finn Ph.D!