Moving here to Prague for work some 6 months ago, it came time to rectify this Italy situation. Heather and I lit upon the idea of giving the kids one-on-one travel experiences with Mom or Dad for Christmas in lieu of gifts…well because if you read the story of us getting out here (see post from August) you know we cannot afford to bring one thing more home than we came out with. Moreover, we may never have the chance again to be so close to so much…kind of like not going to see Wall Drug while going through South Dakota…you get the picture.
So Coulson and I would be going to Rome together for 2.5 days. From Christmas day until D-day, Coulson was over-the-moon excited about the trip. I can’t say I was so enamored with seeing historical sites at his age, so it’s exciting to see him pour over the Rick Steve’s guide to Europe, re-reading the Rome section at least 3 times and planning out our entire itinerary down to the minute. He even has all the expenses calculated…I don’t have to do a thing but show up. If I had worn a tux, it would have been exactly like my wedding. We depart Prague airport and enjoy a brief 2 hour flight to Rome…and to think if we were in Seattle that would get us just beyond Salt Lake City. It’s staggering how close such diversity can be in this continent. We land at the Leonardo DaVinci Fiumicino airport and immediately the adventure is on. We are on the lookout for pick pockets at every corner. While a decent business traveler, I have not done much tourist travel. Rick Steve’s has me convinced that everyone in Italy is a con artist waiting to pick my pocket. No problem, I’ve got a money belt now buried under 6 layers of clothing and I’ve memorized how to say “get the heck outta’ here in Italian”. I figure that I’m all set.
As we go to buy our tickets for the train to get from the airport to Rome’s transportation hub (called Termini) we meet Con Artist Number 1. As we’re trying to buy our tickets using the automated kiosk, we’re having trouble navigating the screens (probably designed by Google or something) and a CAN1 comes up behind us and begins helping us with the selections. I’m sure he’s going to somehow try and con us into buying tickets from him or get us into some clandestine cab. It turns out he’s just a nice guy trying to help. Thanks Mr. Steves.
Coulson is fixated on the schedule and freaked that we’re going to miss our train, so we rush on board with 5 minutes to spare and enjoy seeing the outskirts of Rome while chatting with two fellow passengers who are facing us in the seat configuration. The senior of the two, who lives in Italy, comments on how in Rome you can’t walk 10 feet without seeing something that is off-the-charts spectacular. This adds to the hype Coulson and I have already built up leading into the trip. There will probably be nude statues lining the walkways of Termini right as soon as we get out. If we get lucky, maybe we’ll find an ancient Roman coin on the ground somewhere as we walk…the equivalent of finding an arrowhead on my 5th grade field trip in Wyoming. We arrive at Termini…and well, let’s just say it’s not what we expected. Coulson has us headed in the wrong direction at first and we’re wandering into what is clearly an industrial zone. We see what looks like a crumbling building ahead and we’re thinking…”this is Rome?” I use some of my Italian (I’d like to think my accent is pretty good but who knows) to get us back on track: “Mi potete aiutare per favore? Of course I am so amazing they can’t even tell I’m a gringo from the Czech Republic but assume I’m a local (jk). (I even have a few Italians ask me for directions later on…no really…either they were con artists or I just look so informed.)
On the way to the hotel we spot a kiosk that is selling the Roma passes. A Roma pass gets you metro and bus fair and a reduced price for seeing several of the key sites all in one. I eye the lady in the kiosk suspiciously thinking that she is Con Artist Number 2. Could this be 60 Euros I’ll never see again and she is selling me fake Roma passes? I see her cackling wickedly as she heads off to Monte Carlo to play craps with our money. It turns out that she is just a nice lady who is selling real Roma passes. Thanks again Rick. We finally find Hotel Adler (wandering around with a map in Italy is half the fun to be honest) and Bruno (gotta love the name) checks us in. The hotel is 35% cheaper because we’re in Rome in January and it’s going to rain all week. Helps to thin out the tourists and makes for a much cheaper stay. Works for me. The room is clean and the elevator is old-school and made to fit two people at most (or 1 American :-) ). It’s so snug, if you get in with your girlfriend, President Delaine’s “standard works” rule (the one for keeping couples from slow dancing at Gillette Stake Dances) can barely be enforced.
The night is still young so we’re off to our first visit which is a 3 out of 3 triangle (Rick’s indicator of how critical a sight is to see) National Museum that is a 5 minute walk from the hotel. Wow, three triangles…this is going to be amazing. We’re ready to see Rome in all her glory! We enter the Museum and are treated to a series of marble and stone sculptures from before the time of Christ, mainly representing the rich and noble, an emperor here and there and a figure or two from Roman myth. We ponder the first few deeply but quickly realize there are hundreds more to be seen (just wait until Vatican Museum on Day 2). The next section has intricate, ancient flooring that are pieced together by small stones, the next section has primitive paintings. After a while they all seem to blend in and we’re wondering if we’ve got the right museum. Nothing is under bullet proof glass, and the museum is sparsely populated. And, frankly, aside from an ancient copy of the famous Discus Thrower (it’s still a copy we disappointedly think) we’re pretty bored. We pass up the opportunity to see the ancient Roman coin collection in the basement and we head to our restaurant, La Galina Bianca (The White Chicken). We’ve been looking forward to our first Italian meal all day and the restaurant doesn’t disappoint. We enjoy wood-fired pizza and catch some store-bought gelato on the way home. We pick up the Rick Steves guide-book to confirm that we had the right museum. Sure enough, it’s rated three triangles and (according to Rick) contains one of the premiere collections of ancient statues and busts in all of Europe. We decide we must not be as intellectual as Rick (whom we start to refer to as “Brick”) and secretly start distrusting him from that time onward. We crash in our pad and prepare for a big, big day on the town tomorrow.
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