Roman Holiday

And I'm not just making a cutsie reference to the Audrey Hepburn/Gregory Peck movie. Rome is really on holiday today and tomorrow, and I have no idea why.



But that means that everything is either closed (like the Sistine Chapel and all the stores) or packed with hours of waiting (like the Vatican and Bocca della Verità.)



We waited in line for an hour at least for the Vatican to go to the Cupola (7€ for an elevator + 321 stairs, 5€ for 551 stairs. We chose the stairs.) It was worth it... despite the packed, dizzyingly small, spiral stairs... and the cost... to get to the top and see all of Rome. Unfortunately, back in St. Peter's basilica, my camera ran out of memory and I had to put it away. And I failed to find any bracelets that had the Pope on it. We found some amazingly cheesy postcards with John Paul kissing fat babies with leprosy, and cards that demonstrated how much Benedict looks like Satan in comparison to other men of the Church. But no Pope bracelets. (Sorry, kiddies. Those were going to be my present for you.)



We didn't make it to any ruins or the bocca because by then we were on a mission for, you guessed it, Chinese food! HOWEVER, the tourist maps we recieved from our hostel SUCKED and so even though I'm an excellent navigational director, we kept ending up on streets we weren't supposed to, and we legitimately walked around in a circle at least once. But the 6 hours of walking and stair climbing made the wontons all the more satisfying.



The train station Termini is totally scary and huge and in the worst part of town. Last night, Alli and I were impatient to find a hostel that Tirzah had recommended, but the line for Tourist Information was loooooooooooooooong and they didn't have maps readily available. After three failed attempts to find the Via Cavour, we waited in line for the damn map. And luckily too, since getting lost may have cost us a bedroom. As it were, we barely beat out another pair of traveling chickies by about three minutes.



This morning, we were woken up by about 10 minutes of incoherent bell ringing from Lord knows which church.



Alli and I watched some quality Italian TV, meaning: Will & Grace in Italian, MTv Italy, and Popular in Italian, a show that ran for about 2 seasons when I was in 8th grade. I loved it, and had forgotten about it until now.



I am really starting to like Acqua Minerale Frizzante.