left me to wait for the train and hiked up the connecting path. I guess in a way I felt adventurous, too: on my own in a foreign country, taking the train myself. Such a big boy. At least that was my way of looking at it.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a lady approaching me.
“Great,” I thought. “I’m going to have to use the little bit of Spanish I know (it’s as close to Italian as I can get) to tell her I don’t speak Italian.”
To my amazement, a distinctly Bostonian-accented voice asked if I knew the time. We struck up a conversation that continued on the train ride. God always knows just what we need when we need it. That lady helped put me at ease after the stress of not being able to conquer my fear of heights and being on my own in the CT.
I soon reunited with my friends and we explored the towns for awhile until dinner. We found a delightful outdoor restaurant with a gorgeous view. Wow, breathtaking! I’m not sure if it was the view that made our dinner taste so good, but that was definitely the best pesto I’ve ever had.
The theme song for the next segment of the trip was the B-52's hit, Roam. I think I looked most forward to visiting Rome than any other place. Just to see the Coliseum would be enough for me, but I discovered that Rome had much more to offer. Getting there in one piece was another story.
Romans are among the scariest drivers I’ve ever seen. Racing down Chicago’s expressways was nothing new to me, but in Rome, I feared for my life. Thankfully, no accidents occurred and we arrived safely.
On our way to see the Coliseum, we got sidetracked by a venue near the ruins of the Roman Senate that looked decked out to host a concert of some sort. Carmen, the member of our trio most susceptible to wanderlust, noticed a gap in the fenced off area and egged us on to sneak in. Bob hesitantly followed, but being the resident wuss of the group, I stayed back. They trespassed toward the tower of an ancient ruin shrouded in scaffolding. Before I knew it, Carmen was scaling the scaffolding while Bob tried in vain to talk her down off that ledge. Eventually, she relented and came down.
Once they squeezed back through the gate, though, an angry Italian woman lay in wait. Boy did she let them have it. I had naturally shied away and tried to blend in with some other tourists, but even from that distance I could tell the woman was furious. At the conclusion of her tirade, which distinctly included the word ‘polizia’ several times, Carmen and Bob shrugged ignorantly, and said, “English?” I doubt if this helped their cause. We high-tailed it out of there when the agitated matron stopped to catch her breath.
We forged ahead to the Coliseum but not before ducking into a bistro across the street. What a beautiful backdrop for a quick bite. We arrived a bit too late for the daily inside tours of the Coliseum, but I really didn't care. I was only too thrilled to be in such a historical place.
We also checked out the Trevi fountain, the Spanish Steps and other typical tourist sites. As the day came to a close, we made our way to the subway. Big mistake, at least as far as I was concerned. The way out to street level involved a trek up the tallest, steepest escalator I have ever seen. Talk about facing my fear. When I looked up, I could barely make out where the end was. Too late to turn back, I swallowed hard, held my breath, lowered my head down and held on for dear life. I made it fine, but I definitely wouldn't take the subway again.
The next day’s plan included a trip to the Vatican. While figuring out our next steps, we inadvertently latched in to a tour with a guide named Anna. The tour was free, at least for the first hour. She took us through St. Peter's Basilica pointing out and explaining all of the statues and such.
The second part of the tour, which included the Sistine Chapel, required a hefty fee, but we gladly paid and Anna’s professionalism and expertise were well worth it. Also since I shamelessly flirted with Anna the whole time, she made me stand behind a headless statue so the whole group could take funny pictures. We were close that way. The tour ended at the Sistine Chapel. We were continuously shushed by the guards and couldn't take pictures, but the artwork was truly awe-inspiring.
That evening, Bob and Carmen wanted to check out a few more sites and had their eyes set on a certain restaurant. I decided to head back to the hotel since my legs were starting to give out. We had walked around a ton and the fatigue really hit me harder than normal. Back at the hotel I hunkered down for the evening with some DVDs, only venturing out to a local panini shop when my stomach serenaded me with an ode to hunger. Florence awaited us the next day.
Soon, like Willie Nelson, we were “on the road again.” We made a bee-line for the Galleria dell’Accademia to ogle the Statue of David. I was surprised at how big it was. (I'm talking about the entire statue, of course.) Overall, Florence struck me as quite an artist’s haven, with plenty of great architecture and history to explore.
We got somewhat carried away in Florence and realized as we arrived at our military base lodging that we had forgotten to eat (besides some gelato earlier in the day of course). We drove around looking for a repast, but to no avail. Back at the barracks, we were greeted by a beacon of light calling to us: two vending machines shining brightly in the darkness. Mountain Dew and Cheetos sufficed as the dinner of choice for three weary travelers that night.
The next day, we planned on a day of fun in the sun at the “American Beach,” so named because the military types frequented it. Luckily for us, we pretty much had the entire beach to ourselves. We set up on the beach and ordered silly drinks. Boy, what a way to spend the day after being on the go non-stop since we stepped off the plane in Germany. And a gorgeous day it was! The glistening water lovingly whispered our names, and unable to resist her siren call, we plunged in for a dip. Ahhh, refreshing! How nice it was to be swimming in the Mediterranean Sea in friggin’ Italy.
We spent the full day there, lounging in the sun. In hindsight, maybe that wasn't such a great idea without sunscreen. Carmen had slathered herself with it, but Bob and I were too macho to bother with that (and would pay for it later). That night we found a nice little rustic Italian restaurant for dinner. The dessert course was quite memorable and Carmen’s was the most interesting; it came to the table flaming. The flames were so high that putting the fire out was a challenge that took the efforts and ingenuity of all three of us. We finally doused it, only to discover that the wad of gelato underneath was totally melted. I mean, who came up with the idea of flaming gelato? What a waste!
Tomorrow's journey would bring us to Pisa, so we settled down early. I tossed and turned all night. I'd like to say it was due to the excitement of getting to see the Leaning Tower the next day, but the truth is that my over-cooked and crispy skin kept me up. Showering and dressing were quite painful. Bob was in the same predicament and we each spent the next few days trying to inflict stealthy back slaps on each other just to rub it in, so to speak.
It was pretty cool being on location in front of the famed and oft-photographed Leaning Tower of Pisa, but I have to say it was pretty much in the middle of nowhere. That gelato stand across the street had my name on it, though. Naturally we had to identify ourselves as American tourists and do the classic “holding-up-the-Tower” pose. This was our last stop before heading back to Germany.
This part of the journey was a bit too roller coaster-like for my comfort: up into and down from the seemingly endless mountains. At one point, I had to close my eyes and crank up my MP3 player. A few words with the “Man upstairs” sure helped, too.
In Germany once again, Carmen and Bob decided to take a detour to hike up to this famous old castle. Of course, being polite, they asked if I wanted to hike with them. No way was I going to hike up there. I just stayed back in the car watching my DVDs on my laptop.
Darkness was settling in as we pulled in to Amberg, Germany, where Carmen lived. Carmen asked us if we wanted to go to Prague the next day. It was a tempting offer, but we opted out. A nice relaxing day at Carmen's house was just what we needed for our last day before returning to the States.
Waking up on our last full day on vacation was bittersweet. It would be nice to get back home; at the same time it had been wonderful to hang with Carmen and to get away from all the day-to-days. We planned on a back-porch barbeque that afternoon, so Carmen escorted us to the town square to get some baked goodies