Sigh. How do I say this nicely...Rome and I...we didn't click. I am a worrier, but I need to go back a little farther for that comment to have any relevance on Rome. The trip started with me forgetting most of my underwear. Washing my underwear in the sink every other day was lame. On a seperate note, it was brought to my over-sight that I would be started work on August 7 and I wouldn't even be leaving Wisconsin (by car - a two day drive) from my brother's upcoming wedding until that day. I stressed about these things for days. And then my dream destination, Venice, began to sink in. I ate wonderful food, met fun people, saw beautiful scenery, and had fun shopping over the following 11 days. I had 4 days left of the trip of a lifetime (2 days with the group), and while Virginia played Dean Martin's renditions of "That's Amore," "Volare," "Mambo Italiano," and "Return to Me" as our bus pulled onto Roman soil, my eyes got a little moist and I had to put on my sunglasses rather quickly as I was overcome by the building nostalgia of a trip I wasn't even done with yet.
But then Virginia started telling us how to cross the street in Rome (you are basically taking your life into your hands). And how there were 7 cars to every 10 people. And that the subways don't open until 5:30 am (I have to be at the airport to check in by 4:30 am). And that if we never wore our money belts anywhere else in Italy, we HAD to put them on now because we would constantly be walking targets by the most skilled pickpockets known to humankind. And our bus driver Dino was narrowly missing cars and buses and scooters and people as he drove us as close to our hotel as possible (not because he was a bad driver, it's just that tight of a drive). And, and, and...My stomach began to churn. I had four days to figure out how to get to the airport, but it became an all-consuming worry. At 2.8 million people, it was not the largest city I have been in, but I felt overwhelmed seeing the floods of people walking down the streets, the cars parked in road medians two rows deep because of lack of parking space, streets so closely packed with parked motorcycles and scooters that you wouldn't be able to walk in between them...it was OVERLOAD. Add in emergency vehicle sirens every few minutes and rude tourist information office attendees, and that about paints it right. And if I was tired of looking at maps before, Rome was the most confusing city to navigate of them all if we strayed from a main streets - the names of streets are long and often change every few blocks, and on a map of a city this large, SEEING the street names on the map could be near impossible. Without Venice's canals and bridges and Florence's more frequent piazzas to supply a frame of reference, I felt lost most of the time. And not in a good way. This city just pissed me off. Was I tired? Yes. Was I ready to go home? Yes. Were my feet done? Yes. Was I done washing my clothes in the sink? Yes. Was I suffering from major PMS? Absolutely. Did I take it out on Rome, and worse, Ann? Yes. Did I still see amazing things? Yes. Do I need to go back? No.
The round trip ride took almost 2 hours, but it did little to impress or calm me. I felt like there would be no saving this city for me, and was sad that I would be spending my last days and the longest amount of time in a place I already felt so much dislike for. I was mad at myself for being so grumpy inside, and confused as to why. Luckily and unbeknownst to me, my soul would be put more at ease by something unexpected.
You know what it was? This...and do NOT judge me for it!!!!
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1 comment:
Ha! It's automatically cooler because it's Italian McDonalds. And the traffic looks like a nightmare.
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