The Path Back
Our day, yesterday, was very "Roman." We spent it with our new guide, Marina, who our good buddy Bernardo had arranged at the last minute, and she couldn't have been nicer. Roman, herself, she was a fount of knowledge about the sites of her hometown. We met her across the street from Musei del Vaticano, or the Vatican Museums. Her bright red hair made it easy to follow her through the throngs of humanity surrounding the place. (There are a lot of people in Rome. A LOT.) She deftly guided us around the line and right into the museums, launching into an explanation of the many marble statues and busts, and the building itself. We viewed enormous tapestries that dated back to the first...
Gifts
So, I can now say that I've gone to a doctor in another country and survived. But it was an experience. Google told me that there was a tourist 24-hour walk-in clinic at the Nuovo Regina Margherita Hospital in Rome. I was encouraged by the fact that it was for tourists, hoping against hope that it meant English-speaking doctors were on hand. Regardless, I was going to have to go somewhere because I knew that my ears were infected, and flying home for 11 or so hours, on two different flights, wasn't going to go well otherwise (says the girl who has a ruptured eardrum in her repertoire). We grabbed a cab and headed out, being driven through a part of the city we had yet to see. It was...
The Sweet in the Sour
Yesterday, I woke up after only about an hour's sleep with what, by all appearances, seems to be a sinus infection. The night before, we walked into our hotel and I immediately pulled up my pants legs to reveal a big, angry rash all over them. They were so itchy, and I had no idea what it had all stemmed from. Within four hours, my sinuses started to fill and congestion overtook me, even effecting my voice and leaving me sounding husky. This was not how I intended to set foot in Rome, but that's exactly what happened. Filled to the brim with medicines, I gutted it up and got to the train for the short trip from Florence, arriving at our lovely little hotel exhausted. Determined to...
Locked Up Tight
Yesterday was our last day in Florence. We have absolutely loved this city. Romantic and beautiful, it was the place we wanted to mark in a special way. Remember when we found our daughter's friend's lock on one of the bridges in Paris? Well, we knew it was a tradition here, too, but it's illegal in Florence, so it has to be done on the sly. Even though it flies in the face of all that I am (Rule-follower? Anyone?), somehow this fact made it even more special. At first we couldn't find the locks. We were anticipating an entire bridge expanse packed solid like it was in Paris, so we were puzzled when we didn't see it right away. But as we walked across the famous and picturesque...
Under the Tuscan Sun
In my lifelong romantic notions of Italy, no other region has made my heart sing like Tuscany. Enter movies like "Under the Tuscan Sun," and I was ruined for it beyond repair. So, yesterday - the day we had set aside for a trip to the region - was possibly what I'd looked forward to most. It did not disappoint. Our new Floretine buddy, Bernardo (remember him?) strongly suggested a driver, which we'd heard before, but not arranged. He picked up his phone and called his friend Max, making all the arrangements. Max pulled up in a beautiful silver Mercedes, stepping out to introduce himself dressed in a stunning Italian suit, and looking like George Clooney. I kept having to stop myself...