If I hear One More Person Say "When In Rome..."

In Rome I was staying in yet another camping village, albeit a coinsiderably less shit camping village. It was a little way out of the city though, so I was required to get the hang of the Rome bus system and get my first taste of Roman traffic. First up, scooter riders are crazy. Secondly, people just love their car horns in Europe. It seems that the main driving 'ettiquette' is... to be rude. Unless you're in France, in which case driving ettiquette requires you running into as many things as humanly possible. They're good at it too. The most fun thing in Rome is crossing the roads though. If you hover at a pedestrian crossing, no one will stop for you, so you just have to walk into the street and hope you don't get mown down. They do always stop for you though. Courtney said that one day she was crossing a road in the usual way and she overheard a couple of middle aged American ladies conversing on how to cross the road. They saw Courtney cross and said 'Maybe you just do that...' to which the other said 'No, I think she's a local. It's probably different.' Huh? It seems many people do mistake us for locals though. There hasn't been a city yet where someone hasn't come up to me and started to ask me something in another language, only for me to stare blankly and say 'Sorry, I'm English.'

I loved Rome. However, lovely as Rome is, I was just about ready to swing punches by the time we left. The men are almost all disgusting. If one more person had wolf whistled, hissed or called out to us on the street by the time we left, they were going to get my boot in their face. My boot may or may not have been attached to my foot at the time. What happened to make the men of Rome think that this was appropriate or desirable behaviour?! EW!!! EWWWW!!!!!

Even with a map, Rome is a bit of a maze. Courtney, having been there before, was better at finding her way around that I was, and so on the first day suggested we meet at the Pantheon. Easier said than done. I wandered around in alleyways and back streets for about an hour before I found it. Considering it's a bloody big dome, you think it would be easy, but it's nestled in the middle of a block of taller buildings. Every now and then I'd see something big and old and think 'That's it!' only for it to be some other big old thing. Rome is good at big and old. Just about everywhere in Europe is incredibly half-hearted when it comes to sign posting too. They will erect a sign pointing into a big maze of buildings... and then not put up any other signs, leaving you more lost than you were to begin with. I suppose it's all part of the adventure. And in the end, the Pantheon was pretty swell. Those kids know their architecture!

Trevi Fountain

Spanish Steps. I thought they'd be bigger... One of the Busabout guides said that gypsy ladies hang around there with dolls wrapped up like babies and throw them at tourists. When the tourists catch them they stick their hands in your pockets and steal your junk. He said this happened to him once, so he headbutted the baby back at the lady, who proceeded to put a curse on him. Ha!

Next we hit up the Colosseum. As you do. I know it's been pillage of all it's good bit and half of it's gone, but it has more character that way. It all seems to be very well documented too, so it's not like we're really left wondering what it was like in its glory days. There isn't much to do once in there but soak up the fact that you're in the Colosseum. I sometimes think it's a little odd that it was a place where hundreds of thousands of people and animals were slaughtered, and yet it isn't treated as a tragic memorial, as would be done with other similar places. I suppose everyone over looks it because it all occurred so long ago. We then went to Palantine Hill in the sweltering heat and wandered around the olive trees looking at old stuff. Courtney has already told you about the lovely Alex, so I won't elaborate.

There is an old ruin in Rome that has been taken over by cats and was subsequently turned into a cat sanctuary. I dubbed it 'Cat Ghetto' only to find out that it is affectionately called 'The Catacombs.'

Catacombs.

A couple of days later we waited in line for a good two hours to get into The Vatican. It also chose to rain this day of all days. It was pretty half hearted rain fortunately. I did get sick of gypsies coming up and waving umbrella's and my face saying 'Umbrelli?' NO UMBRELLI!!! I'd rather get soaked than buy and umbrella from you. Once inside we walked through countless elaborate halls filled with countless elaborate artifacts. Courtney told me that there was a crazy Pope who went around and has all of the male statues in the place castrated. Loco... We entered the Sistine Chapel and discovered the Swiss Guard 'Shushers'. They stand in the chapel and constantly 'Shhh!' the crowd, who constantly ignore them. Every now and then they yell 'No talking!' or 'No pictures!' and then clap really loudly only for people to pipe down briefly... and then start talking again. I wonder if all the guargs draw straws and the ones with the short straws get the shushing job. The Chapel was magnificent of course...  don't know where I got it in my head, but I thought it would be bigger and dome-ier. It was sort of rectangular though. The paintings on the ceiling all looked three dimensional, which was pretty impressive. My favourite part was the giant wall that is completely painted with one scene. Apparently they cleaned the chapel in the 80's as it had become covered with soot from all the candles lit in there. There is a small patch that they left which is almost black. I heard there was a bit of a debate as to whether they should leave it as it was, but I'm glad they didn't. Face it, if the chapel was in France, they'd still be debating it.
We then snaked our way to St Peter's Cathedral. We'd forgotten to wear sleeves, so our heathen shoulders were showing. Courtney attempted to get in and was told to leave by one guy... so we melted into a crowd and snuck in anyway. It was gorgeous. We made it most of the way around before we were apprehended and escorted out. Bad ass.

Cat friend at the camp ground. I witnessed another cat chasing a grasshopper. Cats are stupid.

My hostel was rubbish, but Courtney's had a kitchen so I went there every night to cook and eat dinner with her. It was so nice to be able to cook properly again after so long. We made some dangerously awesome risotto and pasta and vegie stir fry. The best thing about risotto, other than that it tastes boss, is that everyone thinks it's really impressive and fancy. It's so not. Stand at a stove long enough though, and everyone thinks you're a masterful chef (not to be confused with Master Chef) Which of course, we are. Cafe's in Rome are lame too. I just won't ever get my head around the idea of having to pay in order to sit down. Pangs of pub culture nostalgia ensued. Every city I've been in has had an Irish pub though, so I suppose you can get it if you want it.

Courtney's hostel had a little patio sort of thing that we sat on (with the lovely girls we met from Canberra) most nights, chillin' and watching the sun set on the nice warm coloured buildings. In Rome, five stories up from the street, I realised that I really like the sound of traffic now. In the same way that I love doing laundry over here, I'll probably return to Australia and realise I actually hate it. Also, most of the traffic is made up of little beaten up Fiats. I want a Fiat!!! Damn you Australia!!

All the Vatican photo's I took are on Courtney's camera, but I'll try to put some up with my Venice ones.

Loved Rome, and I'm currently loving France. Miss you all lots.

Love Bron xoxox