Rome, Italy--Part 2

Rome, Italy--Part 2

For starters, I'm tired as hell in this city.  There are buses, trams, and the metro does help with some of the sights along the northern edge of the city.  However, it's just so easy to start walking on your way, turn a corner, and boom, the Piazza Navona.  Yesterday, I literally almost stumbled into the Trevi Fountain, which is bigger than the square it sits upon.  By 10pm, I'm simply wiped out, and it's likely due to me being too cocky to rest at midday.  So, let's highlight the biggest mistakes I've made, thus far, due to my cockiness.

COCKY MISTAKES:

1) Not having a modest map upon entry into a new city
2) Not having precise directions to my residence when exiting train or plane.
3) Not reading or caring about the fine print--that's the Ryanair right there.
4) And most importantly, thinking I can drink and sleep like I did five years ago.

Other than that, I'm settling in nicely to Rome.  The apartment operator comes in every morning and makes breakfast for me, which includes pastries, assorted meats, espresso, juice, and seasonal fruits.  She is also a tour guide, so she hooks me up with all the secrets--like how to bypass the 10 mile line at St. Peter's Basilica.  (Check out the line in pics 2, 3, and 4--it starts left of the basilica, moves farther left, then in front of me, and finishes to the right of the basilica)

I went to the grocery store yesterday, bought some pasta, wine, sausage, and cheese.  There's enough Nutella tucked away in this apartment to feed a Mongol horde.  I even went to the post office in the Vatican, which was far and away the best post office experience I've ever had.

For starters, I hate civil service institutions, and worse yet, I hate hate hate standing in line.  My own personal hell would merely by the line waiting to get in to the actual hell.  There were no lines, the attendant spoke like nine languages, and all I needed was my money and the address.  If only Catholicism was that efficient.

As far as sights today, I made it out to the old Appian way--ancient highway into the city--where I ventured into the catacombs of San Sebastian where the graves of St. Paul and Peter were once held.  I walked through the Spanish Steps, moseyed around the Piazza del Popolo, and had pizza margherita next to a woman with a chihuahua named "Paris Hilton" and a self-proclaimed difficulty eating due to the "sickness on the corners of her mouth".   Where I come from, that sickness is for life.  Thanks, lady.

LISTENING:  More jazz, and be patient with this one.

READING:  I, Claudius, Robert Graves

TIPS OF THE DAY:  How to find a decent restaurant.

1)  Avoid menu signs written in English
2)  Avoid restaurants with placards reading "We Accept Credit Cards"
3)  Avoid restaurants located around or near main tourist traps
4) And most importantly, examine the clientele.  If it looks like your Dad's golfing buddies sitting at a table, showcasing their menus with pointed fingers, you might want to keep walking.

By the way, what's with golf.  Why is everyone golfing now?  Whenever anyone asks me if I want to go golfing, my first reaction is, "I don't think I'm old enough."