Roma, Pizza and Gelatto

My limited Czech is a constant source of troubles in Prague. That said, I've dedicated a fair amount of time looking up new words, memorizing important phrases, and even listening to a few language courses on tape. The progress is still slow, however, I've gotten to a point where if I come up against someone (say a Post Office official) who speaks no English, I am not entirely helpless, just mostly helpless. That said, the Czechs are somewhere in the height of language snobbery, possibly topping the Parisians. There's no "Thanks-For-Trying" smile. Most of the time, I can say a sentence to a Czech, and unless I get it all perfectly right, they ignore what I said. For instance, when I was explaining to the new security guard at P&G that I needed the keys to my classroom, she took issue with my pronunciation of yellow (the color of the key chain) and thus ignored my request, even when I spelled the Czech word for it. The result has been a heaping on to my already thorough anxiety about using other languages. Often it's not that I don't know the word, I just get nervous using it around native speakers (whether that's German, Czech, or Italian).

I went into our weekend trip to Rome with a few refresher web courses under my belt and the notion that despite my Czech setbacks I would just go for it, and damn the Italians that snickered about my horrid pronunciation or incorrect grammatical structures. What a wonderful surprise that my first attempt (at a pasta place near the Vatican) was met with not only a smile but comprehension. Of course he spoke wonderful English and we thus used our native tongues throughout the meal, but it was a nice shot of confidence.

Now out of my neuroses and into Rome. What a city. There's a might to Rome that I haven't seen matched yet. We've all seen pictures of the Colosseum, Trevi Fountain, the Pantheon, and everything else that makes printing brochures about the city the easiest thing in the world, but seeing them in person is much more satisfying. Pictures don't quite do justice to the grandeur of Capitol Hill, or the giant columns on the forum.

We left a Prague of fine snow whipping the sidewalks into unwalkable stretches of Siberian tundra, and jumped on a morning flight. After landing to a balmy 50-degree sunshine and a cab/van ride to our apartment and checking out the less-than-hospitable digs, we set out (all 8 of us: Alex, Liz, Pat Buckle, Lindsey, 3 Czechs, and me) towards the nearest metro. Unfortunately I took a wrong turn and led us a few blocks out of the way. That was enough time for the Czechs, and consequently Buckle, to decided that me leading was not their best option, and so we separated: Lindsey, Alex, Liz and I going to the Vatican via metro, the other four (let's call them group B) venturing off to god-knows-where. After the flight, the walking and the metro, we were all ready for a meal and a frothy espresso. We found a place I'd made a note of from a few travel sites a few blocks away and stuffed ourselves full of hearty homemade pasta and caffeine. We then went to St. Peter's Basilica. The square, impressive and dominated by the largest Catholic church on the planet, was sprinkled with sun-soaking Romans and wrapped in a line of impatient Catholics about as long as that kind of line could be. We decided, after seeing the inchworm pace of the queue, to forego the basilica and possibly get it the next day (which we didn't) or on a return trip when we have more time...and money.

From the Vatican, we headed to Castel Sant'Angelo for the views, and explored the bridge there (a mini Charles Bridge) before walking along the river markets and winding up at the Piazza del Popolo. As the sunset, we walked to the Spanish Steps for a few pictures before meandering to Trevi fountain (both of which, like most of Rome, exceeded any preconceived notions we had about them). We then checked out the Forum and Capitol before making it to a pizzeria and then going to a fantastic wine bar to sample some memorable Chianti and Pinot Noir. We made a detour on our walk home to see the Colosseum, which is even more imposing at night.

Day two was our Roman shuffle. We were out the door at 9ish, and had espresso and pastry at a cafe down the street buzzing with locals out for their Saturday morning fix. Properly fueled, we went to the Colosseum. I had read on a few websites that you could get a day pass for most of the Roman sites, and so while the ladies waited in line, Alex and I set off around the premises to ask (using most of my Italian skills) where to get this. Sadly, we found out that we just had to wait in line like the rest, unless we wanted to shell out for a three-day pass. Even sadder, by the time we found that out, the girls had made it to the front of the line, and unable to get in touch with us (we had some phone issues), they simply gave up their spots and the waiting started anew. We eventually made it inside. Instead of describing it, I'll just put a link to our pictures. Just know that it was much cooler than our pictures.

After the Colosseum, we walked through the ruins on Palatine Hill (see above for the pictures). This was the highlight of our trip, as the sun was out, we strolled relaxedly through the ruins, taking in views of the Circus Maximus (I was jealous of the guy jogging around it) and basking in the spring-like weather. If we'd had the time, we would have stayed all day, maybe even camped out there.

We lunched on pizza on the Spanish Steps, savoring the sun, and then grabbing (as we did after most of our meals...breakfast included) some gelato. We parted ways from there, Liz and Alex went on to saunter through that area of town while Lindsey and I ran back to the flat to talk to our host/landlord/front desk guy about getting a 5:30 a.m. taxi to the airport. Unfortunately he was nowhere to be found, and so we went to the train station to barter with cab drivers (yet another test of my Italian). Not finding an honest cabby, as they all seemed to think we had no idea how much a taxi should cost. We finally found a tourist desk, who gave us the number for a cab company, who were more than fair in their fares.

We met up with Liz and Alex at the Piazza Navona after tearing across the city, snapping photos of a fiery sunset. We hung out there for a few minutes, watching a play for children (which we guessed was part of the Carnivale festivities). There were parts of this play that involved the kids shouting at the stage, which made me think of my older Ray cousin.

From Piazza Navona, we went to the Pantheon (also better than advertised and also better in pictures). We did hors d’ oeuvres around the corner from there, scoring a free bottle of wine after appearing apprehensive about eating at the place. We paid for it with our first unsatisfactory service of the trip, aside from the apartment, but it was worth the price. We then made it to another restaurant for a main meal, which we finished with some fantastic desserts and some gratis dessert wine. It was remarkably refreshing to deal with waiters who actually smiled, chatted, and treated us as customers rather than inconveniences.

We spent the rest of the night walking amongst ruins and saying our goodbyes to the city, the lights, and the grandeur.

Our walk home was peaceful until we reached our street. Across the street from our building, a fight was breaking out in a Vietnamese nightclub. As we passed the entrance, we saw two men grappling in a crowd, and one of them pulled the other's face near his and bit his ear. Let's hear that again: he BIT his ear. Shaking off our urge to gawk, we shuffled into our rooms, but cracked the window to keep an ear on things. This proved to be even worse than watching, as the club was just out of sight, but we could hear two distinct gunshots (or gun-like fireworks). So we hit the hay, and tried the tune out the sounds of murder outside.

Our return trip was unremarkable, save for the cabby who averaged about 100 mph on the way there, and the heavy down of snow on the tarmac. We spent the rest of the day resting our overworked legs and reflecting on how incredible our trip had been. On the whole, Rome was much more impressive than our temporary home, but Prague is still the more beautiful city. That said, the people were much more friendly (although turning down a gypsy shoving a rose in your face every ten minutes got a bit annoying) and the weather was a nice respite from our continuing winter. It also gave us some hope for spring here, where we can walk around without doubling over to protect ourselves from the wind and sleet.