The silence was deafening. "Are you still there?" I asked, thinking we lost the cell phone connection. He must have been in shock because at least 45 seconds went by and he still had not uttered a single word. Why you ask?
Our friends live in Athens. GREECE.
Yes. I know. I am indeed, an idiot. I also realize that I may never...ever...live this story down. Ah well. Let's just say that geography was never a strength of mine. And blond hasn't been my true color since about the age of 10.
So back to Rome. Talk about one incredible city! From the moment we stepped off the Leonardo Express (a train from the airport), we felt like the city just surrounded you and made you feel welcome. The people were friendly, the weather was beautiful. It could be the only place on earth where the cabbies hound you for a date instead of a fare.
We stayed at a beautiful hotel called the Hotel Eden and it was utterly fabulous, romantic and oh so shi-shi. We were just a quick walk from the Metro station, the Spanish steps and this little shopping area with all my never-frequented yet absolute-favorite-and-if-I-had-the-means-I'd-live-in stores: Chanel, Prada, Dior, Gucci, Hermes (by the way...FYI don't touch their bags or you'll get yelled at like I did), D&G, Louis V and Armani. It was quite a material playground for those with bank accounts sitting off-shore in the Caymans.
On our way to the Spanish Steps:
And here is the view from them:
And in case you'd like to find the material mecca:
The night we arrived we stumbled upon a little gem of a restaurant. The food was delicious, the ambiance was decent but the best part was the wine. Actually, it was crap to be honest, but it was only 8 Euros for an entire carafe. We would find, in the nights to come, that an 8 Euro bottle of wine was more difficult to find than a bar without stripper poles. (I'll explain that one a bit later).
There is SO much to see in Rome that there was no way we could have done it all in two short days. So we rounded down our sightseeing into three main things: Piazza San Pietro (St. Peter's Square), the Sistine Chapel and the Colosseum.
Our first stop, after having a pizza for breakfast, was St. Peter's square which is in the Vatican City, directly in front of St. Peter's Basilica. Did you know that the Vatican is a country in and of itself? I had absolutely no idea (by now, that's probably not surprising to many of you I'm sure. Ha.Ha.). As we're waiting in line, taking the obligatory self-portraits
we hear about a "free tour for English speakers". Instantly my BS radar goes up and out pops cynical Kerrie. So, for the hell of it, we tag along and as the guide is talking about the square, it's obelisk and the history of it all, I begin to question his motives. By now the crowd has grown and we're pushing our way through the crowded line. Consistently and methodically we were, as a group, jumping the line...ahead of people NOT on the tour. So while cynical Kerrie is waiting for the shoe to drop, competitive Kerrie is stoked because we're "legally" and quite unabashedly queue jumping. Surely the man has never been to England. By the time we arrived at the entrance of the Basilica we were given headsets and were officially caught up in tour.
Standing in the square is quite a feeling. You look around and on all sides you are surrounded by greatness and the sense of history is almost overpowering. I just kept wondering to myself how on earth all of this was created and how remarkable the architects and people of that time were. The number of Saints looking down on you from above almost outnumber the pigeons.
Here is the Holy Door that is only opened during the Jubilee Years.
And the view looking back on the square from the steps of the Basilica:
The first thing you notice when you're up close to the Basilica is it's sheer size. It is astronomical. It covers 5.7 acres and can hold up to 60,000 people inside. Here's some perspective...the Air Force Academy Football Stadium can hold about 54,000 people. The following picture doesn't do the size justice.
The dome, designed by Michelangelo, is almost 400 feet in height.
Below it resides Berninis canopy, a 90 ton bronze altar and below that, rests St. Peter, peaceful in his tomb. Or so we were told...wikipedia however says that's not true. Some tour guide huh?! And of course, there is Michelangelo's Pieta, one of the most beautiful and moving sculpture ever created. Since a crazy Eastern European tried to destroy the sculpture with a hammer, they've put her behind bulletproof glass. Bulletproof glass does nothing to aid in the ability to take good pictures so I borrowed this one from the web (thanks again wiki!).
Once the "Absolutely Free" Basilica tour ended, he was willing to take us all on a much more elaborate tour of the Sistine Chapel for 25 Euros a piece. We figured, why stop now. We were escorted to a nearby cafe where we handed over the cash and in return were given small yellow stickers in the shape of a dot. It was supposedly to ID us as "PAID" and part of his tour group. I merely stood back and watch, secretly hoping to catch his gang of gypsies spotting the easy marks. I mean, it wasn't hard...we were all sportin' the bright yellow dots for crying out loud! Just in case this guy was a real sleaze though, I took his picture. That way, I could show it to the cops if anything shady happened to us. Yes, I've watched too much C.S.I. At least I didn't go so far as to leave my hair all over the place for the DNA...but it certainly crossed my mind!
Well, the Pope must have known that the Dunkers were going to be in town because he made no plans that weekend. And if we hadn't already signed up for the Chapel tour we'd have joined him for a big ol' glass of Merlot. You can tell he's home since he's shudders are open (2d from the right, top floor).
Turns out, all in all our guide was decent. We were pretty happy we got sucked in and were more satisfied that it wasn't us that ended up the easy mark. The poor gal that did however, had a southern drawl so thick that I think the gypsies picked up on it just by reading her mind. Picking pockets in the Vatican...I'd love to be a fly on the wall when that guy tries to explain that one to St. Peter!
Off we went in search of the Sistine Chapel. On our way we saw the hall of tapestries and we were able to bear witness to many of Raphael's frescos. Once we were in the chapel however we were speechless. It is such a sight to behold and I can find no words to accurately describe the feeling you have when standing there staring at the ceiling. You aren't allowed to take pictures because of what the camera flashes will eventually do to the ceiling. So, I didn't use a flash and had Matthew run some interference. The first picture below is of the actual ceiling. I had to lighten it up a bit after but it's not bad if I do say so myself! The second is of a poster showing the back wall...my picture didn't turn out at all.
We had had big plans to eat early, take a nap and then go out for a night of bar hopping and wine tasting. We managed the early dinner and the nap but unfortunately when we woke up at 9 AM from said nap, but by that time, the 'getting a drink' bit didn't sound so appetizing. Instead we got a $12 cappuccino the size of one of Avery's miniature toy teacups.
Day Two was our day at the Colosseum. We managed to fend for ourselves and not get sucked into any freebie tours. As soon as we walked out of the Metro station...there it was.
Huge. Massive. Colossal. Again, another sight I have trouble accurately describing. Upon entering the Colosseum I was struck by how cold it was and I couldn't help but wonder if that had something to do with how many souls were lost during it's heyday. On more than one occasion I found myself with chills while looking into the animal and slave cells that were just below the Colosseum floor.
These days though, the only beast roaming this stone structure is that of this little ferocious one:
Since we had some time to kill we took a walk through the Palatine Hills. This area is one of the most ancient parts of the city. To this day they are still excavating parts of it and in 2006, archaeologists found the Palatine House. Supposedly it was the birthplace of Rome's first emperor, Augustus. We didn't know where it was but here are some great pics of the hills and some of the amazing structures in it.
The rest of our time in Rome was spent wandering the streets, checking out the stores and staring, in awe, at the architecture. Every street held something beautiful and so full of history you get the goose bumps. And that dear friends, was about it for our trip to the wondrous and romantic city of Rome.
...
Oh yes, I almost forgot. The stripper poles.
So it's our first night and after dinner we thought we'd go find a bar, hang out and have a few beers to celebrate our mini-getaway sans children. We thought it was early (we failed to change the time on Matt's watch) so we wandered around for awhile with no luck. It was about 1:30am and most everything was, of course, closed for the evening. But we managed to keep running into mafia-looking men in long coats standing outside certain drinking establishments. We purposely steered clear of those that had flashing, neon "LAP DANCE" signs but were finding those more often than not. However, as we approached one little place, there were no signs and the man out front was very pleasant. He looked like anybody's grandpa.
As soon as I stepped foot into the bar I was struck with the sight of two brass poles in the middle of the floor, set atop a little platform. Immediately I turned around to Matt and muttered under my breath...THIS IS A STRIP JOINT! He looked at me like I was crazy and said..."it is not". As habit would have it, the second thing I did upon entering the bar was scan the room. Here is what I saw:
1. Hardly any tables but LOTS of couches.
2. Way too many mirrors.
3. Very old men dancing incredibly close with women 30 years their junior.
4. 10 to 1 in favor of men.
5. Glittery, sparkly eyeshadow, 6 inch heels, some seriously blond wigs and red lipstick on everyone but the 4 men the joint.
6. Woman in the corner, sitting alone smoking a cigarette with one of those long plastic thingys attached to it, dressed in all white leather, black hair and wait...that's not a woman. Man trying to be a woman...
OKAY. I'm OUT. We're done here. But no. My innocent, dear sweet Matthew was still in denial that this was a bar of ill repute. Hmmm...you're probably thinking this was intentional? Believe it or not, I don't think he had a clue. Only after I dug my nails into his arm and led him back out the entrance did he notice that the poles were, in fact, not there to hold up the ceiling. Perhaps we should have noticed the mirrored windows on our way in...I actually just thought they put them there so us chicas could check out our hair :)
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