Arrival in Rome
July 2, 2009
I have lived in Italy for two years, and had never gone to Rome. When I had fallen in love with Milan's Piazza del Duomo, Ceci, a colleague said, "Wait until Rome! If it is possible to make love to a city, you will want to have sex with Rome. I am not kidding!" she said, and actually shuttered. I believed her, after all, this is the same colleague that told me my ass would surely earn a master's degree in Italy.
Amy, the week after school had ended, offered to go to Rome with me. The pressure was starting to mount and I am sure I was anything but fun to be around. My heart was continually racing and I wondered how on earth I was going to calm down enough to actually enjoy the trip. I felt pressure. I had been a resident of Italy for two years, how on earth did I still know so little? Justin reassured me, he didn't care and he was happy to pretend we were both new to Italy.
"Let's just be ridiculous tourists snapping pictures and looking at maps!"
But I secretly wondered how someone so smart could really feel that way, how could he not look at me and think, 'what has this girl been doing all this time?'
(Gelato... I do know my gelato flavors)
"We should go...." I said to Amy considering putting our covert plan into action. She could take me, tell me all the things I need to know and voila a suitable tour guide at your service.
"OK!" Amy said immediately game and added, "that way you would see Rome for the first time with...." quoting Gwyneth Paltrow's father who took Gwyneth to Paris on her sixteen birthday because he believed she should see Paris for the first time with someone who would always love her.
I giggled, "Justin would KILL ME!" Amy and I didn't go and it was Justin who was holding my hand as I stepped off the train and was first introduced to Rome. Ceci was right, I fell in love. We went to the hotel and I put on a black strapless dress and when Justin told me I looked beautiful, I replied, "I want it to be love at first sight. I am wooing Rome tonight."
We headed to Campo di Fiori and found a seat at the Obiki Mozzarella Bar, a place that has great aperitivo in Milan. I am not a fan of chains but I decided to take the proverbial bone the universe had thrown me and said, "How about here? What do you think?" Which if you know me at all, is a small miracle.
We found a table outside as we watched the blue storm clouds expand across the sky and soon we were standing Italian style at a table inside worrying about the flower sellers getting drenched in the downpour. Justin got his bottle of Rose in a bucket of ice, as I winked a thank you at the universe. I felt my heart settle, as I sipped the wine and watched the rain come down in the piazza. We ordered fresh mozzarella, pesto and tomatoes and piled it on bread and ate and talked and let the rain fall. In that moment there was no where else I would rather be.
Gnomar, Justin's ‘gnome away from home’, sat at our table as Justin took pictures of him to send to his friend Sarah, who had given Justin Gnomar as a traveling gift or perhaps she thought he needed a chaperone. It had been ridiculous, but fun. Gnomar had been on the roof of the Duomo, had spun on the Bull’s Balls and now he had just finished a glass of wine with aperitivo. At the same time, our faces lit up.
“We gotta get his picture!” I said, and grabbed the camera and Gnomar from Justin and before I knew it I was out the door.
"Excuse me, do you speak English?"
"Um... yes." the tall man in front of me said puzzled looking over at his friend.
"Hi!” I said giving him that creepy smile I sometimes get after drinking a couple glasses of wine. “I have a weird request. You see my friend…” pointing at Justin through the window, “has this gnome” lifting up Gnomar, “and well, you have a gnome on your shirt” a finger at his chest, “and I was wondering if I could take a picture?” Did I really need to show him the camera? “With you and the gnome?" I ended, I hate to admit it with another all-teeth smile.
"Um,” he looked at his friend again, “OK!" he said with a shrug.
"Yessss, this is PERFECT!"
A couple snaps and I was back in front of Justin, laughing. The storm passed and soon we were wandering the city. The night arrived and we did many of the things a couple would do in Rome. We said, no to the flower sellers at least seventeen hundred times. Snapped pictures at the Trevi Fountain and Spanish Steps, ate Gelato AND picked a place to eat.
It was 10:30 and again we were starving, a common theme of the trip. In fact Justin had wondered out loud once, how anyone could actually gain weight in Italy. We had found a place that looked good, but they had stopped serving food. We opted for an outdoor spot at another place and quickly ordered. We soon realized we had been tricked, ahh a tourist trap! Justin’s lasagna and my spaghetti with carbonara sauce was quickly delivered we started eating.
“Tell me what this tastes like.” He finally said, after the hunger had subsided and we were able to again resume conversation and actually taste our food.
“Chef Boyardee!” I said immediately.
“Chef Boyardee LIVES IN ITALY!” Justin proclaimed a little too loudly.
I have lived in Italy for two years, and had never gone to Rome. When I had fallen in love with Milan's Piazza del Duomo, Ceci, a colleague said, "Wait until Rome! If it is possible to make love to a city, you will want to have sex with Rome. I am not kidding!" she said, and actually shuttered. I believed her, after all, this is the same colleague that told me my ass would surely earn a master's degree in Italy.
Amy, the week after school had ended, offered to go to Rome with me. The pressure was starting to mount and I am sure I was anything but fun to be around. My heart was continually racing and I wondered how on earth I was going to calm down enough to actually enjoy the trip. I felt pressure. I had been a resident of Italy for two years, how on earth did I still know so little? Justin reassured me, he didn't care and he was happy to pretend we were both new to Italy.
"Let's just be ridiculous tourists snapping pictures and looking at maps!"
But I secretly wondered how someone so smart could really feel that way, how could he not look at me and think, 'what has this girl been doing all this time?'
(Gelato... I do know my gelato flavors)
"We should go...." I said to Amy considering putting our covert plan into action. She could take me, tell me all the things I need to know and voila a suitable tour guide at your service.
"OK!" Amy said immediately game and added, "that way you would see Rome for the first time with...." quoting Gwyneth Paltrow's father who took Gwyneth to Paris on her sixteen birthday because he believed she should see Paris for the first time with someone who would always love her.
I giggled, "Justin would KILL ME!" Amy and I didn't go and it was Justin who was holding my hand as I stepped off the train and was first introduced to Rome. Ceci was right, I fell in love. We went to the hotel and I put on a black strapless dress and when Justin told me I looked beautiful, I replied, "I want it to be love at first sight. I am wooing Rome tonight."
We headed to Campo di Fiori and found a seat at the Obiki Mozzarella Bar, a place that has great aperitivo in Milan. I am not a fan of chains but I decided to take the proverbial bone the universe had thrown me and said, "How about here? What do you think?" Which if you know me at all, is a small miracle.
We found a table outside as we watched the blue storm clouds expand across the sky and soon we were standing Italian style at a table inside worrying about the flower sellers getting drenched in the downpour. Justin got his bottle of Rose in a bucket of ice, as I winked a thank you at the universe. I felt my heart settle, as I sipped the wine and watched the rain come down in the piazza. We ordered fresh mozzarella, pesto and tomatoes and piled it on bread and ate and talked and let the rain fall. In that moment there was no where else I would rather be.
Gnomar, Justin's ‘gnome away from home’, sat at our table as Justin took pictures of him to send to his friend Sarah, who had given Justin Gnomar as a traveling gift or perhaps she thought he needed a chaperone. It had been ridiculous, but fun. Gnomar had been on the roof of the Duomo, had spun on the Bull’s Balls and now he had just finished a glass of wine with aperitivo. At the same time, our faces lit up.
“We gotta get his picture!” I said, and grabbed the camera and Gnomar from Justin and before I knew it I was out the door.
"Excuse me, do you speak English?"
"Um... yes." the tall man in front of me said puzzled looking over at his friend.
"Hi!” I said giving him that creepy smile I sometimes get after drinking a couple glasses of wine. “I have a weird request. You see my friend…” pointing at Justin through the window, “has this gnome” lifting up Gnomar, “and well, you have a gnome on your shirt” a finger at his chest, “and I was wondering if I could take a picture?” Did I really need to show him the camera? “With you and the gnome?" I ended, I hate to admit it with another all-teeth smile.
"Um,” he looked at his friend again, “OK!" he said with a shrug.
"Yessss, this is PERFECT!"
A couple snaps and I was back in front of Justin, laughing. The storm passed and soon we were wandering the city. The night arrived and we did many of the things a couple would do in Rome. We said, no to the flower sellers at least seventeen hundred times. Snapped pictures at the Trevi Fountain and Spanish Steps, ate Gelato AND picked a place to eat.
It was 10:30 and again we were starving, a common theme of the trip. In fact Justin had wondered out loud once, how anyone could actually gain weight in Italy. We had found a place that looked good, but they had stopped serving food. We opted for an outdoor spot at another place and quickly ordered. We soon realized we had been tricked, ahh a tourist trap! Justin’s lasagna and my spaghetti with carbonara sauce was quickly delivered we started eating.
“Tell me what this tastes like.” He finally said, after the hunger had subsided and we were able to again resume conversation and actually taste our food.
“Chef Boyardee!” I said immediately.
“Chef Boyardee LIVES IN ITALY!” Justin proclaimed a little too loudly.
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