As I will find out many times this trip (that I am sure of), not everything will go as planned...After getting my bags from the airport I walked what seemed like 3 million kilometers playing bumper luggage with many italians and other tourists to the train station. I bought my ticket to Staionze Ostiense the train that stops closest to my hotel on the Aventine hill. My sources (aka Trinity's pre-departure guide) told me that it was the 6th stop from the airport terminal. In reality it was the 10th; as you can imagine I was a little on edge: struggling with exhaustion, carrying 100 lbs of awkwardly shaped bags, and unable to read the station signs through the rain. After figuring out that I was the next stop by asking a Brazilian who complimented me on my english (I guess I don't look American) which to me is very big compliment. I'm not sure how she thought I was local since I was carrying all of my worldly possessions wearing vans, a orange and blue flannel shirt, and a new era fitted Diamondbacks baseball cap but none-the-less I'll take what I can get.
From the station landing I had to go downstairs to walk under the tracks down a hallway and then back up stairs to return to street level. It satisfied my exercise for the day (well my biceps at least; curls for girls right?). Next was the taxi, oh the taxi, oh Roman drivers. I thought LA and New York were bad; here people just go. Maybe its a machoism that I'm going this is my road or maybe there is some organization to it, but to the untrained I it is an adrenaline filled maze of vespas, taxis, mercedes and pedestrians (all of who are moving at the same time in all directions). At one point the driver decided to pull out in the middle of a 4 lane road to make a left near the tiber river; I looked to my left and 4 rows of headlights stared me down, to my right more cars also perpendicular to our direction but with vespas trying to get through knocking mirrors and people alike followed by a almost immediate "Che Cazzo" which means "Hey Dickhead" or something close to it. Never the less we made it to the Hotel where my fair was 8 euro. The driver then informed me that there is a luggage charge which I had heard of and wasn't a problem so the total was 14. The problem however exists when Wells Fargo at the Crossroads only carries 50s and the driver of your taxi only has a single 20 dollar bill in his wallet (or so he let's me believe). Trying to be sly he wanted to take my 50 and give me the 20 and said this is not my problem you pay. I said no freaking way am I paying you 30 euro (almost 50 bucks) for a 14 euro cab fee that should be 8 because as I know now luggage charge is only at night. He went on a rant in italian telling me, "stupid american I will come back tomorrow with another 20 for you" (Yea like that would happen). I said let me run in and get some change from the hotel, offended he finally relented and let me get change so that I could (over)pay him because the hotel only had 10s and 20s. So he got an extra 5 bucks out of me and if that makes him happy then so be it; have a beer on me and laugh about it with your friends, cazzo.
The Hotel is a nice friendly place run by a family (I think) headed by a very old matriarch who checked me in and asked her daughter (or employee, I wasn't so sure anymore) to let me into the room one floor up. It was quaint and perfect; a small twin bed, a desk and a window that overlooked the surrounding villas and the backyard adorned with the basketball hoop and all. (Notice how I didn't mention bathroom?) That was down the hall, my own which was nice, but still a schlep. Sleep was wonderful and I was woken up by a $1.29/minute phone call my parents who I had yet to check in with (Hey I was being polite, it was 5 am in Carmel when I landed). After the how is it? did you get there ok? yada yada yada and the I'm so jealous your over there the conversation was over and it was time for me to explore. I had read in Danny Meyer's book that his favorite restaurant and the one where he apprenticed was Taverna Da Giovanni. I looked it up on the map and planned on walking there (48 minutes) what else did I have to do and what a great way to introduce myself to the city. My plans were spoiled however when I reached the lobby and a girl from my program had just arrived and I was informed by the matriarch that I would be taking her out to dinner at Insalata Ricca. Had I just been set up on a sudo-blind date by my hotel owner/ concierge? The answer to that question seems to be yes, sit and wait while she moved into her room and then walk around Testaccio and have dinner.
Our evening progressed pretty much as planned by the matron. We walked (got lost) down the hill to the main street past a Pyramid and Castle (I will have to find out why these are here) not normally things you walk by in a city but another reason why Rome is so unique. I've always liked living and walking through history, a reason that I enjoyed DC so much and thought about going to school there since it is really the only city in our country with any historical feeling to it. There is just a great feeling of ah life will all work out when you're walking down cobblestone streets surrounded by battle ruins and aqueduct walls that have stood for centuries and centuries. It is amazing to see these rocks for down from so much foot traffic so that the streets are smooth like rocks you find in the river covered in algae.
Dinner was delicious (we some how made it to Insalata Ricca) where I orderd a Spaghetti Alla Carbonara (7 euro), a roman favorite, followed by a Veal Milanese (9,50) (forgive me, I forgot the italian fancy name that is so much cooler). The Carbonara was amazing; fresh homemade pasta in a rich creamy egg sauce that clung to the noodles like good italian food does (Thank you Heat for informing me of this). The pasta was also sprinkled with proscuitto that was salty, fatty, and melt in your mouth good. The milanese of veal, a thin pounded, breaded, and pan butter fried strip, challenged me to an eating contest. I had just wolfed down my first pasta in Italy and a now a new plate glared at me almost say I dare you, step up with the big boys be like an Italian. Garnished with a lemon which added the perfect amount of zing, I some how managed to get through the course. Oh! did I mention the Liter of House Red that we had been splitting this entire time? That may be my favorite aspect of restaurants here, you just say give me the house and it is one of the best wines I've had. Dinner wrapped up with a courtesy lemoncello shot on the house which neither of us needed but how could you refuse. She had pizza and we got out of the joint at a reasonable 31 euro for a wonderful meal that everyone wishes you could get in America but never will be able to. The restaurant was a cool spot, italian was spoken all over (always a good sign, I don't like being around tourists) and there was a table of coupled off young italian kids that reminded me of the homecoming and prom dinners that we had so many of in high school, yay group date night!
On the spur of the moment we walked up to the Colosseo walking around the entire thing with the moon lighting it up; a spectacular sight. I have a feeling I will be doing that fairly often, it is nice to see at night because it is empty; there are no tourists, no scam artists, only you and a giant stadium built in 72 a.d. that still trumps most football and baseball stadiums in the US (Oakland A's you know what I'm talking about). After reflecting and spending time at this site where so much blood had been shed (only wishing that I could have been there to witness and take part in, Hey that's what romans did). We stopped for a drink on the way back I had a beer she had a Martini and again we were honored with a courtesy shot of "Peace of Mind" a combination of vodka, triple sec, grenadine, and baileys all bundled up in a 1.5 ounce glass. Slightly inebriated from the booze and wasted off of the energy from the city we headed home.
Now it is morning and time to meet everyone from the program. Updates to come...
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