Rome

As I am posting this from Rome, my computer is using blogspot.it, so all the instructions for posting are in Italian, although not Italics.  Some words are easy to recognize, like "permalink" and "feedback", and others I recognize from their position on the page and similarity to English or Latin.

The flight was uneventful.  I knitted, I think I got some sleep, I watched Guardians of the Galaxy 2, I got a dinner and breakfast that did seem to actually be gluten-free.  Dinner was salad, a rice cake to substitute for everybody else's roll, and ravioli with red pepper-kale-vodka sauce.  Wouldn't be my first choice, but as an only choice it wasn't bad, except for burping up red pepper.  We came in to Fiumicino airport, and looking out the right side windows I could see fields and sea, and on the left there were mountains barely visible through mist.

The few times I have flown overseas, they give you customs declarations forms to fill out before the plane lands.  Not here.  We did have to stand in a horrendous line to get through passport clearance, but the guy took my passport, stamped it, and just gave it back once I got to him.  No questions, no "business or pleasure", no checking to see whether I was going to become an illegal alien.  Okay, whatever.  That freed me to find my driver.  He was a nice enough guy, but that was a heart-stopping ride.  Traffic did seem to obey traffic signals, but lines on the road are merely a suggestion, especially because streets are narrow and there are tiny cars parked everywhere along them.  I don't know how we avoided scraping other cars - I have never been that close to other moving cars in my life.  The radio in the limo was playing Katy Perry's "I Kissed a Girl" and other American pop, and the DJs sounded just like their American counterparts in speed and intonation.  We passed colorful graffiti and yoga studios and thick ancient walls around the Vatican and Rome.  At one red light a bald older man with a fluorescent orange ball walked across in front of the car, talking to the driver (maybe, could have been himself).  He then proceeded to head the ball about 20 times.  The driver explained that the man was a famous Romanian soccer player from years ago.  After the performance, the driver gave him a few coins because apparently he had fallen on hard times.  I saw other beggars on the street.  Plenty of English here and there, like "self-service".

Of course the hotel room wasn't ready, because it was only about 10 am, so I locked up my suitcases and went for a walk.  There are little stands all over the place selling drinks and magazines and random junk, but no decent maps.  Very little was open, and I was puzzled because I thought it was Saturday.  Well, it was when I got on the plane.  Finding a restaurant for dinner might be tricky, but now that I am finally in my room and in possession of my laptop I can combine "Find me gluten free" and Google maps and get some better idea than I could on my phone.  Phones - I have my usual phone which has no phone service here, an internation phone that can get calls, and a secure wifi hotspot which unfortunately is slow.  I have a second wifi for Spain, and extra batteries, all for about $9 a day.

And here is my room.

Nope, I don't think I'm going to attempt the bidet.  The bed is pretty, but hard as a rock, or maybe some fine Italian marble.

Time to scope out some food.  Tomorrow looks strenuous, a half-hour walk to the meeting point at the Colosseum, then 3 hours of a walking tour and a half-hour walk back, unless I manage to get and figure out a bus pass.  I wasn't sure what to expect from a Perillo tour - would there be a group all going to the same place for each day trip?  I guess I'll find out tomorrow when I leave the hotel.  There are plenty of Americans here but whether they are doing what I'm doing I don't know.