Happy Birthday, From Rome! – Picture of the Day

Thursday, November 14, 2024

Today Benjamin is 35! I think this is the first year Keith and I have not played what were you doing 35 years ago RIGHT NOW for the past 48 hours. It was not smooth sailing getting that guy, but we have enjoyed knowing him every second since. In recent years we have not seen him on his day, because he was home, and we were home and somehow those homes were not the same place (compound life for the win? I say yes), but the distance seems very distant today. That has not stopped us from thinking of him and shopping as we have. First, I checked some of the thousands of choices of rosaries. I just couldn’t pick one. Then there was this guy:

I was concerned about weight on the plane. Since we are on an ITA flight first and Delta second, we have to pay for our suitcase. Boo. Then I found pope outfits. I was thinking maybe just the hat, because he is such a hat guy – but he weighed in and thought he could really do justice to the pink, until he put it on and burst into flames. So, safety first, no pope outfit. So, one time the pope was traveling and his plane had to land short of his destination. They arranged for a driver and limo to meet him. You may not know this about Pope Francis, but he is a bit of a car/motorcycle guy. When he saw the limo, it was a brand new something or other that was top of the line (obviously) and had some kind of great or powerful or whatever engine (I forget because I am not a car/engine person). He asked the chauffeur if he could drive it, and the guy was boggled but instantly said yes. He asked where he should go, and the pope said in back would be fine. They set off and the pope had a bit of a heavy foot. A motorcycle cop pulled him over. When he approached the car and the pope rolled the window down, he stammered that the pope should wait, and he ran back to his motorcycle. He called the station and asked for the captain. “Sir, I have a situation that is way beyond my pay grade.” The captain said he would handle it. “No, sir, it’s way over yours as well.” The district commissioner was nearby, and he said he could send him. “No, way over him, too.” Are you expecting me to call the governor? “No, it’s over him, too” I’m not calling the president, if that’s what you’re saying. “No, it’s over him, too!” What on earth are you talking about? Who is in this car? “I don’t know sir, but the Pope is driving him!”

Anyway, Keith got us tickets on the fast train to Rome (no stops and reserved seats with luggage storage) as a considerable upgrade from our standing trip out to the ship. We said goodbye to the boat life – I wouldn’t have minded staying another ten days – and thoroughly enjoyed our ride. We love riding on trains! There was a great shop in the train terminal, and we took turns going in because luggage in a tiny store is a drag. I bought us each a present.

We took the subway (just like people who know what they are doing – but different, because we were just pretending to know what we are doing) and walked a few blocks to our hotel. It is again a little place on the second floor of a giant old building. Our room is very nice and has a great balcony. It was a surprise to find it behind the curtain. I fell sound asleep while Keith researched where to go for dinner and how to get here and there. Then he fell asleep, too.

We went to La Soffitta for dinner. I had carbonara – recommended from the online – and Keith had a provola affumicata, pancetta, and pecorino romano pizza. Both were delicious. The ham/bacon/prosciutto in mine was incredible. We helped each other and finished it all. We were stuffed. Our waiter came by and asked if we wanted cake for dessert. I assumed no, because aforementioned stuffed. Keith leaned in and said, “What kind of cake are we talking?” So many kinds! Keith looked a bit lost in the Italian, so I suggested profiteroles, because they are my favorite. They arrived looking different than I expected, but they were MAGNIFICENT. I asked Keith if he could describe a more perfect dessert, and he could not. I suggested we order another, because it was so perfect – chocolately and chewy and creamy but not too sweet and not too dark. Our waiter came back and asked, “Perfetto?” and I agreed. I said it was so perfect, we needed to do it again, could we have another. One look, one smile, and he put his hands together like the front of a ship or rocket and made zooming sounds away. In the few moments until his return, I thought I might be getting too full. NO WORRIES! I gobbled (truly going as slowly as I could, to savor the tastes) my half down. We were glowing with the fun – it was no more than if we had each had dessert but felt so decadent (in addition to delicious). A few seconds later, our waiter and another appeared tableside with the pan of profiterol and a bowl of whipped cream! They were very, very funny and we all laughed. Travel is ALL about the people!

We followed the phone’s walking directions to the Vatican, so we knew where we are going tomorrow morning early. We crossed the street with sidewalk construction (you just walk on the stripes and assume the cars are going to stop. Phew. That is really a thing.) then down the block with more sidewalk construction and acoss the street, then across the corner, then in the street beause of sidewalk construction, then a jog to the side, then back, then across, then across the BIG street just past a corner, then we walked up the hill. It didn’t take too long, and we felt good about having our plan for tomorrow.

Then we walked home in about 5 minutes without crossing any streets.

DO BETTER phone.

Keith suggested we walked past our hotel and on to St. Peter’s square. When we were first here, our tour guide proudly showed us the area in front of the basilica and asked us all if we recognized it. Everyone, except us, gleefully said yes. We said yes, hoping there would not be a further quiz. She said, Yes! This is where the pope does mass on Easter and all the other pope times.” Oh. I don’t know about the pope. I will tell you a little secret – the reason the I know the pope is Catholic is that when I was young, I heard adults use two questions that appeared to never be answered. I only knew the answer to one, but I figured they were both supposed to be answered the same. Is the Pope Catholic? and Does a bear shit in the woods? To this day, that is how I check my knowledge of the pope. Anyway, it is just up the street and we went to look. It is big, and lovely.

He said he was going to take my picture. I was happy, but I got distracted thinking about my neck and forgot I was being in a picture. Just a behind the scenes glance.

Lots of people were lining up to go inside. After a bit, I commented that people didn’t seem to have tickets. I was surprised. We got in line, which wasn’t very long. And it was a cool and beautiful evening, not a HOT afternoon like the July we were here before. We were inside in 12 minutes. I was excited to see Michaelangelo’s Piete. I was not familiar last time prior to seeing it, but it really took me. (Not as much as the Sistine Chapel, but still.) It was quite crowded when we were here before, so we didn’t get too long to stand and look. Not enough time. There were few people tonight. I zoomed over and stood. I remembered it. It did not thrill me this time. I tried to be thrilled. I stared hard. I glanced. I was casual. I was focused. I was so surprised it was just … there. Surprised and disappointed. I guess it was a first-time thing. It’s nice. I don’t really carve myself, so I am always impressed with those that do, but that was about it. I was still standing there when Keith walked up and said, “Too bad it’s a copy. I liked the real one a lot.”

What now?

It was in front of a construction wall (no signage, but I did pardon them their dust), so it made sense that they didn’t just drag the Piete out from its alcove for us to gawk at it. It was a plaster copy that didn’t impress me! We stepped way back and could see the real Mary’s head back in her regular spot. Hopefully, they will be back out for us the next time we are in Rome.

St. Peter’s Basilica is just beyond. I told Keith I couldn’t get it, even though I was standing in it. How high is that ceiling? How long is that center aisle? How big is that transom? He looked at me like he didn’t quite get me, and I said, “Quick! Imagine being attacked by a bear.” I figured if he was getting one thing, he could get two. He gave me that look like I am crazy, but he is okay with it. He did not think about a bear attacking.

Dead guys. There were pews in front of this guy, and they were filled with people. I thought that was very devout of them, until I realized they were mostly on their phones, and it was just a place to sit down.

Can you think of a more beautiful way to cover a hole in your floor? I can’t. Just gorgeous.

We stayed a long time, because we could. There were not many people there and it felt luxurious to just be there. I don’t know how to drink it in more than I did – it is so overwhelming. As we left and walked down the stairs, we saw these guys putting a new guy in the box.

We were looking in stores (so. many. rosaries.) on the way home. There is apparently a hot priest calendar. We saw it several times. I know about hot priest from Fleabag and I know about hot rabbi from Nobody Wants That, but I did not know there was a real hot priest calendar. Of coure, that is an assumption – I did not look further at it. It could be something else.

While walking and shopping, I realized I lost my ring. Keith bought me a ring (and I did not buy him a T-shirt) in Corfu. It was a ring I had designed in my mind and explained several times but had never seen in real life. Keith spotted it in a window and we went in. He asked how much and said we’d take it. I heard €90, which was kinda okay. Not too much. I had it fitted to my right hand, but a bit tight because I had giant swollen vacation hands. It was a wrap around channel set with 6 square rainbow colored stones on each side. I loved it. We got out of the store and I took it from its super cute box and admired it. I asked how much it was, because there was a cash discount. He said €15. What? Wonderful!! I took it out and put it on my pinkie (where I prefer rings to go) and squeezed it a little. Perfect. I have been just loving it. Somehow between dinner and the shops, it fell off and is gone. I really, really, really hope someone who likes it finds it and enjoys it.

My ankle decided to start aching on the walk home and I am treating it with a bubbly beverage left by our hoteliers. We are thinking about doing some confusion.