Roman Holiday (couldn't resist)

La Fontana del Trevi










Priests eating gelato by fountain, just like real people










Cioccolato Caldo










The Spanish Steps









Though not emailing, I was still diarying, so there will follow a slightly overwhelming volume of posts before I get back into "real time"....

Monday, April 10thish

Someone actually said “ciao, bella,” to me today. Now I know I’m in Rome. I was paying for a croissant, and the cashier and I fumbled the coin between us and dropped it. An old man started giving him a smiling lecture in very fast Italian. I didn’t understand too much, but it seemed to be along the lines of “that’s not how you treat a beautiful lady,” after which he waved me goodbye with “ciao, bella.” Rome is a good place to be a woman today. Everyone is a beautiful lady here.

I’m actually feeling anything but bella today. I took the night train from Vienna to Rome, and I can’t check into my hostel until three. So I’m unshowered, tired, wearing the same clothes as yesterday, and lugging around my carry-on backpack with laptop, which has reached the “there HAS to be lead in here somewhere,” stage. I’m looking forward to the convent tomorrow, where I'll be able to leave my old work clothes and sleeping bag and be a little more light and compact.

By a lucky chance, I picked up a Times in Heathrow, and it mentioned a European Art Exhibition that’s being held at the Quirinale Palace here in Rome. It’s celebrating 50 years of the EU, and all the countries have submitted one piece of art that they feel best represented their country. The UK sent a beautiful Turner (word has it the Queen insisted on Turner), the Dutch sent a Mondrian (which is almost scandalous, as everyone was expecting Vermeer or something), the Italians a Titian, and the French Rodin’s Thinker. All in one glorious room.

Now I’m sitting writing this at the Spanish steps, enjoying the scent of some pink flower, watching priests eat gelato as the world passes. It’s nice having been to Rome before – I don’t feel obligated to go and look at the Coliseum if I don’t feel like it. And right now I don’t feel like it.

I need pizza.