Ok, I know that I have not updated in quite a while, and there may be no one to read this. But today's events
must be documented. I am beginning to think that I have entered into the twilight zone instead of Roma, Italia. This morning, Emily and I said goodbye to Mary and Casey and we put our luggage downstairs for the day. Since Mary and Casey had to get back to Austria, we were switching hotels in order to get a smaller and less expensive room. Sounds simple enough, right? Hmm.
Anyway, we put our stuff in the room and headed off to the Vatican. When we hopped off the metro, we were stopped by a girl from North Carolina who told us that we should sign up for the Vatican tour. “It’s only 40 Euro,” she told us, “and you will get your student refund when you get up to the counter. You get to skip the lines and have an audio guided tour.” Well we thought that sounded like a grand idea—we had heard that it was $50 to get into the Vatican museums and that the line was at least 2 hours long. So we joined the group that was growing outside of a café near the Vatican. The group didn’t leave for another hour. Then we headed to St. Peter’s Basilica, where we sat and listened to our tour guide rattle off useless information for an hour and a half. It was really cool to be out in front of such an incredible place, but we were getting impatient to go inside. FINALLY, after much grouching from the members of our group, we began to stroll toward-guess what-THE LINE.
Yep, we still had to wait in the line just like everyone else. FOR TWO HOURS. People in our group were outraged, and we were beginning to get upset too. When we finally got inside the Vatican, we learned that the tickets cost 15 euro or 8 euro with a student ID. A Canadian dad argued with the tour guide and his wife about the injustice, and more and more people joined in. It became increasingly obvious that we had been scammed. We eventually realized that there was nothing to be done and headed off on our own tour of the Vatican. It was obviously quite incredible to see the Sistine Chapel and the many ancient art and artifacts that the sacred place had to offer, but we were so upset at being cheated by the gypsies that our hearts were no longer in our adventure. As we walked through one of the museum halls, I spotted a Boo Radley’s on Dauphin Street t-shirt. Of course, I had to ask if they were from Mobile! They were students at South, and one of them had grown up in Mobile. They asked us to come to lunch with them, so we headed to a pizzeria and discussed our travels. They had been to many of the same places as us so we were able to compare our respective experiences. It was so lovely and refreshing!
Then Emily and I headed back to our original hotel to gather our belongings and move to our new one. Unfortunately, the people at the hotel were the type who refuse to speak English though they understand it perfectly well. Leaving was extremely frustrating and a HUGE hassle, but we were finally able to hail a cab and move to what we thought was a nearby location. Wrong again. We found ourselves quite outside of Rome in a dingy, littered town. However, our concierge was very helpful and eager to talk to us. We put up our things and headed out to explore our new area. Along the way, we got gelato at a sketchy looking institution that ended up having the best gelato we have had yet. I put my change in my keychain, and I heard the worker say something that sounded like Alabama/Obama. As usual, I smiled and nodded and we walked out.
A few hours later, Emily and I went downstairs to search for some dinner. The concierge asked where we were going and encouraged us to eat at the place across the street. We walked over, but the place was empty save for a couple sitting at one of the many tables outside. The waiters were gathered around and one asked if we would like to sit inside or out. Pretty standard. Except when we said outside, the waiter replied “sorry, outside is full.” His face was stoic as he led us inside. Needless to say, we were bewildered. The waiters stalked about our table throughout the entirety of our dinner, not asking if we wanted anything, just lurking. Across the way, an Italian/Swedish (they introduced themselves as both…) couple called our attention and said that they had been eaves dropping on our conversation and would we like any of their food or wine. “That is what we do in Italy,” they said. Sidenote: We know this to be false. Italians are R-U-D-E. A few minutes later, they interrupted again. “Sorry…isn’t Mister Bean a London cartoon?” We were both wearing London t-shirts and that—I suppose—is why she made that comment, but we were still left completely speechless by their bizarre interruptions. We couldn’t help but giggle at the absurdity of our situation. We left the restaurant (the outside was still empty) to go for a walk. As we walked by the gelato shop from earlier in the day, we heard them call “Alabama!” This time we knew it was no mistake. We went in to talk to them and the guy asked where we were from. I told him Alabama, and he said he had seen it on my license in my keychain. He had never been to the States but he liked the sound of Alabama. Then, with Emily Gurdian and God as my witnesses, the lady started singing “Oh Susannah” in Italian!!!!!!!! Her coworker joined in, and Emily and I had no choice but to sing along as well (in English).
Our minds sufficiently blown for one day, we walked back to our hotel. We stopped to talk to the concierge about our plans to climb Mount Vesuvius and visit Naples tomorrow, but all he had to say was that Naples is dirty and has a lot of cows. I doubt that it can hold a candle to today, but I’m interested to see what Italy will come up with next!
