I woke up late today. Too tired from the day before. My
tiredness/soreness plus my lack of planning made me put Florence on the shelf.
I would spend the day in Rome, but first I needed to get things cleared with my
room. Yesterday, when I returned after Pompeii my key didn’t work. I went down
this morning and got everything figured out, even though it took me several
elevator rides. First to get my passport and then another to have them once
again reset my key.
I had a list of four things I wanted to accomplish today. I headed for the Metro, knowing I needed as
much help getting around as I could get. I went to my furthest stop to make
sure that the Van Goghs were indeed not able to be viewed at the National
Museum of Modern Art. They weren’t. I at least got to see a really cool turtle
fountain. I headed back to the Metro and went one stop to the Spanish Steps to
see the Keats-Shelley House. I hadn’t realized it was here until a few Spalding
people had gone. It’s super small but has a beautiful collection of letters and
artifacts from the Romantics. I spent a lot of time reading and just admiring
everything. The house is the house that John Keats stayed at when he came to
Rome trying to save his failing house. It’s the house which he died in. It was
an emotional experience standing in those rooms. They also have the collected
works of both Shelley and Keats you can read so I sat and read ‘Ode to a
Grecian Urn,’ the poem Mr. Lovatt drilled into me every day. I love the
Romantics. Although, I’m not quite sure why Shelley is included in the house
since he didn’t live there.
I had planned on going to the Trevi Fountain next, as it was
the next Metro stop, but I was too hungry from skipping breakfast and I needed
a break. I went back to the hotel and had lunch. Unfortunately, they’re moving
the kitchen so I couldn’t order my French fries, but I got a nice salad.
Ready to again brave the streets of Rome, I went out into
the sweltering heat making it to the Metro station. I debated with myself
whether or not I was actually going to go to Keats’ grave or not. It was pretty
far away and the sun was beating down, but I finally decided I needed to. I was
in the room where he died, why not see where he was buried. The first Metro was
a rough journey. It must have been a very old car. It would slam into each
station, abruptly stop and then immediately open its doors. I made it in one
piece. Crossing the street was quite interesting, as it always is in Rome. I
walked around the pyramid and saw where I needed to be and then ended up
walking the too far. I was able to turn myself around and reassess my map to
find the right street to go down. I am getting better at map reading.
The cemetery was beautiful and not too busy. I used the Rick
Steves guidebook and easily found my way to Shelley’s tomb. Shelley isn’t
actually buried here as he was cremated, but he’s got a slab with his name on it
adorned with fresh flowers. I read him some poetry. Next, I found my way to
Keats’ grave, but not before I literary saw a weeping angel.
There was a large group at Keats’ grave, but after they also
moved on I read Keats some poetry as well. It was a short visit, but I think
well worth it.
Back across the hazardous streets of Rome and into the Metro
station I headed back to where I started off from. My feet by this point were
starting to get very angry with me. I knew I didn’t have a lot of walking left
in me, plus the heat of the sun was not helping. I had to make a decision. A
decision where I choose gelato and a museum over the Trevi Fountain. The National
Museum of Rome, near my hotel and the Metro station chronicles the rise and
fall of the Roman Empire. It came highly recommended in the guidebook and I’m glad
I went. They had some pretty cool stuff. I visited each floor.
I had really wanted to end my day with gelato. I could have
gone to the same place I had gone with Shawna, but Manuel had said this was the
absolute best gelato in town. How could I say no to the best gelato in town?
Plus, Manuel was spot on with his dinner recommendation. I slowly hobbled my
way up and through the streets checking my map several times to make sure I was
going the right way. And then there it was like a shining beacon. It was a
little nerve wrecking ordering something at a non-tourist place, but I got through
it with pointing. It was so worth it. Romana is the best gelato place. It was
smooth and creamy and coated my mouth. The chocolate was good, but the hazelnut
was amazing!
On the way back I did a little shopping and then had to lay
down with my feet up to rest. I watched an Italian game show where the contestants had to fill in the blanks like wheel of fortune but the work was an answer to a question and then if they didn't get it right they were dropped from the trap door they were standing on.
After a good hour resting I got up once more. I
had a little bit more shopping to complete across the street, mainly because I
wasn’t going to walk any more than necessary and plus I really liked the guy
across the street. Then back at the hotel for what I was hoping would be dinner
and wine, but as I arrived Marco informed me that there was no food except for
a Caesar salad. I said no to the salad but yes to the wine. Marco asked what I
wanted the best wine or the beautiful wine and I told him to pick. He wanted
the beautiful wine. It was beautiful. We exchanged a little small talk. He
asked me where I had been because I looked so tired. He talked about the train
crash, “modern trains on very old lines,” and I enjoyed my wine until I
realized the wine on a dinner of gelato was not the best choice. I ate some of
the crackers they had given me to help counter the wine, but I still wasn’t
able to finish the last bit. Marco left, with a scooter helmet. Not what I was
expecting at all. I paid for my drink and went and laid down.
Feeling better from the wine, I packed things up and took a
shower. In the middle of my shower someone knocked on my door, but I couldn’t
answer it and they never came back. It goes along with the strange 6am phone call
to the room a few days ago. One more night before I was headed home.
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