A lazy morning. I get a couple of wonderful gifts from the children, then we head down for breakfast. The boys wait patiently (once again) in the lobby while I spend at least 30 minutes discussing meal plans with the concierge. These are the last two and it’s so important that they are memorable.
First stop is the Circus Maximus (largest game area of that time), where the great chariot games were held. Not much to look at, but interesting to read the history of how it came to be. A block or so further on, we pay and enter the grounds of the Roman Forum,
How old am I today?
Lavinia’s house, the Romulean huts (but they will always be Romulan to us!),
and Constantine’s arch.
We then walk out of this area, and ahead of us is one of the most famous icons of Rome:
Fascinating to imagine everything that took place here so many years ago (thousands!). Factoid: Everyone attended the games for free, but had assigned sections according to social standing and sex. Men in the good sections had holes drilled into their marble seats, so they wouldn’t have to miss a moment of the action going to the loo.
Next, hope in one of the few cabs of the whole trip and ride to the first recommended restaurant (**FOODIE ALERT**), which turns out to be a winner. No one else speaking English in the place, and the waiter recites the menu to us. First course are baby octopus flash fried in such a way as to have a light crust, but no apparent coating. Need I tell you how good they were?
After this light antipasto, here comes the pasta course (primi piatti). Matty and I order what was said to be a local special – homemade pasta with lots of shaved cheese and black pepper – and they bring it out and toss tableside until creamy:
Michael is served his egg noodles with shrimp and we all dig in:
The boys thought that that would be enough, but I wanted all 4 traditional Italian courses, so next up is the rolled beef, kind of like a tender brisket rolled around spinach and I have no idea what else, with a yummy gravy:
I decided to forgo my usual gelato because so many people in the restaurant had ordered the Tiramisu, so out that came as well, complete with birthday candle:
Do you think I liked it?
Aaah, just the proper way to eat on the birthday. We head out, surprisingly not in too much of a coma, and we take another taxi over to the Vatican. We have not bought tickets to go inside because wanted to avoid stress of having to arrive at a certain time (you have to pick a window), nor fight the crowds. We wander
and discuss the politics of religion (the usual ranting) and then innocently walk up the exit where all the tours are emptying out. On something of a dare, Michael walks up to the guard and explains he has left his camera inside. He is escorted in, then has a full fifteen minutes to check out St. Peter’s basilica, but cannot get into Sistine Chapel, which has been closed for the day. What a stunt! In the meanwhile, Matt and I sit outside and admire the Swiss guards, so elegantly dressed:
Then it’s time to walk up the avenue, jump on the metro, and return to the Hotel Borgnoni to rest and pack up for morning departure. Thought we might not make it out when the wake-up call came at 7:30, but we rallied and hoisted the bottle of champagne that management sent up:
We head to a lovely piazza where we are seated outside, just opposite a beautiful old building. There are musicians playing familiar jazz tunes in the square, the stars are out, and life is just grand.
**FOODIE ALERT**
The boys select the standards (tartare and caprese), but I venture into little fresh ricotta roll-ups (kind of like light blintzes) on a bed of sauteed eggplant:
Then I go totally tourist and get the amatriciana:
Then it’s time for the standard dessert. We start walking down the little street (it’s hard to even call it that when it’s cobblestone and only the width of one car) and see so many people walking past us eating gelato. We figure there must be someplace great further up. We come to one place with the largest selection I’ve seen, but Matt says we need to swim further upstream, because people are still coming up the road. We arrive at a place I’ve seen around, and they have organic products, gluten free, and have verbiage about being “slow food”. No problem:
And, shockingly, Matthew orders raspberry:
It’s late and I do not really feel like taking a taxi all the way over to Trastevere, a hip area on the other side of the Tiber, supposedly filled mostly with people Matt and Michael’s age (although as Matt points out, he can’t hang out and chat with them anyway), so we head back to our hood to a disco/club named Gilda. When we arrive around 11:30, not many people there (and the ones that are seem to enjoy acting like they’re in high school), but by the time we’re dancing out on the floor around 12:30 or so, it’s getting pretty full. I enjoy dancing with Michael
and then Matt joins us. Pretty soon I’m ready to call it a night, and the boys stay behind for about 30 minutes or so. I crawl into bed after an incredible day, ready to board the plane(s) and return to the Rocky Mountains.
Thank you all for watching. Already have ideas for 60!