The Third Day's the Charm

It is my third day in Rome and already I dislike tourists notwithstanding that I am one.  And it's not just that they are all wanting to see the things that I want to see, and get in my way, and create crowds.  It's the mentality that they are the only ones who matter. The idea that Rome was built entirely for their pleasure and they deserve to stand in the middle of the footpath to take pictures, or talk loudly in their own language, or say stupid things because they haven't taken the trouble to become informed ahead of time.  And really I say "they" but I should be saying "we."

But even more than the tourist I dislike the hawkers who pander to them and prey upon them.  It's bad enough to have to fight hordes of people all wanting to go in different directions but be in the same place at the same time, but the incessant requests for me to buy cheap, tacky items as a memento or gift, or to pay to have my picture taken or to buy overpriced inferior food because it's the only stuff available really does put me over the top.

Today Charis and I were going to walk through the Forum and Paletine hill and the Colosseum.  We walked all around it and took pictures from the outside  but chose not to buy the tickets and venture inside for all the reasons I already stated.  So, here's what you can see if you choose the path less traveled.

Pigeons scavenging for food at your feet.  We sat in a shady spot overlooking the Colosseum and the pigeons walked around within feet of us.

A friendly waiter. As we left the area of the Colosseum we walked past the sidewalk cafe we had eaten in last night.  Our waiter greeted us warmly with a "Buon giorno."
"Buon giorno." I replied.  He put out his hand.  I shook it. He raised mine to his lips and kissed it and then greeted me with a kiss on each cheek. It was a very warm and respectful greeting and made me feel like I had  made a friend.

A Gelateria and sandwich bar. After greeting the man behind the counter with a "Buon giorno" I asked if he spoke English.  "Yes" he replied. We then proceeded to order and to chat a little.  He asked if we were from California.  "No" we said "We're from Minnesota."
"Where is that"
"It's near Canada"
"That's odd" he says "you have a South American accent"
"Haha" we laughed. "It's likely because we've studied Spanish. "  Then we sat outside and ate our lemon gelato first before eating the provolone and dried beef sanwich with some delicious, peppery, fresh herb of which we don't know the name.

The Vespa Diva.  At the front of a long row of traffic waiting at a stop light was a woman  on a Vespa. This is not so unusual. But aside from the helmet on her head she could have walked the runway. She wore a long flowing silky jacket in a gorgeous shade of blue with matching slacks and silver jewelry. On her feet were stylish 4" wedge heeled sandals.  The light turned green and she was off in a flash, her flowing garment billowing behind her. 

We walked to the Museo Nationale and saw the most ancient statuary dating from 500 BC and many fine mosaics and frescoes rescued from the Farnese Pallace. Then we walked back to "our" neighborhood.  It's amazing what just 3 days will do.  Instead of it all being strange and new, now we recognize streets and places we've been.  We feel like we belong on this street -- the Via Baccina. And the adjoining streets are our neighborhood.