We didn’t go to Rome on Wednesday because the weather really wasn’t at all good. Thursday, however, promised to be fine and, so, we hopped on a train direct to the Eternal City. Once we arrived and made it out of the Rome Termini station, we bought day tickets for one of the hop on/hop off tour buses and hopped on. We decided to stay on the bus for its entire circuit (about two hours), then have lunch and then hop back on, go to the Colosseum stop and hop off . . . which is exactly what we did.
If I say it was a cloudy day in Rome, it might make one think that the weather was not good. That would be the wrong impression because the weather was magnificent but there were clouds in the sky and they, almost more than the monuments they were floating above, captured my attention as we sat on the top deck of our bus as it twisted and turned its way through the broad, narrow and very narrow streets of Rome.
We’d be going down some wide avenue created, perhaps, by Mussolini to impress whomever needed impressing and then we would turn and at the end of the narrow street there would be a little slice of a view of something magnificent that had been created by some other despot to impress who knows whom . . . with beautiful fluffy clouds to break up the brilliantly blue sky. I took lots of really bad photos; you should be happy that I deleted most of them.
On our walk, we were a bit overwhelmed by the number of tourists. God! We have turned into even bigger bumpkins than we were when we arrived in Italy. I have included a photo of Michael at the Trevi Fountain to make my too-many-people point.
We did enjoy our day to the big city. I wish I had had more opportunities to buy truly horrific souvenirs as there were lots on offer. I hope I won’t be sorry that I didn’t (for the second trip in a row) buy the priest-of-the-month calendar. I looked for pope-soap-on-a-rope but was unsuccessful. I was also on the lookout for a nun in full nun regalia but was unsuccessful in that regard, as well. Since we’ve been in Italy; I’ve been wondering why people are so fearful of some women who are draped in black from head to toe and not of others who are similarly clothed. Of course, people who spent their school years in Catholic classrooms might be just as fearful of a nun in full nun costume as of a woman in a burqa.