J'ai tres faim et puis je mange

Here I am, my second full day in Rome and I cannot stop thinking in French.  It’s funny and frustrating at the same time.  It is the end of another very long day and I’m hungry.  Tonight I am on my own for dinner.  Last night we cooked-if you call heating up prepared pasta sauce and cooking spaghetti cooking; there were ten of us and it was great fun.  If you think its funny to watch me pick a restaurant in a city I know you really should check me out when I can’t read a frickin’ thing on the menu!  Forty-five minutes of wandering the streets near my apartment and I finally found one.  I have no idea if the food is any good but the customers are yummy.

I mentioned that it has been a long day and it has.  We—my fellow students and I—had to be at the Piazza Sonnino at nine a.m.  We then took a bus to Tivoli to see Hadrian’s Villa and the Villa d’Este.  I am still in brain non-functioning mode so the pictures (below) will have to suffice at this point.  Let me say this much—if I had to go home right now it would still be worth the price of admission.  This is an adventure of a lifetime.  On the one hand I am not as nervous as I was in Paris because I have done something like this before; on the other I am scared shitless because I don’t have a clue about the language, I’m traveling and living with people much younger than me (I’m older than the director’s husband, for Christ’s sake!) and I am a decade older than I was, well, a decade ago.  –Did I mention that the customers here were yummy?  Oh, my!  Glad I am sitting by the door. Oh, the foods pretty good too.  ;-)

I am now at Ombre Rosse Caffé and, you guessed it, just ordered in French.  

TO JIM:  If John-Boy were Russian he’d be at the next table.

I am having an espresso and a brownie, neither are sweet; I’m in heaven.  At the moment I am overwhelmed; emotionally, rationally, tactilly (is that a word?).  There are just too many things I want to say at this particular moment and my thoughts are getting clogged up.  Just know this is a beautiful evening that I’ll never be able to describe to you.

Some general observations since I am unable to give detailed descriptions.  I hope soon to reach a point when I can stop making comparisons to Paris but until then—Rome is dirty.  There is garbage on the streets, and dog shit too, graffiti is everywhere, the buildings are caked with soot and grime. Paris has an army of green clad soldiers spraying down the streets every morning; Rome has two old men in orange sweeping the leaves.   Think Disneyland vs. New York City.  That’s not entirely fair—J’adore Paris mais Roma est vibrant in a completely different way.

My waitress just conversed with me in French.  Zut alors!  Let’s all be cosmopolitan.

Earlier today I saw a Toyota Rav4. It was easy to recognize because I used to drive one just like it, same color, same vintage.  I said to Nick, “I didn’t come all the way to Italy to see a Toyota.”  But what I was thinking was, wow…that’s the biggest car I’ve seen all week.  Yeah, little cars abound.  And scooters, and motorcycles.  And they all drive like maniacs.  Stop signs are just suggestions and if we can both fit in this lane who’s gonna mind?  

Little old ladies, well dressed, bent over, smoking.

Old men and little dogs.

Everybody is wrapped up like it's winter in Chicago and yet they’re standing in front of palm trees and orange trees.

`Nuff said. G’night.