when in rome

from sardinia, we took the ferry over to rome, where we mostly saw a lot of large, old things, like you do when you're in rome (carmen wanted me to clarify that she is not one of the "large, old things" i was referring to in the picture below).

are you not amused?!. From Italy: Rome

of course you can see much better colosseum pictures than we took online.
what i find funny though, is that everyone seems to think (and the wiki even says it) that this colosseum is the biggest ever built. the circus maximus, about a half mile away, could seat 5 times as many. probably not as many lion-deaths though, so not as cool.

Some random large ruin. From Italy: Rome

roman forum. From Italy: Rome

by far the most impressive part of rome, for me, was the roman forum, a great place to wander around and do nothing. we had a strict policy of not becoming educated on what any of the buildings actually were, since we wanted to assume they were all for battling or sacrificing. (as it turns out, we were always right)

semi-triumphant arch. From Italy: Rome

things i've become desensitized to since moving to europe:
-really huge arches
-really huge fountains
-really huge obelisks
-RENAISSANCE ART

Grasseus. From Italy: Rome

look at their horse hats. From Italy: Rome

Miserable at trevi. From Italy: Rome

pretty much no place on earth makes you feel like less of an individual than rome. every corner you turn is another amazing ruin/fountain with hundreds of people crammed around it. we cast our coins for luck and moved on.

really? only 2 subway lines? From Italy: Rome

rome has by far the darkest subways i've ever been in. this picture doesn't really do it justice, since it was a longish exposure time, but really, you could hardly see the area down on the tracks.

Map Room. From Italy: Rome

i had always been told that the vatican is one of those things you "have to see" and we believed that, but i have to say, unless you are EXTREMELY interested in renaissance art (and by that i mean hundreds of different paintings of jesus and mary), it's not really a "must see". the louvre has much better stuff and is not crammed into a tiny space with thousands of people. and if your favorite art is extremely muscular men with tiny genitals (which we learned was "fashionable" at the time), you're in luck. one definite highlight, though, is this Map Room. all walls and the ceiling are covered with paintings that are really rough approximations of maps of various regions. they are painted very cartoony, so the map of sicily, with its volcanoes, looks like a map of middle-earth.

a lot of naked paintings in the sistine chapel. From Italy: Rome

the sistine chapel, despite its heavenly theme, is pretty much my version of hell. it is about as packed as a frat party, everyone shoulder to shoulder and pushing.. and there are a lot of guys working, whose only job is to yell at you not to take pictures. we got this picture and one more before a guy yelled at us to put it away and leave, which we only too willingly did.
(look directly above us to see the creation of adam.. don't worry, it's work safe.. much too blurry to see privates.)

st. pietro's basilica. From Italy: Rome

what really is a must see though is st. peter's basilica. that place is totally nuts. here you can see the holy light that was shining down on us from high.

horse and pantheon. From Italy: Rome

glamour shots at the pantheon. From Italy: Rome

after this long day of walking, we headed back to our campground, on the metro line just north of town. we explored the campground a little (amazingly spacious and wooded considering it's about 5 miles from downtown), which had a good restaurant/bar/market and bathrooms that played nothing but classical music. we had a bottle of wine and went to bed. (actually, who am i kidding? it was probably a box of wine (they come in tiny juice-box sizes!))

at sometime around 3am, i thought carmen was shaking or something, but then realized that the amount of distance we were swaying was more than our sleeping pads. i didn't want to sound like an idiot, so i just said "umm.. you felt that, right?" "yeah, that was an earthquake, wasn't it?" we knew for sure when it got really loud out with dogs barking, birds chirping, and a car alarm. we assumed it was a tiny earthquake and had no idea it was serious until we happened to look at a paper a couple days later.

Catch a Ferry by its Tow: Part 2

So, yes. There we are, left behind to watch our ferry sail off for Sicily. Our rental car waits to be picked up the next day in Palermo, and the next ferry for Sicily goes to Tripani two days from now.

We are feeling pretty stupid right now too. We must have looked at the clock a zillion times that day, patiently waiting for 1730. Strolling around town laying in the sun and having a nice little read at the park until 630. We are dumb.

There's nothing for it but to find a place to stay and get to an internet cafe. We cancel the car reservation and look up a few B&Bs. Then we check flights. There are so many cheap flights we think maybe we can find something, but there is nothing. We double check the ferry schedule, but the troll and the ticket lady told the truth. Nothing for Sicily for two days. The prospect of being stuck in the city of our defeat for two more days is too depressing. We decide instead to strike a course for the mainland. There's a ferry leaving at 7:00 the next evening.

A new plan laid, we head out into the dark to find a bed for the night. That of course turns out to take about 2 hours longer than expected. Bed and breakfasts in Cagliari are pretty spread out, and basically you are ringing on someone's doorbell asking for a place to stay. At 9pm, it kinda gets too late for surprise drop ins. Finally, tho we find a great deal at La Perla Hotel for 55 euro.

We're both dying by this time, it's so muggy out and those packs were so so heavy. Even Mike is half dead. Luckily, the woman speaks Spanish and getting settled was that much easier. We spent the rest of that night drinking off the wine we had bought for the ferry and smoking the last of my clove supply from Sophie.

Smoking in the boy's room. From Italy: Cagliari

The next morning we're a little rough from the wake we held for our loss of Sicily. But, the hotel lady agrees to hold our bags while we wait for the our departure time, so we have a day of freedom to roam Cagliari a bit more. It's really not a bad place to be stuck. Not so big that you're getting run over all the time, and not so small that you're done in 2 hours.

There's wee Mike, way in the bottom left. This tower is an old jail. From Italy: Cagliari

Lording over Cagliari, far from the troll. From Italy: Cagliari

Right to Left: Smart Car, Delivery truck, regular Italian car. From Italy: Cagliari

That is pretty much it. We wait til the appropriate time (there is no way either of us will screw up on a 24 hour clock again ever) and slink back to the gates. I say slink, because we both feel really stupid, both for missing the boat and for letting the troll see us so panicked. I wave our brand new ferry tickets sheepishly at him and he actually cracks a smile and laughs at little bit. I am pretty sure he was still laughing at us, but whatever. We were on the boat and off the island.

Looks like we made it! From Italy: Cagliari

Goodbye Sardenia. From Italy: Cagliari

Where did I put my wingtips and black tie? From Italy: Cagliari

That night, we slept with our camp mats and sleeping bags on the ferry floor. We only woke up once and it must have been storming out because the ferry was humping up and down 10 times more than the earthquake in Rome. And that boat was a really big boat. I wanted to go to the deck to have a look, but I was too tired and too comfortable. The rocking of the boat just made me sleepier... and the next morning, at about 9am, we were at the mainland.

From Italy: Cagliari

See the rest of our Cagliari and ferry photos here.

Italy: Cagliari

Intermission

Sorry I have not posted Part 2 of Catching a Ferry as of yet, as promised. We have spent the last 3 days at the Jules Vern Film Festival, and last night we had a party to celebrate Mike's Paris beer brewing debut. It was a big hit... a real tasty brew, and at 9% alcohol, a real kick in the pants too.

Today at the film festival, we saw a pretty lame episode of Battlestar Galactica, but what was cool was that three of the series' stars were there for an interview... anyone familiar with the series knows Lee, Madame President and Gaius Baltar! Pretty neat, real live Hollywood actors. Madame President is played by the same Stands with a Fist from Dances with Wolves.

Wow! Real live Stars? See the rest of the pictures at my Battlestar album.

After that, we took a break until the premiere of the new Star Trek movie... I don't know if it's premiered for real in Austin, tho I did just read they screened it in secret at the Paramount. Kathy, where you there? Anyways, it was really really good... pretty much non stop action. Awesome special effects, and the 'young' Starship Enterprise cast were all amazing. Go see it when it comes out. Totally worth it.

That said, I'll get back to what we did after we missed our ferry tomorrow. I've got a nice dooze of a headache going, and I'm pretty sure it's less from Mike's home brew and more from an overdose of stinky French perfume. Like a french you know what at a movie theater. Damn.

Catch a Ferry by its Tow: Part 1

Our third day on Sardenia we moved on to a decent sized port town on the southern tip of the island called Cagliari. We had our ferry to Sicily booked for 700 that evening. We made sure to arrive early because only one ferry a week sailed for our particular destination. We were pretty stoked because the next morning we would be arriving in Palermo where we had a car reserved for the next three days. Mike is not a planner, but this time he had outdone himself. He had it all mapped out: our camp ground, side trips, Mt. Etna! Having wheels was going to make it a whole lot easier to see a whole lotta stuff. We got to the train station around noonish and headed straight for the docks.

Our ferry for Sicily awaits. From Italy: Cagliari

Without too much trouble, we ferreted out the ferry gateway and presented our reservation papers to the gateman there. This guy looked like Snake's heavier boned more leathery older brother. I mean, he put the ruff in gruff. He looked us both over and growled out some of the most un-singy-songy Italian I've heard heretofore.

He glanced at our papers, then shook his head and pointed back out towards the street. Feeling like we were being turned away with absolutely no confirmation of our passage, we pointed more clearly at the date and time of our reservation, and produced passports to show our names matched the reservation. After a few growls and disapproving head shakes, he scribbled on our paper: 17:30. Then pointed at us, then to the street, then to the ferry. Pretty simple. Go away. Come back at 17:30. Then I let you get on big boat.

Happy to have been confirmed, happy to be so early with plenty of time to spare and happy to be out of his den and no longer a source of his irritation, we shouldered our giant packs and set out to see what we could see until sailing time.

Way up a high Cagliari hill. From Italy: Cagliari

Before the ascent. From Italy: Cagliari

From Italy: Cagliari

After a while, those packs got pretty heavy, so I said, "No more!" We headed for the nearest open mini market to load up on supplies (it was an overnight ferry) and then wandered down to the park to kill the remaining time.

No more!. From Italy: Cagliari

(A quick word, dear readers. The next section is kinda long with no pictures, but the story is worth reading if you have the time and/or skill).

Neither of us were in a big hurry to approach Snake the Ferry Troll even a minute before 1730. We had chosen a park bench based on ferry vision. That is, we could see the boat, therefore ensuring it would not leave without us. At around 6:15 or so I looked up and remarked, "I see people on the ferry. Maybe we should go soon."

Now, if you can see the growing problem here, maybe you already have an idea at what happens next. If not, follow along. It gets pretty good. It was shaping into a beautiful evening, perfect for sailing. The sky had cleared, the sun was sinking over the water to the west, and a big puffy pile of clouds sat just behind the city, just waiting to soak up the sunset. At 6:30, Mike and I put away our books, hefted the bags, and trundled back down to the dock to beg access of the troll. We were not prepared for the reception we received.

As soon as we approached, out storms the troll, glaring and gesticulating angrily at us and at the ferry. I still don't speak Italian, but rebuke sounds the same in any language. Needless to say, we are totally confused and a little bit pissed at being treated this way. We just can't seem to NOT piss this guy off. We pull out our reservation paper, geared up and ready to launch our protest in the King's language. Snake's brother looks down and jams his thick leathery finger onto the numbers written there. BAM. 1730 = 530 dillholes!! It's now almost a quarter to 700.

Let me backtrack a little here. First, Mike knew full well that the boat was scheduled to sail at 7:00 and that check-in time was 2 hours prior. Second, earlier that day when we showed the troll our reservation paper printed from the interweb, I knew full well it was not really a valid ticket. Any Tom Dick could print a reservation screen and put any old Harry name in that he wanted to. Since the troll hadn't explicitly protested, I didn't say anything to Mike and the thought immediately left my mind. And BOTH of us knew full well that 1730 means 530. And we had sat there on that bench, cool as cucumbers, until practically sail time.

Well, our ire immediately dissolved to panic. We waved our little internet paper even more frantically, but still the troll shook his head at us. Extreme states of confusion and despondency must bring out the best in Europeans, because somehow, Snake's brother started growling out English. "It's not a valid ticket!" And he pointed again at the street. Only this time, there was no troll den to block our view of the street. And straight across, guess what. There was... the ticket office.

There was no time to lose... we turned from Snake and rushed across the street where, of course, the ticket office had just shut its doors literally 5 minutes ago. We were desperate and began pounding immediately on the glass. A woman came, and to make a long story a bit shorter, pretty much just shook her head and said sorry, we are closed, come back tomorrow. No refunds either. You were late. Only one ferry a week to Palermo? Oh well. You go somewhere else iffa you can't wait another week. Stupid Americans. Good bye. And she shut the door.

By this time, we are totally destroyed. We run back across the street to beg mercy of Snake's brother, hoping somehow, he will let us through the gates. Our ferry sits, several meters beyond, still with her loading dock down, still with passengers and cargo going aboard. It's probably 715 by now. But there is no dice. No sympathy. No favors, no customer service to speak of really. Without a valid ticket, the troll maintains that we shall not pass. Mike even tries to bribe him. A hundred euro? The troll's eyes flicker for an instant, but he quickly recovers himself. Still the answer is no.

We both consider rushing the old man and making a run for it. We don't say it, but I know we're both thinking it. The ferry is still in dock, she hasn't closed up her cargo bay for sailing yet. But there is no way. Not with those giant bags on our backs. Not with the toughest old man in Sardenia guarding the gates. And anyway, Italian jail probably sucks really bad.

Dejected and lower than when I went to the wrong Athens, we have no choice but to watch our ferry finally raise its cargo door and slowly sail away into a beautiful beautiful sunset. The city of Cagliari is awash in gorgeous red light, the ocean sparkles, the sky glows and the clouds are like shells. The troll still stands like a sentinel, watching us- just in case those backpacks float.

If you are still with me, I will continue this post tomorrow, as it's pretty wordy and most of you probably have important things to do this Friday afternoon and this weekend. I leave you with a sneak peek of later that night.

Drowning our sorrows after our ships sets sail for Sicily without us. From Italy: Cagliari

We are back from Italy

It is weird to go on a 3 week trip to Italy, and then come home at the end of it and feel like you didn't travel very far. Paris is just a couple hours flight, and at the end of it you are expecting to feel like you flew home to Austin.

But maybe that is just me.

Italy was beautiful and the weather was perfect... except for on the island, where it rained a lot. Days 2 and 3 (April 1 and 2) we went to this little teensy beach town where we attempted to camp.

From Italy: Sardenia

However, it poured rain the first night and we spend a good portion of the night in the bathroom, vent drying our sleeping bag. Then we crept around the campground in the dark checking out the grounds huts for unlocked doors. Luckily we found just one, and spent the next two nights away from the wet in those little brown huts.


Campgrounds in Italy go on a star system like hotels, and they are pretty awesome, like resorts almost. Swimming pools, bungalows, market store, restaraunt, hot showers and beach or lake access if they've got it.

From Italy: Sardenia

From Italy: Sardenia

We did get some sun in the afternoons tho, so all was not lost. And since it was low season, we pretty much had the town to ourselves.

From Italy: Sardenia

and the snails.... they loved the rain.

From Italy: Sardenia

See the whole album for our first two nights in Sardenia here.

Italy: Sardenia