I already wrote a whole draft about how I had 2 vodkas and 1 and a half mental patient pills before boarding so I wouldn’t run screaming down the aisle when the plane took off. Gladly risking a Karen Quinlan result for a little piece of mind.
I followed it up with how great it is to have a travel agent because there was a guy to pick us up and take us to our hotel which incidentally was really nice and pretty cheap and had a view of a much nicer hotel from our window so we had the best of both worlds.
Now imagine this with hysterical jokes and valuable travel tips that you would be reading right now if I had remembered to save the fucker.
I decided not to bring my laptop and write on my ipad so if there are lots of %’s in this it’s not my fault.
When we got here we couldn’t check in because it was so early so we decided to tour the city.
Since we hadn’t slept a wink it is a tribute to the love my sister and I have for each other that as we carefully followed the map the hotel guy had given us into one blind alley after another not one cross word was spoken.
We finally got to the Trevi Fountain which though lovely was mostly adored because it had a wall we could sit down on while admiring it. That is until some guy in a gladiator costume kept ruining it by standing in our line of sight.
Then we limped on to the Piazza Navona which was our original destination where some guy with two parakeets kept offering to take a picture with us for a few ruples or whatever they use for money here.
It turned out that we should have taken him up on it because the next guy who wanted to pose with us had his feet on backwards. Why that merits a photo op, your guess is as good as mine.
Anyway, tomorrow, Orvieto in a car paid for by our little niece and nephew Stephanie and Terry.
Until then, Pasta Fagioli and good night.