Imagine going to (arguably) the most picturesque city in the world—
You dork. You should know you must put it IN your bag.
By now you know I have no pics of
By now you know my wallet was being picked even as the bunkie was warning me. Fortunately the thief was a compassionate one, and simply threw my wallet onto the train floor after he plied his stealthy trade. He even left me two ten Euro bills. He also left my debit card, surely hoping that I—his low hanging fruit—would suck up to the ATM again.
But visit the
The long ride from the airport into
And then came a huge thrill. Just as our van was approaching our hotel we rounded a corner and there, close as the wingspan of the jet we brought in, was the Colleseum, rounded, columned and tall, rising toward the sky, more magnificent that any modern day sports arena because you knew it was two thousand years old. Riding around it to the hotel several of the crew remarked as to how you could almost hear the shouts of the ancient crowds inside there. Absolutely awesome.
The modern structures were eye-pleasing as well. The apartment buildings were finished in stucco and painted with subtle earth tomes and pastels of off-yellow, pale pink, ocher, burnt orange, and dozens of colors I can't name, yet none were gaudy. They all blended with the city and its greenery, and at the street level many of them hosted sidewalk cafes. Romans love to drink their dark, rich coffees and deep red wines at little round tables in the sunshine. We joined in with them that evening and found ourselves sitting beside a table of newly graduated
Don't ever ask me again to describe