Europe adventure. Day 13 & 14 of 34.
Written on the steps outside of the Galleria Degli Uffizi on day 17.
I am realizing that I can only do so much touristy sightseeing before I want to kill the entire human race. I noticed the feeling a little in Amsterdam, a lot in Rome and now it is coming back in Florence. Ugh, just look at them all. The massive amount of them. The tourists angrily standing in line to see beautiful art they won't really appreciate, the scam-artist gelato salesmen, the pushy street vendors, the ugly gypsy ladies with their fake pregnant bellies, the pigeons shitting on everything. I am feeling pretty disgusted right now.
Oh, but this post is about Rome! What an amazing city Rome is. Except no, not really. Pretty awful, actually. It's big, for one. I hate big cities, I'm beginning to realize. And Rome is overrun with people, it's hot, it's FULL of locals trying to rip off every foreigner they see. That's the best profiting job available, I bet. Steal tourists' money. But Jesus Christ are they obvious about it. Loud and demanding and obnoxious. They don't even try to scam you nicely.
With the heat and the lines and the price of it all, it is hard to enjoy even the most gorgeous places. It is pretty impossible to even see them when you are narrowing your eyes to protect them from the sun and to glare at the horribly annoying people all around you. So you can tell me all you want how many nice places there are in the big cities, how much there is to do, but I am pretty sure you are full of shit. There is too much to do to even know where to start and by the time you check one thing off the list you are exhausted and basically broke (especially if you take your eyes off your purse).
So back to my second day in Rome. I woke up late in my own bed to the quiet of Italian countryside. That was a nice morning. I didn't have to get ready to go anywhere until mid-afternoon. But then Giacomo had to go into the city to his parents house and he dropped me of at the nearest train station on the way. Things went downhill from there. I waited forever at the station, was on the train for so long I thought I had taken the wrong one and then spent the rest of my afternoon in Termini. Sound familiar?
I mean, to be fair, there wasn't much afternoon left by that point. But still. Well after eating an evening breakfast of a candy bar (not gluten free, but the stupid vending machine had given me the wrong thing so I ate it anyway) I decided to go to visit a couchsurfer at their work, a seemingly interesting place called Villa Dei Quintili. I got on the metro going toward where they told me to meet them, successfully stealing my ticket back from the crazy gypsy at the ticket machine (her friend tried very hard to distract me by waving her arms and yelling in Italian). But then once I got to the right stop it was in the middle of absolutely nowhere and I couldn't contact the guy, even when I turned off airplane mode or stopped at a restaurant that said they had wifi.
I kept a very positive for the first hour of walking around trying to find the place. I really did. But no one spoke English except the guy in the Burger King and NO ONE knew there even was a Villa Dei Quintili. They all directed me to the street, VIA Dei Quintili. Understandable. There was just more nothing up and down the street.
Trying one more time to get proper directions, I gave up and asked for the way to the nearest metro station. Clearly they would know where that was, since they had to get out of the little outer city nowhere-land once in a while. I got back to Termini Station and sat down in my convenient free wifi spot. It was around 8pm. The whole day was just gone. For some reason, sitting in the train station by myself once again, I just started to cry. That wasn't fun.
Talking to my parents over Facebook and realizing how much I didn't want to try finding another host for that night, I started looking at hostels. I spent about $100/night (I could have found cheaper but didn't try) on my own room in a hostel with great ratings. Room reserved, I jumped on a busy bus with no room to even breathe, let alone sit.
A nice man let me have his seat, but by then I got off when I realized the bus had gone way too far. Then I got back on going the other way and got off too late again, but this time because I couldn't reach the door through the crowd of people. After that I said fuck it and took a taxi. Best decision ever.
Though slightly disorganized when I arrived, the hotel staff were great. They were defiantly fun. One whowas off duty at the time was so drunk on wine that he didn't remember me at all the next day. I was welcomed like I was part of the family and had a giant room all to myself, private bathroom and all. To top it off they had a beautiful outdoor seating area.
After changing into pajamas I went back downstairs and met three guys from the US as they were checking in. We hung out for a few hours that night. They had pizza and beer delivered and I got a kind of boring, bland salad. The closest thing I had had to a meal all day. Yuck.
A plan was made (mostly by me) for all of us to wake up early and go to the Vatican. We got the tickets right then. After that the hostel staff told me that due to some mistake on their part my room had been double booked for the following night. They asked me nicely if I would mind staying in a similar room at a little hotel down the road. Of course all I could think was that it would have been nice to sleep in the same bed twice for once. But I agreed to their request.
And so the next morning I woke up early (regretting it instantly) and packed up all my stuff again. Breakfast was corn flakes, tea and orange juice, which I am starting to think of as hostel food. But unlike The Flying Pig, this place brought everything out to me on a tray, serving me like I was at a restaurant. They better, considering the price I had paid for the room.
The guys had already started eating by the time I sat down. In the end it was five of us going, the three guys from Minnesota and one from England. Their names were James, James, Jakob and Jacob. Seriously. Oh, and one was actually named James Bond.
Remember my rant about touristy sightseeing? Yeah, well, I guess I am glad I can cross the Sistine Chapel off my list. Kind of. It was packed to the brim, people kept hushing everyone rudely, of course you can't take pictures. You can't walk, either. There's no room. But they keep telling you to walk. Keep moving, more people are coming. You have no time look around, really. I definitely enjoyed every other beautiful place and piece of art in Italy more than that Chapel. God is it overrated. Reading about it is fascinating, but not seeing it like that.
After The Vatican (where we lost Jacob with a C) we went to see the Colosseum. The inside, since I had already walked around it more than a couple times. Talk about touristy sightseeing, right? All in one day. But it wasn't too bad. It was ready fun hanging out with those guys, and I feel like I at least saw what I had to see in Rome. Or what everyone sees. The only thing that I regret missing were the Spanish Steps. Oh well.
Later that evening, after showering off the sweat of the day and resting for a while, we all went out to dinner. I had found a few places online that were known for having gluten free food. Though it took us what felt like forever to get there, it was so, so worth it. Gluten free bruschetta with tomatoes, spaghetti carbonara, calzone with zucchini and bacon, tiramisu. And a glass of prosecco to complete the meal. I was seriously in heaven. I spent almost $50, but it was some of the best money I ever spent. I would have taken pictures, but sadly my phone had died.
After dinner the guys all went out to drink too much and I met a CS guy who gave me a very nice tour around the less touristy parts of the city. I got to see a very nice view of Rome from above, The Piazza Navona. I will have to go back and see it during the day, because I heard it is bustling with activity. The enjoyable, interesting kind, with music and art and pretty fountains.
Eli, my tour guide, bought me a couple drinks and was very honest about being interested in sleeping with me. It was a bit refreshing to have someone just say what they were thinking and even more refreshing to have someone accept rejection without it being awkward at all. He wasn't offended, and respected my decision. I loved that. After we continued to just talk, and honestly, which was great. And the he drove me back to the hostel, where I slept feeling like I had spent a very nice last night in Rome.
That is definitely enough writing for now. I should go enjoy more of Florence, maybe get some pizza. My general irritated mood has dissipated a bit.
I am realizing that I can only do so much touristy sightseeing before I want to kill the entire human race. I noticed the feeling a little in Amsterdam, a lot in Rome and now it is coming back in Florence. Ugh, just look at them all. The massive amount of them. The tourists angrily standing in line to see beautiful art they won't really appreciate, the scam-artist gelato salesmen, the pushy street vendors, the ugly gypsy ladies with their fake pregnant bellies, the pigeons shitting on everything. I am feeling pretty disgusted right now.Oh, but this post is about Rome! What an amazing city Rome is. Except no, not really. Pretty awful, actually. It's big, for one. I hate big cities, I'm beginning to realize. And Rome is overrun with people, it's hot, it's FULL of locals trying to rip off every foreigner they see. That's the best profiting job available, I bet. Steal tourists' money. But Jesus Christ are they obvious about it. Loud and demanding and obnoxious. They don't even try to scam you nicely.
With the heat and the lines and the price of it all, it is hard to enjoy even the most gorgeous places. It is pretty impossible to even see them when you are narrowing your eyes to protect them from the sun and to glare at the horribly annoying people all around you. So you can tell me all you want how many nice places there are in the big cities, how much there is to do, but I am pretty sure you are full of shit. There is too much to do to even know where to start and by the time you check one thing off the list you are exhausted and basically broke (especially if you take your eyes off your purse). 
So back to my second day in Rome. I woke up late in my own bed to the quiet of Italian countryside. That was a nice morning. I didn't have to get ready to go anywhere until mid-afternoon. But then Giacomo had to go into the city to his parents house and he dropped me of at the nearest train station on the way. Things went downhill from there. I waited forever at the station, was on the train for so long I thought I had taken the wrong one and then spent the rest of my afternoon in Termini. Sound familiar?
I mean, to be fair, there wasn't much afternoon left by that point. But still. Well after eating an evening breakfast of a candy bar (not gluten free, but the stupid vending machine had given me the wrong thing so I ate it anyway) I decided to go to visit a couchsurfer at their work, a seemingly interesting place called Villa Dei Quintili. I got on the metro going toward where they told me to meet them, successfully stealing my ticket back from the crazy gypsy at the ticket machine (her friend tried very hard to distract me by waving her arms and yelling in Italian). But then once I got to the right stop it was in the middle of absolutely nowhere and I couldn't contact the guy, even when I turned off airplane mode or stopped at a restaurant that said they had wifi.
I kept a very positive for the first hour of walking around trying to find the place. I really did. But no one spoke English except the guy in the Burger King and NO ONE knew there even was a Villa Dei Quintili. They all directed me to the street, VIA Dei Quintili. Understandable. There was just more nothing up and down the street.
Trying one more time to get proper directions, I gave up and asked for the way to the nearest metro station. Clearly they would know where that was, since they had to get out of the little outer city nowhere-land once in a while. I got back to Termini Station and sat down in my convenient free wifi spot. It was around 8pm. The whole day was just gone. For some reason, sitting in the train station by myself once again, I just started to cry. That wasn't fun.
Talking to my parents over Facebook and realizing how much I didn't want to try finding another host for that night, I started looking at hostels. I spent about $100/night (I could have found cheaper but didn't try) on my own room in a hostel with great ratings. Room reserved, I jumped on a busy bus with no room to even breathe, let alone sit.
A nice man let me have his seat, but by then I got off when I realized the bus had gone way too far. Then I got back on going the other way and got off too late again, but this time because I couldn't reach the door through the crowd of people. After that I said fuck it and took a taxi. Best decision ever.
Though slightly disorganized when I arrived, the hotel staff were great. They were defiantly fun. One whowas off duty at the time was so drunk on wine that he didn't remember me at all the next day. I was welcomed like I was part of the family and had a giant room all to myself, private bathroom and all. To top it off they had a beautiful outdoor seating area. 
After changing into pajamas I went back downstairs and met three guys from the US as they were checking in. We hung out for a few hours that night. They had pizza and beer delivered and I got a kind of boring, bland salad. The closest thing I had had to a meal all day. Yuck.
A plan was made (mostly by me) for all of us to wake up early and go to the Vatican. We got the tickets right then. After that the hostel staff told me that due to some mistake on their part my room had been double booked for the following night. They asked me nicely if I would mind staying in a similar room at a little hotel down the road. Of course all I could think was that it would have been nice to sleep in the same bed twice for once. But I agreed to their request.
And so the next morning I woke up early (regretting it instantly) and packed up all my stuff again. Breakfast was corn flakes, tea and orange juice, which I am starting to think of as hostel food. But unlike The Flying Pig, this place brought everything out to me on a tray, serving me like I was at a restaurant. They better, considering the price I had paid for the room. The guys had already started eating by the time I sat down. In the end it was five of us going, the three guys from Minnesota and one from England. Their names were James, James, Jakob and Jacob. Seriously. Oh, and one was actually named James Bond.
Remember my rant about touristy sightseeing? Yeah, well, I guess I am glad I can cross the Sistine Chapel off my list. Kind of. It was packed to the brim, people kept hushing everyone rudely, of course you can't take pictures. You can't walk, either. There's no room. But they keep telling you to walk. Keep moving, more people are coming. You have no time look around, really. I definitely enjoyed every other beautiful place and piece of art in Italy more than that Chapel. God is it overrated. Reading about it is fascinating, but not seeing it like that. 
After The Vatican (where we lost Jacob with a C) we went to see the Colosseum. The inside, since I had already walked around it more than a couple times. Talk about touristy sightseeing, right? All in one day. But it wasn't too bad. It was ready fun hanging out with those guys, and I feel like I at least saw what I had to see in Rome. Or what everyone sees. The only thing that I regret missing were the Spanish Steps. Oh well.
Later that evening, after showering off the sweat of the day and resting for a while, we all went out to dinner. I had found a few places online that were known for having gluten free food. Though it took us what felt like forever to get there, it was so, so worth it. Gluten free bruschetta with tomatoes, spaghetti carbonara, calzone with zucchini and bacon, tiramisu. And a glass of prosecco to complete the meal. I was seriously in heaven. I spent almost $50, but it was some of the best money I ever spent. I would have taken pictures, but sadly my phone had died. After dinner the guys all went out to drink too much and I met a CS guy who gave me a very nice tour around the less touristy parts of the city. I got to see a very nice view of Rome from above, The Piazza Navona. I will have to go back and see it during the day, because I heard it is bustling with activity. The enjoyable, interesting kind, with music and art and pretty fountains.
Eli, my tour guide, bought me a couple drinks and was very honest about being interested in sleeping with me. It was a bit refreshing to have someone just say what they were thinking and even more refreshing to have someone accept rejection without it being awkward at all. He wasn't offended, and respected my decision. I loved that. After we continued to just talk, and honestly, which was great. And the he drove me back to the hostel, where I slept feeling like I had spent a very nice last night in Rome. That is definitely enough writing for now. I should go enjoy more of Florence, maybe get some pizza. My general irritated mood has dissipated a bit.
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