Bookchick's Roman Birthday With Other Chicks Attending

Friday morning I rose and made my way down to the breakfast room. When I stopped at the front desk, Victoria and Alberto almost didn’t recognize me. We chatted for a few moments, and I left to go run said errands. I needed to purchase a birthday present for N, and thought of a funky little jewelry shop down the street, J. Alcozer. I myself have some earrings and a beautiful pin from this store, and thought N might especially appreciate something from Rome. Luckily I found something in the window immediately that I felt would suit her perfectly—a small pin shaped like a little basket of flowers—and went in and made that purchase. I set of for American Express to see if I could score some train tickets to Florence. The plan was that we were going to have a nice dinner on Monday evening to celebrate N’s birthday, then Tuesday morning go to the station and catch a train for Florence. I’d already procured tickets for an English-speaking guide for the Accademia, but getting train tix while still in the States proved impossible. Luckily Amex didn’t let me down, and I left with 4 Eurostar tickets prior to heading out to Vatican City. At Vatican City, I had a couple of missions: I wanted to shop at Domus Artes, and also wanted to purchase some Vatican City stamps. Missions accomplished, I headed back to the San Carlo with my purchases. By now I think the staff was on the verge of throwing a ticker-tape parade in my honor. Dante, the chief porter and lifeblood of the place, and one of the hardest workers anywhere on our fair blue planet, introduced me to young Christopher, a young man he was training. The beautiful Italian brunette who was working the front desk the day of my arrival, Elena, was told by Alberto that I was the most important American guest they have ever had! Frankly I wondered if my ego would be able to withstand the hyper-inflation. Friday evening I found my way to an internet café, and this was no small feat. Easy Everything, for years a mainstay for Americans especially, at Piazza Barberini, is now gone, and the construction of a bank had replaced it. I remembered a place near the Piazza dei Cinque Luna, and it, too is now closed. I headed further down the street, however, and located a place near St. Andrea Viale. By now I was very convinced I needed a raincoat; the skies grew iffy and an occasional drop had fallen, and despite the fact I did pack sweaters and a dressy jacket or two, I knew I needed something more substantial. I looked online for the location of a Marina Rinaldi store. Walking back to the hotel, I looked for it, but didn’t find it where the internet said it would be—it was actually a block or two over, though. (This crystallizes for me the general way things work in Italy. The expression “it’s just a suggestion or a general idea” works well here.) I located the store, but it had already closed for the evening, so I returned on Saturday and found a great khaki trench coat with a perfect fit, and made the purchase.
On Saturday I also set about procuring some foods for the later arrivals. C had never been to Italy before—and she didn’t speak the language and was traveling all the way from the west coast of the USA, so I felt most inclined to baby her as much as possible. All of us were in rooms with fridges, and they were well-stocked with water by the hotel, but still there’s always enough room for other goods. She mentioned she’d bring an infuser for tea, so I purchased some tea for her, some chocolate, some yogurt, and some orange juice in a little market at the intersection of via Mario del Fiore and via Vittoria. Saturday afternoon when I was stashing this stuff in the fridge, my phone rang, and it was my buddy Giancarlo. He wanted to take me to dinner and asked if I’d meet him around 8 in Piazza di Spagna. He knew from my voice that I am much changed since becoming a cancer patient, and I’d told him my long blonde hair, which he’d always rhapsodized over had been replaced by a short mass of blonde corkscrew curls over which I have no control. So I was a bit anxious. I got there a little early, and knowing he’d be around the fountain when he arrived, I stood up on one of the lower steps, so I could see him. (Yes, I am somewhat short.) When I located him, he was looking at the direction of the street my hotel was on, so I came up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder. When he turned around and saw me, he hugged me so hard I feared he’d break a rib. We went to a restaurant called In Di Fronte A.. on via della Croce for pizza and to catch up a bit. I invited him to N’s birthday dinner on Monday.

On Sunday I awoke and went out onto via del Corso to purchase postcards. Then I headed to a little spot near the Spanish Steps, Barcaccia; there’s table service upstairs and when the windows are open—and they were—the gorgeous sight of the flowers on the Spanish Steps is available to savor. I had a coffee, and wrote out postcards to my doctors, some friends, and the people in my office, then headed back to the hotel. The San Carlo had arranged for Gianni, a driver with whom they contract, to meet me and take me out to the airport to pick up C. Gianni had a van, as well as a sticker on the windshield allowing him to park near certain sites without penalty of any kind. An affable fellow, we began to talk, and I asked him in Italian if he were really Italian. He asked me why I doubted it, and I told him his English, when he spoke it, was almost completely without detectable accent. He laughed and explained he’d lived in Ireland for 5 years. I was a bit nervous about seeing C for the same reasons I’d been a tad nervous about seeing Giancarlo again—how would she react? Also, would she like Italy? Gianni directed me to the area where passengers from C’s flight would be, and I waited eagerly. C had also changed a tad, had let me know she’d had her hair cut, so I hoped we’d recognize one another. My fears, of course, were for naught, and we ran toward each other to hug and tell each other our hair looked great, and C needed to use the ladies room, so we headed there straightaway before heading out to locate Gianni. In the van on the way to the San Carlo, C was so filled with energy, despite her long flights, and I pointed out the umbrella pines to her that up until that point, she’d only ever seen in photos and paintings. Like me, she had her “breathless” moment near the walls of the Vatican at the sight of the flowering trees. After checking C in at the San Carlo—she was just 2 doors down from my room—we headed out for a little walk. I showed her the church known in the neighborhood as San Carlo al Corso, and showed her the little store where I’d purchased the juice, tea, and yogurt for her; despite the fact it was closed, she wanted to know how to get there. In the late afternoon we went to Café Leonardo, sat outside, C ogled the waiter, and almost fell asleep in her soup. I had a sandwich, and afterwards almost fell out of the ladies room—gotta watch that first step, it’s a doozy—and we headed back to the hotel to turn in for an early evening.

And it's about time!!!
tell us more.

BC - I have an April bday! I didn't know I was supposed to celebrate it in Rome. Great idea! Actually, I just got back last week and noticed the disappearnce of internet cafes also (found one about two blocks from the forum just off Cavour on via Serpenti). There were still lots of them in Florence.

I wandered through San Carlo al Corso as I was trying to locate their convent accommodations (scouting for a future trip), but couldn't locate the entrance (or anyone to ask). It would be a great location though.

Hey, Bookie!

I've heard some stuff about this fabulous trip from C, but it's so great to "see" you tell it because it really means you're doing well!

DH and I are leaving for Italy in 2 weeks, so hurry and get the rest of this posted so I can steal some hints!

Hi ..

My birthday is April 11 too...I love books too and love Italy..love travelling and reading in general

Actually looking at ur birthdate brought back the memories years ago when I was crazy abt astrology

Sounds lovely! Looking forward to the next installment.

Hey, bookchick! I looked and looked for your trip report before I went to Rome in June. Happy to see it now, but happier that you were able to go...and for your birthday, no less. Looking forward to the rest of the report and hope you're doing well.

Go, bookchick!

I am enjoying your report. It sounds like a wonderful trip so far.

When lying close to death in a hospital ICU in 2007, I looked back on my life and counted my blessings and reviewed my few regrets, and prayed that I might someday return to Rome. April 3, 2008 was my someday.

Ha! Take that, death! Score one for Bookie...a chick who knows how to LIVE!

This trip report makes me a very, very happy Fodorite. You go, girl.

I have watched this saga from afar and today I am smiling, too, Bookchick-here's to all the trips made in celebration of the defeat of ill-health!

Bookmarking.
Prayers to the continued good health gods for you.

Hi bookchick

Ever since I read that you would be taking this trip, I have been waiting for the report.

What a wonderful way to celebrate your long road to recovery.

Looking forward to reading more.

Johanna

A very heartwarming, interesting and nicely written report. Also, glad to hear that you are doing well.

Could I beg you for a paragraph or two, though ? A bit easier on my eyes.

Looking forward to more.

M.

Bookchick reigns !
Glad to hear good things from you.

I am so happy you made it through and were able to go back to a place you love so much. You must be very strong.

Sorry, Mathieu! I was working off a computer I rarely use, not my own, and actually did a cut & paste in Word, where I did have paragraph breaks. Bien sur, je vous demande pardon.

Back to Italy…

On Monday morning I met C in the breakfast room, and she recounted to me how before retiring for the evening, she came to my door dressed in her yoga pants and a sweatshirt to bid me goodnight. Knocking on what she thought was my door, she was stunned when a rather attractive man in his 30’s answered the door. She admitted to me that she thought “Wow, Bookie sure works fast!” We had a good laugh, then began to discuss N and her birthday, when lo and behold, N arrived! There was laughing, hugging and kissing, and I introduced N to the staff at the front desk. Turns out the young man C had encountered the night before checked out, so they were putting N in his former room, and she’d be in between C and me. We chatted for a while and finished breakfast and N took a quick ride out to Vatican City with me so I could mail postcards and I gave her my 5 cent tour of San Carlo al Corso. When N is in Rome she usually stays in the Piazza Navona area, so the neighborhood of the Spanish Steps was a real novelty for her.

Soon it was time for me to meet up with Gianni so I could go out to the airport to get J, who’d also had a little layover in Amsterdam. J had already seen me post-cancer diagnosis in January when I made a brief trip to her home in Louisville, and it was then I invited her on the trip. She is a well-traveled lady, had been a military brat who’d lived in a number of places around the world, and is a general delight. Once again Gianni proved not merely an able driver, but kind of a cool guide, and pointed out some places of interest on the way back to the San Carlo. Back at the hotel, we checked J in, and C and N joined us in her room, where J gifted us with some nice things from Louisville—a Kentucky Derby tote bag for each of us, as well as some nice socks that were meant to function as slippers, trimmed in faux leopard skin.

N was filled with energy and decided to go walking. I stayed and spoke with C and J a bit longer, then decided to let them nap before our elegant dinner, and headed out myself to take in some air. While walking, of course, I ran into N, and we headed together to get a gelato and see Piazza Navona. Sitting in Piazza Navona, I said to her that I honestly hadn’t dreamed this trip would be so wonderful, that we’d spend part of her birthday in a place both of us have enjoyed and appreciated so much, eating gelato. It was a “pinch me” moment; but a woman always needs to be careful of "pinch me" moments in Italy!

Big smile here. Just what I needed to read.

Monday night we feted N for her birthday at Giarrosto Fiorentino, a lovely restaurant on via Siciliana off via Veneto. There were other Americans celebrating birthdays there, too. We ordered as starters a great mixed antipasto, and several dishes were delivered to the table for us to sample and share. On one plate there were sausages made from wild boar. N and I decided to be adventurous and sample it. The casing proved to be kind of tough though, and these sausages were served at room temp. Whoosh! When N tried to cut into it, it flew right off the table. We drank Prosecco and laughed and the staff dimmed the lights to deliver the candle-laden cake for N’s birthday.

Back at the San Carlo, we went out onto a roof-top terrace and drank limoncello, a favorite beverage of N, and something I’d stocked up on prior to her arrival. Although we did feel a drop or two of rain, N suddently said “look!” and we turned to see the dome of San Carlo al Corso lit up like a miniature of St. Peter’s. It was a delightful night.

The next morning we set off for Florence by Eurostar. J had an iPod and as the train made its way through the beautiful Italian countryside, she let each of us listen to a recording of Enrico Caruso singing Italian opera. It was like a moment of a postcard or movie in which we were the subjects or co-stars, and it was complete with a soundtrack!

This is just what I needed to read too! Life affirming and excellent!

you make me want to hop on a plane!!

On arriving in Florence we headed to the Pierre Hotel, where I’d booked two rooms for the 4 of us. The desk staff gave us adjoining rooms, and a porter came to unlock the door that connected them. C and I were in one room, N and J shared the other. Each room had two beds and one bathroom. We settled in, and had a brief period of time before we were to head off to the Uffizi; I’d procured a voucher for tickets for the afternoon of our arrival. It was raining and the Uffizi was PACKED. Sardines in cans have had more room, I assure you. Nevertheless we saw things we expected as well as things we weren’t familiar with that caught our eye. J and I were really intrigued by some paintings in which all the subjects, who were well-known saints and the Savior in the Catholic religion, had huge sad, dark eyes. We finished walking about and went to the gift shop, also PACKED. N came across a number of books; I settled for the purchase of a few special postcards, one of which was a color depiction of Caravaggio’s Medusa. (My brother finds the postcard repugnant, and “sick”.)

After leaving the Museum for the fresh although fairly moist air, we found ourselves at an outdoor café. The umbrella’d tables kept the rain off and each chair had been covered with a faux leopard-skin throw to keep the occupant dry. We ordered gelato all around, and it was a thrill to see C and J eating their first Italian gelato.

After that we repaired back to the hotel and decided to lie down on each of our beds for a brief rest. A bit of jet lag had finally caught up with the normally energetic N, and J as well I fear, and C, who’d traveled so far. And of course as the resident quasi-invalid, I always take some opportunities to rest when offered. So there we were, I think C was asleep, I could barely hear N and J talking softly in their rooms, and then they stopped, so I surmised they, too, might be asleep. I couldn’t help but think how civil this all was, how we were like (well in some ways!) cultured ladies from the late 19th century, who were reposing prior to a social evening…..when suddenly we were all startled by the sound of what certainly resembled a ton of glass being emptied into a truck. CRASH! Well, so much for a civil way of life, in which ladies recline restfully in the afternoon..

Your report makes me want to know you and in a way I feel I do. I love reading it and please continue.

I am so happy for you and wish I "knew" a city as well as you do Rome--am trying with Paris but it will be a lifelong quest.

p.s. Don't you just love Marina Rinaldi--I did wonderfully at a sale in their Prague store a few years ago and watch for sale items on Saks' web site.

Hello bookchick! Your trip report is a joy. I was so thrilled to see your thread. And I am still in awe of you my dear. Your friends are obviously wonderful travelling companions, and you deserve nothing but the very best. I am so looking forward to your next installment.

That evening we decided to dine at Il Cavallino, a restaurant in Florence, where, in my student days we scraped together a bit of money to celebrate special occasions. Whenever I am in Florence I try to get there; I am always transported back in time a bit to when I was living in Sesto Fiorentino, commuting in to Florence by bus almost every day.

The waiter we had was a comical guy, jolly and a tad on the rotund side. Now I do speak Italian, and N had studied some Italian because she loves the country so much. She enjoys speaking it, and will usually preface an exchange in a shop or restaurant with a native by saying she doesn’t speak Italian well, but she’d like to transact business in Italian. Everyone is always charmed by this and tells her to go ahead. Well, N had looked over the menu and not seeing it listed on the menu, wanted to order fava beans. (You sickos reading this who are thinking of Hannibal Lecter can leave now.) So when the waiter came over to the table, he described a “seafood fantasy” dinner that N and J decided to share. I stayed out of this altogether because it sounded like enough food to feed a family of 6 easily. N and J inquired about ordering some side dishes of vegetables and then N asked the daring question “Avete fave?” to find out if they had fava beans available. Now the way she phrased it…um…there is a slang term for part of the male anatomy, and she was actually asking the waiter if he..well, you can well guess. The waiter did all he could not to simply explode in laughter, and said to N, “I’m calling Tony over, you ask him”. “Tony” was an older gentleman, also a waiter, and he came to our table as our waiter requested, and N posed the question to him. By now both Tony, our waiter and I were practically in tears and rolling on the floor we were laughing so hard! J was utterly bewildered and N kept asking “What did I say??”!

"Ladies who recline restfully in the afternoon.... before an evening social engagement..."

And why not ? Good for you !
(reminds me a bit of 'A Room With A View', one of my favourite movies.)

Very much enjoying your writing, and the wonderful sense you impart of enjoying friendships and simple pleasures.
And thank you for the paragraphs !

M

The next day we had our reserved time at the Accademia. Getting C out of the Mercato Nuovo, however, took almost a surgical effort. N went in to get her, and then she, too, disappeared. J and I stood outside a bookstore peering into the Mercato to see if we could catch a glimpse of C or N. No luck. Finally, with our reservation time coming close, we went in and extracted the two shoppers, one of whom was bearing a couple of pashminas for her trouble.

Our guide was a lovely, expressive young woman, very funny and bright, but wearing more make-up than I’ve possible had cumulatively on my face in my lifetime. She gave us a wonderful overview of Renaissance art history, made some interesting observations on the Medici family, and answered our questions. (The style of art that J and I thought looked almost out of place the day before was called mannerism.) All in all, it was a most enjoyable morning, and since we’d survived the gift shop the day before, we didn’t have to do it again.

We thought of stopping for a bite of lunch, and near Il Porcellino I recognized Enzo. Enzo is minor personality in Florence, and manages a restaurant. I walked up to him, shook his hand, and told him it was good to see him again. I think he was taken aback and couldn’t place me, but was too shy to say so, so he had a waiter seat us. We ordered and enjoyed lunch and Enzo sent us complimentary Limoncello at the end of the meal. We had a waiter who was young, energetic, and used the phrase “Oh my gosh!” quite a bit, so we must have been a somewhat provocative lunch party for him.

With our time growing short in Florence, we decided to hail a cab and go to Piazza Michaelangelo, so C and J could really see the town. In a happy coincidence, the sun came out just as we arrived up there. J so enjoyed seeing the wall of the city, and said when she thought of Italy, she imagined the more “Tuscany” part of it, just outside the city walls. We drank in the beauty and the splendor that has bewitched visitors century after century. We took a cab back down, as time was of the essence. We had already formally checked out of the hotel, but they kept our bags in their baggage room. C wanted to have another go at the Mercato, and N was game to go with her. J and I unexpectedly found a marvelous gelateria right around the corner from the hotel and decided to indulge; we meandered back to the hotel lobby to finish consuming our treats.

C and N finally joined us and we headed by cab to the train station for the train back to Rome. Our pal CW was to arrive that evening from Germany, so we were looking forward to dinner with her. On the train on the way back, we occupied seats that were 2 by two---two of us facing the other two, with a “table” of sorts between us. I gesture a great deal when I talk, and I was sitting in an “aisle seat”. While in animated conversation, I suddenly noticed a shocked look on N’s face and then she burst out laughing. I asked what was so funny and she told me the conductor was coming down the aisle and I…almost hit him with my hand in what was a very sensitive part of his body! Naturally all 4 of us began to laugh uncontrollably.

So once back in Rome and back at the hotel, J noticed the TV in her room acting oddly. Everything seemed "reversed"; CNN weather, for example, showed the UK as being east of Italy! We thought perhaps J had indulged in too much wine, gelato or limoncello, until she was later able to furnish us with photographic evidence this actually happened! Her son, who is quite techno-savvy explained to her upon her return to the States that there's a little switch on many sets that does a "reversal" of things. Even the ticker at the bottom of her TV screen was running backwards. Anyway, after unpacking and getting ourselves together, we decided we were starving. CW was later getting in than we thought she should be, and we tried phoning her on her cell phone. At last she showed up and we went a block over to via della Croce for pizza. A very handsome waiter was assigned to our table and C simply gazed at him; N engaged him in small talk and he asked her where she was from. She told him he probably never heard of her town in Vermont, but he said "sure, it's not far from Boston", much to her astonishment. CW had made little buttons for everyone to commemorate our GTG, and as she's quite the photographer, she photographed each pizza. We headed back to the San Carlo for more roof-terrace Limoncello imbibing.

Thursday morning we met in the breakfast room and had a leisurely time. We had tickets reserved for the Galleria Borghese for 11 am. We had a delightful time at the Galleria, got together and split up and got together again a number of times. Afterwards we re-grouped at the hotel, then headed over to Pasticeria Angelo on via della Croce for lunch. We had a really delightful time, as we were serenaded by a guitar-playing singer, who sang an Italian song that C was quite familiar with and fond of. At the end of the meal, I asked our wait person if she could bring over a little plate of pastries, and we ordered coffees. When the plate arrived, the pastries, were of course a work of art, so CW photographed them. My cell phone rang and it was Giancarlo. The girls went off to explore a few sights, and I met up with GC, who just wanted to chat for a while and pick my brain to come up with a birthday present for me.

As usual, the evening ended with yet another session of limoncello drinking on the roof terrace. (Do you see a pattern here?)

Friday was my birthday, and it was a day of decidedly mixed weather. There was some rain, which I thought appropriate, as it rained on the day I was born. J, CW, and I headed out to Vatican City. As a German, CW feels quite an affinity for Pope Benedict XVI, despite the fact she isn't Catholic. J wanted to check things out at Domus Artes to see if she could locate some presents. J and CW both took quite a few photos, and J has some of CW and me in which I have the most animated expressions on my face. Well, it's hard to suppress your emotions when you're in your favorite place on earth. At Domus Artes, there's a very helpful young lady named Elena. She remembered me, and I told her the story of my illness; I'd not been in Rome at all in 2007. She told me she'd also experienced changes since we last met, and she'd given birth to a healthy baby boy in August of 2007. As a present (!) she gave me a medallion of St. Peregrine, the patron saint of cancer patients. N & C had gone jewelry shopping on via Veneto to a spot where N has shopped before.

We met up back at the hotel. Gianni was going to drive us around the whole afternoon to give C & J a much better "flavor" of the sites of Rome. We went to the Church of Santa Maria Maggiore, then headed over to the Forum, where the sun came out. We also went to San Giovanni, "the church" of the Bishop of Rome (the Pope) and Santa Croce. I'd not been to Santa Croce before and was most moved. Gianni also took us to the Trevi, where C and J (and I!) threw in a coin. The sun made various appearances, alternating with some clouds and a few sprinkles here and there. Gianni was able to park up close to the churches we went to, and this made it really great and convenient. He also got out of the van, came in and did little commentaries for us on various features of each venue.

We returned to the hotel to get ourselves gussied up for dinner. I'd packed most of my clothes around the color navy blue, and colors that went with it. (You can take the girl out of the Catholic school, but it's impossible to take the Catholic school out of the girl!) I had packed a new v-neck sheath dress with matching jacket, and to my amazement when I put it on...um..there was cleavage! I asked C if I should wear it, and she responded "If you've got it, flaunt it!", so I did. We had to take 2 cabs to get to the restaurant, and it was raining, so cab was the way to go. CW and I got into one cab, and J,N, and C into another. CW and I arrived and stood outside the restaurant and waited. And waited. Finally after something like 15 minutes, N came OUT of the restaurant and asked how long we'd been there!! As CW and I were in the cab that took off first, and we knew our way to the restaurant and our driver didn't take any "long shortcuts" we are STILL trying to figure out how J, N and C arrived before we did!

I want to go with you the next time. So happy to see your report knowing what you went through last year. Your report just made me so joyful.

Giancarlo arrived a little late for dinner, but certainly not unduly tardy. We ordered the mixed antipasto sampler starter for the table again, and I noticed--perhaps it was just coincidence?--that the wild boar sausages were not brought to the table! Again, we drank Prosecco, and talked and laughed, and I confessed to everyone that I'd almost cried in Santa Croce that day. One of the relics in the church is the finger of St. Thomas. My father's name was Thomas. There is a stained glass window depicting St. Helen, and my mom's name had been Helen. So on my birthday I felt a special presence of my parents looking down from heaven over me, and felt very moved. C had said the whole trip was simply filled with amazing experiences--whoever would have thought, for example, that she'd find a troubadour singing her favorite Italian ballad to her, when in fact it was actually a quasi-obscure song? I received amazing, wonderful gifts from my friends for my birthday, each of which had very special meanings for me. CW had a mug made which had the same design as the buttons she'd made; in it she put a packet of flavorful tea. Giancarlo gave me a historical print of the Forum. C gave me a pin that belonged to her late and much-beloved mother, and it was a butterfly. She explained she felt it was appropriate because my illness had caused me to undergo my own metamorphosis. N told me she was sending me something when I returned to the States, and she did. J gave me a lovely bracelet, which has been the catalyst for many compliments. At the end of dinner when everyone wanted to toast me, I drank, and then I asked to give a little speech. Because my voice doesn't really project anymore, N sat near me and repeated everything I said in a louder voice, as Giancarlo is a little hard of hearing. I was so moved when I was speaking, I began to cry a little, but the basics of what I said is that life is brief, fortunes come and go, men come and go sometimes, family can be flaky and so I concluded, that friends are our truest treasures. The lights dimmed right on cue, and the restaurant staff brought out my birthday cake. I have never had a finer, more memorable birthday, and I doubt I ever shall.

Any photos to let us see the wonderful celebrations?

bookchick, this is truly beautiful. I am happy that you and your friend were able to keep your promise to each other. Thank you for sharing with us.

Much to our chagrin, Saturday arrived, and this was the day C was leaving to go home. She wanted to do a little shopping after breakfast, and headed out. N was going to meet someone she "knew" who lived near the Olympic Stadium, a woman who sells handbags online and invited her to her home for lunch. J, CW and I headed out to the general area of the Piazza delle Cinque Lune/Piazza Navona. J wanted to see the Pharmacia di Santa Maria Novella to see if any fragrances "sang" to her, CW wanted to snap some photos, and I was along for my fabulous translation skills and sense of time and direction. Nothing really "sang" to J, so we headed to an outdoor cafe in Piazza Navona and had some gelato while CW snapped away with the pics. It was cold and sunny, and the heaters at this particular place were working hard. We decided to head back to the hotel to say farewell to C before she departed. Gianni was taking her to the airport. When we arrived at the hotel, C seemed surprised and happy to see us; we sat in the lobby and watched the most amazing thing: the San Carlo was getting new mattresses, and at least a half-dozen guys were hauling them all in. It was almost like a movie scene from some crazy comedy, and we couldn't help but laugh. At last Gianni arrived and we walked C out to the van, and blew kisses to her as they drove away. So delighted she joined us, and so profoundly sorry to see her go.

Each of us decided to repair to our rooms for a while, but after a bit I decided to venture out onto the roof terrace. Now CW had a room with a private terrace, that was separated from the roof terrace by a screen. Her private terrace not only had a couple of chairs, but a little table, and she came out, and we saw each other and she invited me over. I came over and we began to chat. It was still sunny out but a tad cold, and CW, a gracious hostess, went into the room and returned with a pashmina for me and a jacket for herself. N appeared and sat down and told us all about her luncheon with her Italian friend.

CW has a friend who is a film-maker of documentaries and lives in Rome. The girls had decided to meet up with her for dinner, and I was invited but begged off. I had a mild headache and felt a bit "off". So I read in my room and watched a bit of TV and dozed.

Sunday morning was also very sad for us because CW was leaving to go back to Karlsruhe, her home in Germany. We had breakfast together, and hugs were exchanged, and promises of pictures sent to each other. I missed her the instant she left, such a talented lady.

This left N, J and myself to our own devices. We went out to Vatican City after we knew the Pope had already given his blessing, in order to avoid the crowds. N wanted to mail some postcards from the Vatican postal slot, as their mail delivery to overseas venues seems to be faster than Italian mail. We popped into Domus Artes and saw Elena, and she urged us to go to the restaurant, Cafe Bernini, where her husband works. It's right on Piazza Navona, so we thought, sure, what the heck, we'd try it.

J was feeling a bit off, and wanted to look for a pharmacy. We found one on via del Corso and I went in with her and spoke Italian on her behalf to request some throat lozenges. Because my voice is so "off", Giancarlo had given me a throat spray, and I'd passed that along to J to use at the hotel. The food at Cafe Bernini wasn't bad, we had lunch there, and just kind of wandered around Rome. Elena's husband, Massimo was a kind, delightful fellow.

Each of us took a little time in our rooms alone and then met up again in the lobby to decide what to do for dinner. We ended up in the place of the Handsome Waiter, Di Fronte A..where N and the waiter flirted back and forth much to the amusement of J and myself. I was feeling a bit of indigestion and ordered some pineapple for the natural digestive enzymes. We returned to our hotel to go to sleep on our last night in Rome.

Monday morning dawned, sunlit and perfect and our last morning in Rome. N had arranged for the car service we'd be using, and I think I stayed in my room until the very last possible moment, simply because I couldn't face the reality this was all ending, and I didn't want it to. Dante and Christopher came to my room to collect my bags and I thought I would burst into tears. I had written little notes to several members of the staff, and brought them to the lobby with me. In Italian I had written to Alberto "thank you for making my dream a reality". Now in the past, Alberto has come out from behind the front desk to shake hands with me, but this time he kissed me on each cheek, held my face in his hands, and said "Signora Kelly, everybody loves you. Please come back and see us again as soon as you can, and stay healthy and beautiful as you are today". It was all I could do once again not to burst into tears. It helped to have N and J with me, and the 3 of us, once situated in the SUV taking us to the airport, chattered away like magpies. J, I could tell, was still feeling a bit under the weather but was carrying on like a trouper. She and I were on the same flight to Amsterdam. When we arrived at the airport and figured out where we needed to be, we bid farewell to N, who was flying on a different airline on a non-stop to a US city close to her home. As we hugged, I said to her "It was the best promise I ever made" to which she added "and kept!", and I knew she was right.

J and I flew KLM Royal Dutch (partnered with NWA), and were in seats near each other, with one empty seat between us. We were fed lunch, and had the opportunity to chat a bit more. Once we arrived in Amsterdam, J had to find her gate, as her flight departed an hour ahead of mine. I plunked down in a KLM lounge and send off a couple of e-mails.

After I arrived home, a package from N came. She was amused that I was floundering so much with my new hair, and its post-chemo curliness. I'd jokingly dubbed myself "The Shoodle", telling the ladies my hair was a cross between a sheep and a poodle. N sent a book on dealing with curly hair, and some "non-shampoos" as those of us with curly hair don't need to use shampoo all that often, and in some instances not at all. C had joked that while in Italy her motto had been "follow the Shoodle" and that my blonde hair stood out for both the color and curly aspects, making it easy for her to spot and follow me in almost every venue.

I will never, ever, ever forget or regret a moment of this trip, and I am keenly aware of how fortunate I am, not only to still be alive, but to have marvelous friends who would travel all that way simply to help me celebrate that fact.

The even better news? My last set of scans, done in August, bear out that I remain in remission. Two weeks ago my hematologist in Boston told me I need to have the scans repeated in 6 months, and if those are clear, I won't need to have them repeated for a year.

Life is filled with compensations, delights, and is generally quite sweet.

Thanks for reading,
BC

BRAVO!!!! Wish this report was longer.

Wow. Just...wow. What a wonderful trip report! I'm so glad you were able to do this, Bookchick.

Lee Ann

Bookchick, what a truly wonderful report. Where are a box of tissues when you need them?

I'm so glad you had such a great visit with your friends.

Here's to many more trips to Rome.

Johanna

Thank YOU for sharing! I thoroughly enjoyed reading about your trip with your friends! I wish you the best!

bookchick,

Thank you for such an amazing and upbeat report. I too remember reading about the troubles you went through and am so happy you were able to go to Roma for your birthday.

It sounds like you have a GREAT bunch of friends to share this with you. If you can, I, like others hope you can post some pictures of your trip.

Tom

Bravo, indeed, Bookie! Congratulations on all fronts!

That was certainly a Birthday to remember, Kathy.
I am so happy that you were able to go back once again to La Bella Roma.

It was a joy reading your trip report.Take care..

Truly "minestra di pollo per l'anima".

Thank you for a beautiful read.

God bless,

M.

great report.....see you tomorrow in boston!!

Bless you Bookchick! This makes me long to be in Rome with loved ones.

Of course it doesn't really take much to make me long to be in Rome with loved ones. But still.

Thanks for sharing your report. Sounds like you had a wonderful time with great friends.

May you have many more trips to Rome in your future!

Che bella. Your birthday celebration brought tears to my eyes. Best wishes for many more with those you love.

Thank you, thank you, thank you for posting. I will be reading over the weekend!

Wow, what experiences--and what a report. Thanks so much.

Brava, BC. This isn't just a trip report, it's a celebration!

Three cheers for "the shoodle"!

I am glad the trip turned out to be all you could wish for! You deserved it. You are so lucky to have friends who will travel with you. Looking forward to seeing you tomorrow.

BC,

What an amazing trip report! I read it at work and was glad no one stopped by my desk - I had tears during some parts.

I look forward to seeing you tomorrow!

TR

Carina Bookina!
thank you for doing all the hard work and posting this!
You did leave out the kiss from that fabulously handsome waiter though
I wish we were back there again.
I miss you !!!!! and I miss italy.
Stay healthy and maybe Next Year Roma!

Looking forward to tomorrow's festive gathering as well!

Oh BOOKIE, Bella Sorisa~! Reading this brought it all back -- one of the most magical weeks of my life.

None of us will ever forget it; you gave a such a gift to us all!

Love you! xxxxxxxxx

Your
C.

What a wonderful report and a wonderful way to celebrate.

I am sending you hugs bookchick and rejoycing in your beautiful birthday week in Rome and also in your good news regarding your health. May you and your precious friends have many more trips together.

To the readers of this post, I thank you and welcome your comments. Two of my travel companions, C and N have posted on this thread as Morning Giggle and Sorrisa respectively. We all "met" years ago, right here on the Fodors European Forum. Those ladies rarely post here anymore, but I'm delighted they came here to read the account of their trip.

To all of you, I would heartily urge you to celebrate friendships!

BC

Brava, bookchick!

Many more trip reports to come please!

Wonderful report, thank you for sharing.

Oh bookchick, I so agree with your comment about friends. And over the years several Fodorite's have become such dear friends. I always celebrate that I have them in my life and feel very blessed. Wishing you a relaxing weekend!

Dear bookchick,

What a great trip report! You've been on here even longer than I have and I always enjoy hearing about your trips to Italy.

I'm so glad you were able to keep that promise and enjoy Rome again with your friends. A super birthday for sure!

Keep well bella

Loved your report BC. Nice that you are "better". I'm looking forward to my next visit. I like the area of your Hotel in Rome. Did you happen to take any pictures near there?

What a wonderful report. With all that's going on in the world these days, thanks for reminding me what's really important.

bookchick, I just found this report. I always enjoy your reports, but this one is really special. I'm so delighted to hear that you're doing well and were able to return to Rome. It's my favorite place, too, and I always end the evening with Limoncello, although I have mine in the Piazza Navona.

May you have many more trips to Rome!

Hi Bookchick, I'm delighted that SusanP found your lovely trip report as somehow I missed it back in 2008.

I have also travelled with girlfriends to celebrate mutual birthdays, in 2006 5 of us spent a week in Paris to celebrate our 50th birthdays and then this year we headed to New York, Boston and Waikiki for our 55th birthday celebrations. They are special holidays and I treasure the memories.

I remember reading recently that your health is still good which is wonderful news.

Yes, my health is still doing fine, thanks.

My travel is being greatly curtailed due to finances and a new job in a tiny company, however, so not much time off to travel and little $$$ these days with which to travel. My passport expired in late July and I haven't renewed it.

BC

I missed this the first time around and got all excited that you had nade it back to Rome before I checked the dates. It was a great read and if anyone deserved a perfect trip it is you

Bookchick, just a quick question if you don't mind me asking. Did your hair stay curly? I only ask as I have a friend who has no hair at the moment due to chemo and we were both wondering what it will be like when it grows again.

bookmarking to savour later! read the first post and i very much enjoyed it. thanks for sharing

BC, I just found your trip report..I will read it later.I was in Rome in September with my daughter Christina and we trew a coin in the fountain in your honor..
I hope that you will able to go back to Bella Roma in the near future.
Brooke still remember You,
Take care.

Well, I thought I had posted on this thread 3 years ago, but it's obvious now that I didn't!
I am the "J" who got to have such a marvelous trip to Rome and Florence with my fabulous friends.

I still smile when I think of:
1.all of us sipping limoncello on the rooftop of the San Carlo... the giggles were non-stop
2.THE Handsome Waiter who set the bench-mark high for all waiters I've encountered since our trip
3. the crazed TV
4. and, most of all, being part of Bookie's Roma birthday celebration

You ladies sure know how to have a great time..I wished that I were able to join your celebration.

Awww, thanks, everyone. J, nice to see you posted onto this thread!

Cathies, about 7 months after our Roman trip, I was at my hairdresser's for a visit. I was still wearing wigs at that point to work. While drying my hair after a shampoo, she remarked that she was starting to see my "old" texture. I told her to cut my hair short to get rid of the "shoodle curls". She gulped and said "Are you sure? It's going to be REALLY short!". I assured her it was fine, as I was spending most of my time wearing wigs in public anyway. She did it and a few days later I flew to Colorado to surprise my BFF "early" for her birthday. When she greeted me she remarked on my appearance, and I said "Hold on, you ain't seen nothin' yet!", and peeled off my wig. She LOVED the ultra-short hair and told me I looked like Dame Judi Dench...which I would have taken as a compliment if only Dame Judi wasn't 25-30 years my senior!

Kismet, thank you for that "coin toss". I hope and pray it will work, but I have to say, when people look at the luck they've had in life, I feel like I've won the lottery several times over. At the time of my diagnosis, I had 6 blood clots, which is actually what got me admitted into the hospital. If any of those clots had moved to my heart or brain, I wouldn't be sitting here typing this right now. My "glass" will always be more than half-full, for whatever number of years remain of my life. "Somebody" really wanted me here, and I'm very, very grateful for that.

BC