Dln, I'm really enjoying your report. Imagine all of the Cardinals packed into the Sistine Chapel for the Conclave! I'd say, let's get this vote over and get out of here!

Thanks for writing this up. You made me feel like I was there with you. Very enjoyable.

dln: Love your report. You're so very
articulate. Thanks.

darlin, please write very slowly so this will last a looong time~ I am so enjoying this ((F))

dln
What a marvelous report!!!!!
You have the gift....when will the book be published????

What a pleasure to read such genuine enjoyment of a trip! Thanks , dln!

more, more.

dln:
My husband and I had our last meal in Italy at DaLucia (hard to believe that it was a week ago today) and it sounds like we had the same meal! My husband had the rabbit and I had the veal stew and we both had the spaghetti alla gricia. We sat outside and loved it. I had brought my Gourmet's March 2003 issue the Rome collector's edition and I had seen a small mention of DaLucia in it(pg 157). It has been there since 1938. I thought it the perfect spot for our last night. Ciao

Leslie, we found out about that restaurant from a Boston Globe newspaper article, several years old. It was one of our favorites, and obviously hasn't suffered in quality over nearly 70 years in business! I too brought a few Gourmet articles with me for reference.

Will write more later today or tomorrow; thanks everyone for reading and leaving such nice words for me.

dln, I have enjoyed reading your trip report. I love your descriptive writing.

The next time I'm in Rome I want to stay in an apartment in Trastevere; it sounds like a wonderful part of Rome.

THE VATICAN AND GIANOCOLO GARDENS

...The Pieta. I was a bit dismayed at Mary's youthful face. She had to have been at least 48 years old when Christ died, and I was disappointed in some ways that Michaelangelo chose to portray her as nearly younger than her son. It wouldn't have detracted from the statue to have portrayed Mary more accurately. However, perhaps the Bible says she is ageless; I do not know, and it really does not matter. Michaelangelo has sculpted a world of sadness and beauty in Mary's face. Christ was so broken by his crucifiction. The Pieta moved us because no mother should ever have to hold the lifeless, broken body of her son. It was achingly sad.

I liked Bernini's garish bronze altar canopy. No wonder they needed to scavenge bronze from the Pantheon--there' a whole lot of metal in that thing. I hadn't expected to like it, but the columns made me laugh. Looked like they were doing the funky chicken. They girated and twisted, nd I could almost hear a Baroque disco beat. Too funny! I wondered if Bernini was aiming for whimsey, or whether that was just my peculiar take on it.

We took the wrong street on our way back towards Trastevere. We walked up a drab street lined with motorcycle showrooms. We couldn't get into the Gianocolo Gardens because we were outside the city walls, and there were no gates in sight for us to pass through. Not very fun. It dawned on us that the thin red lines on our map weren't there to improve the graphics; they indicated invincible walls. They kept us out as they had legions before us. The street narrowed down and became surrounded by 12' high walls on both sides, one way traffic, and only a 3' margin upon which we could walk. The cars zoomed by us at breakneck speed as we hugged the walls.

Finally we found the city gates and thus the way to the overlook we wanted in the Gardens. Not before having to ask directions, though. We stopped a man and woman in the street, map in hand, look of tired frustration in our faces. The woman glanced at my map-holding husband and then back at me with a look of sympathy that needed no translation.

The Piazza Garibaldi in the Gardens sits high over the city. Talk about a panoramic view! All the young lovers of Rome were there, sitting on the low walls, gazing goo-goo eyed at each other. R and I were there with them, twenty years past goo-goo. All those sweet young things must have looked at us--tired, more than faintly irritated with one another, so obviously middle-aged and long-married--and whispered to each other with heartfelt conviction that THEY would never end up like us. Ha! I said the same at their age. You don't know how it happens that you become middle-aged and grouchy in the midst of such splendour.

Finally back at the apartment. R was disappointed that the day has disappeared, leaving no time to visit the number one on his wish list: the Colleseum. The Vatican and St. Peter's and getting lost ate up the whole day. And he didn't especially like the Vatican Museums. I think he was truly appalled at the robber baron, suck-the-people dry mentality that led to such a collection of artwork. I said if the poor had been fed by the Church instead of being bled dry, the poor would have been long fed and still long dead. And there wouldn't have been any art for the generations to enjoy. Sort of like a "you've got to be cruel to be kind" mentality is what gave this art to eternity. He didn't buy it.

dln - I enjoyed your observations- and analogy! If I remember right, you were especially looking forward to seeing the Pietta. Re: the Piazza Garibaldi gardens,LOL! Your entitled to those marital bliss-ters! A sense of humor can make anything bearable. I'm sure you are both laughing about it by now. I am still enjoying every moment of your trip thus far.

Oops! OMG, excuse the spelling, that is, the Pieta. Shame on me!

RLA, when is your trip to Italy? I would use this as an itinerary for any first time trips to Italy. Well done, dln!

A FEW MISCELLANEOUS OBSERVATIONS OF ROME

Roman ladies come in all shapes and sizes! A marvel to me, who arrived terrified of feeling like a large giant in my average size eight. Some of them are bigger than me! I am relieved and ask Rob how he'd feel about a gelato.

Best thing about eating out: getting half a carafe of wine and a litre bottle of water, con gazzo (bubbles please). We never thought we'd drink it all, but always did. Not so good was having to eat sequentially, though this was not so rigidly imposed. Pasta always came separately from anything else, of course, but quite often we were able to eat our meat course with the vegetables or salad on the side. It was also nice to have such complete a la carte menus. The pasta serving was almost always too large for me, so several times I skipped it in favor of salad. Or soup. I liked the freedom of the Italian menu, which balanced out having to eat the Italian way. I guess we could have eaten more dessert, but we were usually too stuffed at the end of three courses! We made up for it in the afternoons, though, with gelato. Best flavors for me were green apple, melon, rhum, chocolate chip (stecchi?), creme caramel, and cafe...and whipped cream on the top! Usually cost 1.50 euros for two flavors, and as some shops were better than others, it was a mission each day to find one better than the previous day's. We KNOW we must return to Rome because we did not order a gelato at the famous Gioletti's.

Italian expresso is the elixir of the gods. With two spoonsful of sugar. R preferred cappuchino (no, we never ordered after 11 am) but give me mine straight up, thank you very much.

Sandwiches weren't terribly exciting. I had expected they'd be more like subs we get at home, complete with olives, peppers, etc. They were tasty but not exactly inspired. Salads, on the other hand, were delicious! Flavorful mesclun greens--none of our boring iceberg. Wonderful! Pass up a fruit stand? We shouldn't have as often as we did, because the grapes are like eating little drops of sunshine. We shouldn't have let our lack of Italian, or our inability to convert kilos to pounds, keep us away from the fruit stands.

I wished we'd have learned these three things better before embarking to Rome. First, learned how to convert Celsius to Farenheit. It was 19 degrees on day; 26 the next. Wear a sweater, or too hot for a sweater? Second, numbers. At least I should have learned up to 20 so I could count the change with the salesperson, or understand how much they wanted! Third, metric measurements. I wished I knew how if the grapes in kilo weight were the same price as my market back home. Kilos and pound conversion would have been a useful thing for me to know.

DLN, fab job! I'm enjoying every minute of it! It's good to have you back!

Wonderful report!
Thanks for sharing such interesting observations! Ah - Italy - it does grab you heart!

Thanks for all the compliments!

POMPEI: THE PENIS TOUR, AKA SHOW ME THE BODIES

Up early to catch the train to Naples. First class; very nice! We switched to the local Circumvesuviana train once we arrived in Naples. This is a commuter train with hard plastic seats, if you can find one to sit in. We stood for the short ride to Pompei. I would say "this place blew us away" but that would invite unfortunate comparison to its previous ancient residents, wouldn't it? But it was a place that made you marvel at both the beauty of nature (mountainous volcano makes for one showstopping backdrop) and the beauty of what man can build (Pompei was made by great urban planners).

We joined an English speaking tour led by a colorful professore who raised his voice any time another tour group came too close to ours, effectively drowning them out and chasing them away. He was obnoxious in a hilarious Sinefeld kind of way, and we happily trailed him around for nearly two hours. He showed us all the Pompei penises. They were a symbol of everything good under the sun in this ancient town, and they're all over the place. We find them. On the ground, on the walls, hanging off the rafters...okay, okay just joking.

I wanted to look at the bodies, which my husband thought a bit ghoulish, but you can hardly go to Pompei and NOT see them, can you? Poor things! You can't look at them and not be moved to pity at the horror they faced so long ago.

We tramped around a bit after the tour and had lunch at the cafeteria on the grounds. For those of you reading this and planning a visit to Pompei, heed my advice here and now and avoid this cafeteria!!! Your stomachs will thank me a thousand times over. Imagine please this plate, which I had the misfortune to choose as my lunch. Take one heaping cup of mayonnaise and toss with it canned mushy peas and carrots, cubed, and add little white cubes (the last of which I assumed to be chicken, which gave me hope that this might be a palatable salad). Said white cubes turned out to be canned potatoes. One bite--and it was a six euro bite--made me realize that I was going to tour the rest of Pompei on an empty stomach. I put my plate on the ground so the stray dog under our table could eat it; he gave it a pass, as well.

We arrived in Sorrento via the same local train that took us to Pompei, an experience as far removed from our morning first class journey from Rome as is a wedding cake from a Twinkie. The skies let loose with torrents of rain as we left the train station. We got lost trying to find the stop where the hotel bus would pick us up and wandered the streets of Sorrento soaking wet, exhausted, and frustrated. Dragging our pitiful luggage through the puddles. I confess to a near major meltdown. I'd have screamed and cried had I not good manners, so I settled for kicking the luggage a few times. Good hard vicious kicks which made me feel better, and we eventually did find our stop (no correlation between the two...) A good hot bath at our hotel an hour later put me to rights again, for we had finally arrived in beautiful Sorrento!

Still going strong, dln. Keep up the great work! You're a very talented writer!

What an amazing report. Now I want to go to Italy! Thanks for sharing with all of us.

Stacy