If you’ve ever taken a trans-Atlantic flight you can probably relate that you’re a mess when you finally arrive. Of course we didn’t ante-up for the luxury of a direct flight (opted for Dallas - Toronto - Rome) and our internal clock didn’t know which time zone it was in – heck, we didn’t know if it was day or night (and we even managed to nap a bit on the plane.)
Once off the plane, however, we retrieved our luggage and made our way through immigration, all went well. We even made our way to the train without getting lost (we only asked for directions and assistance a couple of times.) Once on the train we started to fret about finding the ‘tram’ we needed to take to our hotel. Let’s see, a tram – what is a tram???– is it a bus?? Is it another train?? No – it’s the tram….. I can say without a doubt there are guardian angels in this world and we were fortunate enough to have found one. A nice gentleman from Rome took pity on us. He said that as a Roman it was his duty to assist visitors to his country. Imagine such a noble concept – it was his duty….. Not only did he help us from the train, he walked us to the tram stop, helped us buy our tickets, showed us where to get the darned things punched so we wouldn’t get a fine from the transit police- even where to board. Once we seemed up to task he bid us ‘Arriviederci.’ Golly - do we love Rome…
Next we needed to find the hotel. Once we were off the tram we attempted to pinpoint our whereabouts on the map. With jet-lagged brains that was Mission Impossible! Not only were we tired and in a fog (heck, we’re always in a fog), but the streets of Rome are a web of narrow, interconnected alleyways. They were, after all, built a long, long time ago. Street signs are inconsistent – some are small, some are large, and they are easily confused for signs for a building or Piazza – not necessarily a street. When you manage to spot a street sign, you’re not really sure which way it’s pointing. So we walk round, and round, and round the square searching in vain for our hotel. It is supposed to be right here – at the end of the #8 Argentina Tram Line. We stop a half dozen people and ask if they know where it is, but of course none of them have heard of it. Signs are pointing in every direction and we can’t make heads or tails of anything…. By sheer accident, a fellow spotted a sign with the name of our street and was able to discern which direction the numbers were heading. Then voile – there it was - right in front of us – just to the left, where it was supposed to be. Of course did we look left??? I don’t think so. Typical Nancy and Joe – we are definitely directionally challenged.
We hauled our backpacks and luggage up 4 flights of stairs, checked in and flopped on the bed. We tried to rest a bit without going to sleep, but that’s sooooo hard to do. Finally we realize we better get moving or we’re really going to be in a pickle – so off we go to pound the streets of Rome.
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