Day 9

Rome. Our last day in the eternal city and we needed to pick up the pace if we wanted to try and see all the spots on the itinerary. We couldn't afford to linger the way we had the day before at St Peter's. First stop was the Porta Portesa market - a large outdoor flea market selling everything from electronics and clothing to grandfather clocks. It was a great learning experience. Look at something closely, ask the price and walk away. The price will magically drop and you can then be sure of a good deal. You could walk away twice if you feel the vendor is holding out on you, but never pay the first price touted. Some good deals to be had though, especially with clothing. Afterwards had a Grande donut - about 25 Centimetres across - delicious! We set out to find the Colloseum and the heat of Rome was beginning to make itself felt - 31 degrees. We caught a bus part of the way and would then catch a tram. Felt weird because as we exited the bus, we saw our number tram pulling up across the road but going in the opposite direction, so we ran desperately after it and managed to board it! Ahhh, the wonders of air conditioning! Too bad a few minutes later, one of the few Italian women who could speak English and was sitting nearby, overheard our conversation and gently advised that we were indeed on the right number tram and route, just going the wrong way. So we got off at the next stop and made a run for the zebra crossing to get to the opposite side of the tracks. All of us except Kerry, who ran directly across the tracks in front of our stationery tram and then the oncoming tram - which was not stationery and which she would have entered directly via the front window, had it not been stopping at our terminus. Death having been avoided for the moment, we made for the Colloseo and decided to have lunch at a restaurant a few streets away. Just a tip: the restaurants directly opposite the Colloseum are quite a bit more pricey than those just a few streets back. Lunch was nice pasta and as with tomato pasta, one tends to splatter white blouses with red sauce. The restaurant saw the marks and provided the use of a type of stain remover spray that dries into a powder and wipes off. Voila! Brilliant little thoughtful touch.

The Colloseum was not quite as large as I had thought. It seated around 70 000 people which is about average in terms of Football stadia today, but for the time must have been impressive. The building itself is quite dull. The entire building used to be clad in white and coloured marble but this was all stripped from the building after it fell into disuse after a series of earthquakes, its bare walls giving it its the earthy colour. It must have been magnificent in its full glory. In the film, Gladiator, when the Nubian character sees the Colosseum for the first time, he turns to the main character and whispers: 'I did not know that men could build such things.' After seeing St Peter's and St John Lateran, which have both been well maintained in all their glory, and imagining what the Colosseum would have looked like, that sentiment probably best expresses my wonder as well. We took a guided tour and heard an interesting tidbit: that there were apparently not that many Christians executed and thrown to the lions here as had previously been thought. Certainly it happened at a number of the circuses around Rome, but historical evidence - or the lack thereof- suggests that this only happened in very limited numbers at the Colloseum itself.

We decided to catch the 6pm mass at St Peter's Basilica and arrived a little late for the service - which had started at 530pm (!) and was the last mass of the day. Richard made a slight detour to a bathroom and when he entered the Church, Kerry and I waved at him to indicate where we were waiting, an elderly little Italian man, obviously a warden, who had seen Kerry waving her arms, rushed over and scolded her forcefully at some length in hissed Italian as to how she could show such disrespect while Mass was in progress about 100 metres away at the rear altar. Since he hadn't seen me wave, I nodded solemnly in agreement with him, allowing a reasonable mixture of disgust and regret to show on my face at how my fellow traveller had shamed us by her inappropriate behaviour. Mass was quite simply done - no incense and 'bells and smells', the only indications that we were in St Peters was the magnificence of the building, the tuxedoed and evening-gowned choir that led the singing and the plainclothes bodyguards that watched our every move and even escorted the Cardinal and the procession out at the end.

Security is tight. You go through metal detectors etc. but there are discreet cameras everywhere. The 'ushers' are extremely polite in directing you, but there is no question of compliance and you are left in no doubt as to how quickly that civility would dissappear if one failed to heed their instructions. Even the normally somewhat stroppy Americans toed the line obediently. We left St Peters after Mass, with a feeling of sadness as you feel when you leave home: excited at the travels ahead, but looking forward to the day when it is time to return as well. God willing, it is a place I would like to return to every few years.

We had another of those oversized icecreams at the Old Bridge afterwards and queued for it for about 20 minutes - this is at around 7pm on a Sunday evening! Then headed to Trevis fountain, where we all - including Russ our mascot bear, and much to the amusement of the crowd, threw coins into the fountain. Apparently, up to 1500 Euros are thrown in coins into the fountain every day. For 34 years, until 2002, a homeless man who was mentally unstable, collected the coins secretly every day - that is a minimum of 1000 Euros a day for 34 years, which is serious cash! There were court orders to and fro and now, it is not illegal to remove the coins, but it is illegal to wade into the fountain to get them, which kind of rules it out. Once a week, the fountain is cleaned by the local council and the money given to the charity, Caritas.

Our last stop was the Spanish steps where pesky flower sellers give your girlfriend or wife roses and then pester the boyfriend or husband for payment. Kerry who didn't want to hurt their feelings, was really pestered, but fortunately for me, (in this instance anyway), Carmen is a little more, shall we say...direct at anybody who tries to invade her personal space and the sellers backed away from her pretty quickly. The actual steps are marble and abuzz with tourists even at 9pm on a Sunday evening. Kerry bought chestnuts from a guy roasting them nearby, but we tried them and decided they are best left in cheesy American Christmas songs, so she traded them with one of the pesky rose sellers for 3 roses. Then we made our way back to the tubes to head back to the camp site. On the way, Carmen decided to illegally film the tube trains and station as her mom has not seen them yet. So as surreptitiously as possible, she held the video camera at waist height, opened the lens cap, switched it on and proceeded to film the inside of the train and the tube station. She is a really bad spy and was so obviously guilty and over-casual that I was certain that at any moment the Metro SWAT team would descend on us and throw us all in an Italian jail. Eventually, when we finally emerged from the train station and were safely some distance away, we checked the camera and were greatly disappointed to discover that all the cloak and dagger stuff had been in vain. Carmen had not depressed the record button firmly enough and we had no footage! Another day in Italy!

Goodnite!