Day 14: Making my own Roman holiday

I've discovered there are two ways of doing things: your way, and the Italian way. And if you spend enough time here, it's an inevitability you'll fall into the latter. This means moving fast without rushing, knowing exactly the questions to ask, doing your research before asking said questions, never taking milk with your Americano, feigning resigned acceptance at the situation ('Eh, cosa si può fare?'), always looking around you for a moped and never forgetting to say 'grazie'.

Although I've seen plenty of movies situated in Rome, I wanted to forge my own path. Everything's kind of a non-sequitur in my brain so I'm reverting to point form:

8ish — head downstairs, forget breakfast is included in the room rate, settle for an Americano and hit the road

8:40 — arrive at the Colosseum and see a pretty impressive crowd gathering. Fend off one woman trying to get ahead in line only to resign myself that when she does it the second time, she must really have a good reason for it. Half a minute later, enter the Colosseum and become entranced for the next two hours until I discover my audio guide doesn't go past point #6 on my paper guide.

10:30ish — brunch of Gruyere and smoked salmon whilst sitting on marble excavated from the Colosseum

11:45 — exit Ottaviano S. Pietro with no idea which way to turn to get to the Vatican; Google Maps failing me miserably

12:15 — say yes far too easily to a €50 beat-the-line tour for the Vatican, especially when there is no line to beat when our group arrives

12:30 — experience a little bit of heaven whilst sipping on an Americano outside at a cafe; this turns to slight shock when I receive the bill and realize each Americano (I had two) was €3

14:00 — we step inside the Sistine Chapel and with its 100-foot ceilings and fresco upon fresco, words fail me for what I'm seeing. There's no photography or talking (but we can breathe, says our tour guide with a stony expression, and I don't know if he's serious or joking) but that's the least of my thoughts. First, I'm wondering how they stuck Michelangelo up so high and second, how did he bend over backwards for four years to paint it all? But it's really cool as I'm recognizing all the scenes the tour guide talked about earlier: there's St. Bartholomew holding his skin in 'The Last Judgement' and ooh, look, there's Minos down in the corner. God is separating light and dark, oceans and continents up above, while Moses is set to cross the Red Sea in the Old Testament on the southern wall and the New Testament's 'Sermon on the Mount' is on the northern wall.

14:30ish — whatever awe I felt in the Vatican Museum and Sistine Chapel is eclipsed as soon as I enter St. Peter's Basilica. It's the most apt summary of what Christianity is all about: hypocrisy to the finest detail with money, beauty, power and artistic genius dripping from the walls, and a world outside that suffers as a result. And yet, I still retain my appetite and finish my smoked salmon and cheese sandwich outside in St. Peter's Square.

15:30 — walk around looking for the metro station, don't see one, inadvertently walk all the way to Piazza Navona. Rome might not have been built in a day, but apparently I was going to see it in one. Hang out at Piazza Navona and watch a street art performer, and laugh and clap in delight as the performer hugs the woman he plucked out from the crowd and dangles a bra in the air as they move apart.

16:45 — realize I'm pretty close to the Pantheon and wind my way over, taking care to avoid main streets in favour of tiny cobblestoned alleyways. Accidentally spook a girl by asking her if she could take my picture in front of the Pantheon. Sorry, blondie. Didn't mean to. Look at Google Maps and realize I'm not that close to Gelleria Borghese but don't know which bus to take or when it comes, so have a sip of water and set off in a northeasterly direction.

17:15 — after being sidelined by a parade, arrive at the big green area Google Maps indicates is where everything Borghese is to be found. But for the life of me, I can't figure out how to get to the Galleria and so I just walk around the park, snapping pictures of the sunset, teens playing soccer and marble busts of famous Italians. On the steps up, I was given three roses by a guy who insisted I take them. I tried refusing but he kept insisting, so I took them until he started following me and asking for just a little money. I should have known — I haven't been that good looking my entire life that guys have been tripping over themselves to give me roses, so why would it start now?

18:00 — make my way to Spagna metro station where I and a handful of other people are giving the elevator fits because too many of us are trying to use it. Eventually, a brave few souls sacrifice their turn and we descend, where I ride the filthy metro two stops to Repubblica. Turns out the handrail on the escalator moves about 10% faster than the foot part, and I feel oddly connected to this incongruity. Everything's really main street-y and busy and I fear my plans for getting an awesome, under-the-radar gelato are thwarted, so I 'settle' for a decaf Americano and chocolate pastry at a cafe across from my hotel. It is delicious.