Rome, Part 3

(continued from previous entry)

As Karen and I headed out in our Quest, we had to hike across the elegant streets of Rome, covered with cobble stones.

While the street texture may prove difficult to navigate in high heels, Karen and I were able to romantically strode along the Italian streets in our sandals. Along the way, we noticed the excellent parking job of some of these locals.

As we entered the major street of Via Nazionale, we observed the extravagant facade with statues on many buildings…

Also, Rome buildings were often painted with the bright, cheerful portion of the visible spectrum. Home Depot would make a fortune in Rome.

At the end of Via Nationzale, we entered the gigantic Piazza della Repubblica…

There used to be wood furnaces that heated up the water for some serious bath, a long, long time ago. In the center stood the statue of Victor Emmanuel (whoever he is), and surrounding it were four water nymphs (censored).

Finally, we descended into the underground mall of the train station (Termini) in search of the cable, but none of the stores carried it. On the way, I attempted to make an ATM withdraw, but instead of the “Thank you, here’s your money”, I got something equivalent to “No money for you! Card not enabled for international withdraw.” Oh oh. Houston, we got a problem.

At this point we were famished, so we dropped by a self-service restaurant.

My seafood salad was surprisingly delicious…

But Karen got what appeared to be raw Mongolian BBQ platter…

I hope it was really prosciutto wasn’t labeled “E. Coli 7 Euros”.

As we made our way to the cassiere (cashier), a huge advertisement caught my attention: “Speciale: Cappuccino 0.50 Euro”. At such an inexpensive price, we bought one, thinking of sharing the warm, luscious coffee over lunch. Instead, we got this…

The size of the cup proved to be insignificant, and the volume of the content was even more underwhelming. For the record, not a single sip had been taken prior to the photography.

After lunch, we ventured across the land of the terminals to seek the wisdom of the masters at the TI (Tourist Info), who set us out on a journey to the nearest computer store. Finally, a glimmer of hope! After arriving at the store at 3:30, we glanced inside only to stare into darkness. Closed. What self-respecting store is closed at 3:30 in the afternoon! A quick inspection of the sign revealed the hours 8-1, 4-6. Slackers! Apparently it was common for Italians to take a siesta, or an “afternoon nap/rest”.

As we waited impatiently across the street at Piazza Indipendenza, the atmosphere of Europe became evident as the music of accordian surrounded the place…

Finally at 4pm, the store opened. Once again we were met with the disappointment of visiting a store that sold the Ipod but not the cable. A salesperson pointed us to yet another store, extending our scavenger hunt. Along the way, we eyed an European furniture store in gluttany, wishing we could import it all…

After arriving the store, once again we found Ipod, but no cable. At this point were struck with despair, so we returned to the first computer store to salvage our vacation by purchasing their cheapest cable… the one came with an Ipod. As I tried bargaining with the manager to explain the ethical implications of bundling an Ipod with the cable, he replied, “If you need just cable, go to Apple store”. Apple store?! Where!!!

To make a long store short, it was a Mac Store and… without the IPod bundle, it was indeed easier on the wallet. Praise God! Mission accomplished.

On the way back, we noticed the nationalism of the Italians…

And took some random pictures, now that memory space was no longer an issue…

For dinner, we went to the Flann O’Brien Irish Pub, which according to Rick Steve’s Italy Tour Guide, “is an entertaining place for a light meal, fine Irish beer, live sporting events on TV, and perhaps the most Italian crowd of all.” Being a novice at ordering Italian cruisine, I inquired the waitress about their special.

“Lasagna”, she replied.

“Uno Lasagna”, I ordered the authentic italian food by giving her the finger. The index finger.

As a side note, I didn’t realize that the index finger actually meant two in Italy. One would use just the thumb to indicate “one”. Glad she understood, because contrary to what I had ingrained into my mind as Lasagna as early as infancy, the plate that came was…

Ravioli skins in Ravioli sauce?! “Lasagna”, the waitress insisted. Oh… okay.

Now that our first quest is complete, which sights and monuments shall James and Karen uncover? What other Italian cultural nuisances will unfold? What about the ATM situation and the inability to replenish our cash supply? Find out next time… on my blog! 😀