Coffeephoria

(continued from previous Europe trip entry…)

Now we were ready to hit the big Roman attractions, and where else could we have chosen but…

The Colosseum.  Pictures do not do justice the size of this monster.  As soon as we descended the steps to approach the structure, we were greeted by these friendly Gladiators, who Karen took a picture with…

What a nice service from the Colosseum, I thought.  What?  You want me in the picture too?  And you’ll take the picture for us?  Hand you the camera?  Now wait a minute…

As soon as I denied his request, he immediately asked for money.  Initially I refused, but after some haggling, I relented and handed him just a few petty euros.  He watched me in disgust as we hurriedly zipped out of there.  Apparently I had missed this crucial paragraph in my guidebook:

Beware of Goofy Gladiators: For a fee, the incredibly crude modern-day gladiators snuff out their cigarettes and pose for photos.  They take easy-to-swindle tourists for too much money.  Watch out if you tangle with these guys (they’re armed… and accustomed to getting as much as 100 euros from naive Asian tourists).

I suppose we got off easy.

It may be difficult to identify the long line in this picture, but a long line runs somewhere along the middle of the building.  Armed with the Rick Steve guide, we headed to a secret passage that led to a covert ticket booth at a deserted side of the Roman Forum.  Colosseum wait time: 1 hour.  Deserted entrance wait time: 2 minutes.

After what seemed like an endless flight of stairs, we entered the interior…

saw some ancient roman misplaced labels…

and breathed in the immense size of the interior of this place. Pictures cannot do justice unless the picture is enlarged to an appreciable dimension.

The bottom part was supposed to house different trap doors for wild beasts to appear and devour the gladiators.

Finally, we’ve visited our first Roman attraction–a building from the first century where the Romans stuck two theatres together to watch people get their body parts chewed off and people getting killed.  Such savage sport… glad we don’t have anything like this today.  Oh wait, I guess there’s boxing.

After exiting the colosseum, we headed toward…

…the Arch of Constantine, where Emperor Constantine defeated Maxentius in the Battle of Milvian Bridge after seeing the vision of a cross in the sky the night before.  This is where Christianity is legalized.  Before AD 300, you were killed as a Christian, but afterwards, you were killed for not being one.

After this, we headed over to the Roman Forum next door, but I’ll share that next time, on my blog!

(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! 😀

(continued from yesterday)

Apparently the IPod plug arrived in Europe with us but the USB cable connecting the iPod to the plug itself did not. This Series of Unfortunate Events left us with the need to save space by lowering the picture resolution to those on par with mosaics. Here’s a sample of that…

IMG style=”BORDER-TOP-WIDTH: 0px; BORDER-LEFT-WIDTH: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM-WIDTH: 0px; HEIGHT: 400px; BORDER-RIGHT-WIDTH: 0px” alt=”” src=”/blogs/images/20060820/mosaic.jpg”>

After struggling with this, we decided against it as it might be a difficult undertaking to find picture frames for our 8mm x 10mm pictures. To salvage this fiasco, we decided to turn our next day into an adventure: “The Quest for the Holy Cable”.

The next morning, Karen and I woozily woke up and stumbled our way to the breakfast table. I selected my choice cereal…

…and scooped some milk out of the cocktail bowl.

As I poured it on my cereal, I noticed that the Italian milk exhibited a peculiar lumpy texture, the texture of… yogurt!! Oops. Looks like this bowl is making its way to Karen.

I figured it was time to sober up through the potent aid of caffeine. I approached the coffee machine, depressed the button labeled “Cappuccino”, and voila! Out gushed this cappuccino…

I took a sip. Mmmm…… Not bad. Would have been nicer, though, had there actually been coffee in this cream. A nun later explained (with words none of which I understood), that to get Cappuccino, the cup needed to be filled with expresso first. In America, when I see a button labeled “Cappuccino” and I press it, I expect “Cappuccino”. Apparently the Italians think otherwise.

Then I picked up a couple of Italian breads. They are always deviously served cold and impart a sour taste. Italian bread is versatile, however, as it doubles as a weapon of mass destruction when tossed and can easily penetrate a wall or create an oversized bruise on a human target.

The Nutella has its origins in Italy and tasted just as good as the ones in the States. Then there was the Schinkencreme…

Took one bite. Yup. Cat food. Garfield would love this stuff.

Afterwards, we headed out toward the Main Terminal in search of our treasure. What would we find along the way? Would we find the cable? Find out next time… on my blog! 😛

 

 

Back in May, Karen and I plucked ourselves from our daily routines and took a three week vacation to Europe. Neither of us had been there, but we’ve certainly heard of its reputation for two things: lots of history… and lots of theft. Many of you have expressed the desire to see our pictures before your grand-kids are born, so let me just take you through our journey through select pictures.

The trip didn’t sink in until we hopped on the Northwest plane and realized we were finally going to take a step in the European soil! The plane definitely had an upgrade in the multimedia system since the last time I rode it.

40+ Movie on demand! This includes Blockbuster movies, Disney movies to quiet those noisy brats, and games including trivia that you can play with other people on the plane! Wow. The ability to pause the movie when the rude pilot interrupted us or when food came was priceless. The geek in me noticed it was a linux system with each screen as a different console, so perhaps there’s some market opportunity for Microsoft here.. Oops, back to our story.

Our connecting flight was in Netherlands, and everything felt like an American airport, aside from the language, until we noticed airport security dressed in green camouflage suits and carried semi-automatic weapons suspiciously resembling the AK-47s. Yeah. I was glad I wrote my will before I left town.

When it came to nature calls, Netherland airport took the cake. As I walked in, soothing ambient music filled the air, and I was surrounded by a gorgeous view of the city… wallpaper. I must give credit where credit is due, as their urinal design is a piece of excellent engineering. The contemporary design of this stall is elegant, and yet the ergonomics of the design provide more splash resistance. Talk about raising the bar.

Now with one panoramic view across all the walls, the entire experience felt eerily like doing a #1 onto someone’s roof, but there was something mysteriously soothing about taking care of nature… in nature. (Jeffrey should know, after that “Ferry” incident. 😀 )

Upon arriving in Rome, Italy, we decided to take the Leonardo Express, a train that connected the airport with the city. Wow, a city that succeeded in building aiport connection rails. I was definitely not in Seattle any more.

Then we took a walk through a good portion of the city and finally found the first place we’re staying, Il Rosario. A convent.

After a short nap for the jet lag, the night had descended and hunger had struck, so we randomly picked a place to dine. One thing I have to say… don’t take American service for granted. The Italian waiter was slow and unresponsive beyond belief! The worst Chinese restaurants in America seemed like Red Robins to this place when it comes to service.

After what seemed like an eternity, we got our orders, a tuna pasta…

and some Italian pizza…

Don’t be fooled by my photography. We were slightly disappointed, as the quality of this food was easily exceeded by Karen’s own cooking, thanks to her private tutor, Giada de Laurentiis on the Food Network. Maybe we hyped ourselves up too much for authentic Italian food, but this stuff was certainly… edible.

After that we headed back to the convent.

Our room was institutional and smaller than those found in most American hotels, but it was immaculate and came with a private bathroom. After Karen took a shower, we realized a design flaw…

The place had nothing for water containment, and the shower drain, partially blocked by the mat, was also partially cluttered. The result…

No, those weren’t shiny tiles. The reflection stemmed from the deluge that escaped the confinement of the bathroom and ventured through the doorcrack into our bedroom. I certainly wasn’t expecting to role-play a hotel maid on our first night in Italy.

After taking care of the floor, I opened my bag and … OH NO! We forgot to bring a critical item, the item so crucial that it would decimate the fabrics of our vacation. Which item was this? And how did we rectify this situation? Find out next time… on my blog. 😛