Rome

I wanted to love you, Rome. I really did. People I trust about such things told me I would and I believed them.

But no one expects the Spanish Inquisition. Er, I mean, the beatification of John Paul II.

I have never, in all my travels, been in a place so lousy with tourists. Spanish Steps and Trevi Fountain? So covered in people we couldn't move.



We showed up at the Vatican Museums at 9 a.m. when they open to see the Sistine Chapel and there was a line 10 people wide and a quarter of a mile long. Pantheon: wall to wall fanny packs, cameras, Hello Kitty bags, and bermuda shorts with tube socks.

There was some good stuff. Lunch at the first place we spotted after we checked into our hotel was amazing. It was one of these places with a handful of daily specials that weren't written down anywhere. They brought us a plate of bread with a spread of potato, olive oil, tuna and capers, then buccatini alla carbonara and buccatini alla amatriciana, and everything was incredible.



We walked around the Coloseum at sunset and it was spectacular, even if it was covered in tourists.






And after the Coloseum we found this wine bar, where we had the best caponata on earth. Really, it is not possible for caponata to be tastier. Layers of caramelized onion, tomato, and eggplant umami with just a hint of vinegar.



Wandering accidentally upon Trajan's column was pretty cool.





Art was mocked.







St. Peter's. It is very large. We are the two tiny heads in the lower right corner.


I had my first sfogliotella and it was amazing!



And I took Theresa to a Roman bath for her birthday.



The spa was in the historic Jewish quarter, the Ghetto. And yes, that is the origin of the word.






A glass of prosecco for the birthday girl.




I'll be happy to give Rome another try, but next time I'm going to be sure the Catholic church isn't turning anyone into a saint the week we visit. In the meantime, some pretty pictures.