20070617

There is so much to say about Italy; I suppose I'll begin where I left off. The train finally reached Italy, of course, and the Swiss CFF SBB line took a 15 or 20 minute pause, perhaps to prepare for what it would next endure. This was also my introduction to the Italian transit system, and the patience which it requires. The Italian train parked next to us at the station should have been a further clue for me, but I thought the aged and spray-painted artifact was merely a relic waiting for scrap. I might also have guessed about the state of Italian transit from the charred remains of a van we passed in the first town. But I am a slow learner, and I got accommodated to the Swiss train system, which apologized to me last week over the PA for a 3-minute delay on one of my trains.
Once my Swiss train made it over the Italian tracks into Milan (and I'm glad I took the trains, though it took longer, because I saw exactly what a difference the border of a country makes), my connection in Milan did not show up. I was told that the train written on my ticket does not exist. I was shown on a public chart that it does not exist. And I was shown on this chart which train does exist for my purpose, and where to find it. But that train did not show up either, and I am not certain that it exists either. Luckily, another train by a name not found on my ticket did exist, and delivered me only an hour behind schedule to Rome. In Rome I followed the directions to my hostel, since it was already late at night. To be fair, I perhaps made a mistake booking a hostel an hour outside the city, but it was much cheaper and seemingly more likely to have better accommodations. The directions told me to use a train which does not exist after 7pm. I used a bus instead. The next part of the directions told me to use another train which runs only part way after 7pm. And after taking the bus for this last half of the "train" ride, I tried calling the hostel, as suggested on their website, to request that the shuttle wait five or ten minutes for the seven of us on this late trip. They told me "Sorry, I guess you'll be walking." Sorry, indeed, except that I had a hope, a suspicion, and a prayer that Italian transit is dominated not by Murphy's Law, but by tardiness. I'm thrilled to say that tardiness won, and the bus picking us up did not arrive at 11pm, as scheduled, but arrived 3 minutes after we did, at 11:10pm. Hooray me! Jon 1: Italy 3-issimo.
So I arrived at the hostel, and looked for the lockers. Every hostel has lockers for people to safely store things like the computers they're writing their travel blogs on, right? Not this one. Instead, there is a room, and you go to the front desk to retrieve the key, so you and your friends can go to the locked door behind the building and take anything you want, then return the key. Needless to say, I am not happy about this security situation. But the high point of the hostel is that there is a bar open until 2am right outside my room, and there are also dorms which are mixed guy/girl. This means that I get to be very pleased with myself for bringing earplugs, a sleeping mask, and an engagement ring.
But my experience in Italy changed completely this morning. After the mental beating I took yesterday, I think I've adapted to the Italian way of life. I got onto the bus without any concern that I had forgotten to buy a ticket first, and didn't realize until partway through the trip that I was supposed to take the train instead of the bus, but I figured out the system of labeling for routes, and used my city map to work around the problems. I believe the Italian way of life requires this kind of creativity and problem solving. I also think that the city intentionally screws around the transit system to keep the citizens mentally active, and to divert tourists into spending more money, as at a mall. After a short while in Italy you will be thrilled to pay $20 for a guided tour of anything.
I have not yet talked about the drivers here. I believe the bus driver from the hostel used to race Nascar. No matter how sharp the corner or how small the street, he is driving at the limits of the bus' capability. I say Nascar instead of the more European Formula 1 because of the way he sticks his head out the window when making tight left turns, in order to better feel the bus; the way he crosses behind passing bicycles by shaving as close as possible to their back tire, and by the tell-tale crack in the left side mirror. But as long as he's having fun, I'll enjoy the ride.

Immediately on stepping off the train into the center of Rome, I found the most wonderfully ridiculous pair of Aviator sunglasses. The seller opened at EU50, I countered with EU5, and I got them for EU8, but I'm pretty sure he won. I could have gotten them for EU5 if I'd been prepared. Oh well, it's EU3 lost to negotiating experience. I've also been very happy with how ridiculous they look. I've gotten my picture with a group of nuns in them, and I hope to get a group of Japanese soon.
Before you think I haven't actually seen any of Rome, I'll tell you that my little sister's itenerary has been great so far: I went to the Forum and started to wander through. Things are really old and broken there. Then I ran into a tour guide who was giving a free tour in English. It was amazing; until an official Italian tour guide interrupted, threatened to call the police, and broke our group up (You can see from my photo, though, that the police much prefer to talk on their cell phones or lean on their vehicles). I'm still not sure whether this was for real, or whether it was simply an act they put on together since our group had not yet grown large enough. I wandered around for a while more before running into the same guide giving the same tour, right where I had left off, but with a much larger group. I followed again, and this tour was never interrupted. After this tour, I saw him give another. Italy is a /very/ crooked place.
I was also very happy to see the Basilica where modern lawyering began with one lawyer who outdid all the other self-important orating lawyers by hiring the homeless to sit in the courtroom and cheer for his orations. And the temple of Saturn, which held the gold reserves of Rome under its footsteps.
  After the Forum, I followed by sister's itenerary to the Colosseum where I ran into another tour guide who took me (and the group) past the ridiculously long line and into the Colosseum for only EU10. This was well worth my time, and it was great to have a guide to explain all about how many (1M) people the Romans killed in the Colosseum, and the different ways (e.g. dressing a guy up as Icarus with wings, and dropping him from the roof). As I have just received a call from Ashley, I will have to take a break and tell you the rest soon.
In the mean while, see if you can find all the laser-targeting spots in this picture of ruins; I count 7 . . .