Rome Trip - Days 1+2

October 12^th, 2011 – The Flight

My journey to the city of love (Rome) began at the yawn-worthy hour of 8 a.m. A hard bed combined with stress resulted in maybe five hours of sleep, which bodes really well for the upcoming journey. Anyway, I was out the door around 9:30, hopped the subway to Incheon airport, and was through security/immigration by 11:30. This gave me plenty of time to catch my 12:50 flight, putting lie to my mother's claim that you will miss your flight if you arrive 2 hours early instead of 3.

I flew on Russia's premier airline, the humorously named “Aero Flot”. Now, maybe I just got the runt of the litter, but this plane was old school. We're talking 2-3-2 seating, one level, no individual TVs, and movie screens so small, fuzzy, and poorly place that I didn't even bother trying to watch them. Then again, it was ridiculously cheap, so I guess that's why the plane sucked. On the plus side, the food was good, and as of the time I'm writing this, we have not yet crashed. And yes, I'm aware that I just jinxed myself. OMG. As I wrote that sentence, we hit a pocket of turbulence. It's a sign! We're all going to die! Nooooooooooooooooooes.

Well, long story short, I survived. Cool thing about the Seoul to Moscow flight – my seatmate was a chatty Korean gentleman named Kal Ji Hyung. He told me about his time in the army – apparently he was stationed on an island only 1 km south of the North Korea border! He said that they had a NK refugee swim to their island during his time there, but that they didn't notice him until the guy was already ashore. The soldiers' punishment? Sleep deprivation for five days, complete with hearty whacks across the face if they started to drift off. He was a very cool guy, and we exchanged Facebook info, so hopefully we will keep in touch.

Landing in Moscow was a pain, as it was foggy and raining. Even a jaded traveller like myself was a bit worried, but it all turned out alright. Said goodbye to Kal Ji Hyung, got on my plane to Rome, drifted in and out of sleep the whole way there, and landed without incident.

Customs was a joke. I printed off all these details about my cruise and flight to prove that I really am leaving the country, expecting this massive interrogation about my comings and goings... and all the guy does is glance at my passport and then wave me through. I guess Italy doesn't see a whole lot of terrorist activity, especially coming through South Korea.

I've had several “I'm not in Korea anymore” moments since my departure this morning. First, it's totally unnerving to be surrounded by white people again, and I actually felt myself gravitating towards the Korean passengers, as if I were their long-lost cousin or something. It's a silly thing to feel, for sure, but this is why I'm detouring through Europe before coming home – I've already tried to speak Korean to several Italian people, just from having used it for so long, and I need to get out of the habit ASAP!

Second... shoot, I can't remember the second. Oh yes. I got so used to the ludicrously cheap train / bus / everything tickets in Korea that when the Roman train station lady said 14 euros for a train ticket (that's like $20), I actually did a double take and asked her to repeat the price. I know that stuff in Korea is cheap, but I guess I forgot how stupidly overpriced public transportation actually is in... well, everywhere that isn't Korea, apparently.

I am now sitting on the aforementioned train, wheeling my way towards Termini aka Rome's main train station. From there, assuming my taxi driver is competent, I shall proceed to my hostel, “Coliseum Rooms”, unwind with some Bleach (the show, not the cleaning product), and then attempt to sleep off my inevitable jet lag. To victory!

October 13^th 2011

I awoke at the cruel and unusual time of 7:30 am, but seeing as I couldn't fall back asleep, I made the most of things by getting ready for my day almost immediately. Whoa. I know. The hostel is very nice, really open and modern, and the bed was super comfortable. My shower, however, was less delightful, as the hot water cut out halfway through the cleansing process. I wonder what that's about. I suspect gremlins.

Anyway, I handed over my euros to the hotel owner, who gave me a map of Rome and highlighted the various places that I should check out. I've forgotten all my Italian, so I felt very silly when he spoke various words to me in Italian, but they're slowly coming back – prego, gratzie, caldo, etc. Caldo means “hot”, by the way, which I discovered when the barkeep asked if I wanted latte caldo, and I ended up with a glass of warm milk. Don't get me wrong, it was really good, just not what I was expecting.

Since my arch nemesis is Planning, that saucy vixen, I walked out the door, pulled out my map, chose a direction, and just walked. My first stop ended up being Piazza Vittorio Emanuelle II, not to be confused with the Vittorio Emanuelle monument. It was nice. There were palm trees, and the ruins of an old church, and dogs, and the Porta Magica, which was apparently the secret gateway representing the mysteries of transmuting lead to gold in alchemy. Or something to that effect.

I headed in the direction of the Santa Maria Maggiore basilica, but got sidetracked by two churches off the beaten path. Since I've done all the major tourist attractions in Rome several times over, my goal whilst waiting for mother's arrival is to only do stuff I haven't seen yet. It's going well so far!

Anyway, the Basilica Santa Maria Maggiore is really stunning, exterior and interior. It's got this massive rectangular ceiling done all in golden flowers, and a gorgeous, four-columned gilded whatchamacallit – the big gazebo thing they always have in churches. Like the massive one by Bernini in St. Peter's basilica, where he got all the bronze to make it from melting down old Greek statues. You know what I'm talking about! Yes, so, this basilica was very picturesque, and very gold. I approve.

After this, I continued north towards Piazza della Republica, except my sense of direction is flawed, so I ended up at Piazza del Viminale instead. I ended up finding the correct piazza after some backtracking, and revisited Santa Maria degli Angeli. That would be the church with the meridian line running through the center, and the really cool metal doors that look like they've half-swallowed up people.

I'd forgotten how cool multicultural cities are. In Seoul, you're pretty much guaranteed to hear only Korea, maybe with a smattering of Japanese, Chinese, and English thrown in. In Rome, though... pretty much every language you can think of, plus a few more just for style. It's kind of neat to be a minority, although that won't be the case in a few measly weeks, so I'll enjoy it while I can.

I sat down for lunch around 1:30, and I've rediscovered the annoyance of tipping. As I've probably mentioned, there's no tipping in Korea. As in, if you try to give them a tip, they just hand it right back to you. But I'm not in Korea anymore, and I'd forgotten how frustrating it is to order a ten euro meal, then have to tack on an extra two euros for the tip. I'm sure the waiters appreciate the tips, but it's still annoying.

Lunch was delicious. I had Salmone Pennette, and they gave it to me in the skillet, which I thought was hilarious. I also came very close to burning myself, although, really, that was to be expected.

Following lunch, I made my way over to the Museo Nazionale di Roma. I couldn't remember if I'd been there before, so in I went! There were various statues and mosaics, as Roman museums are wont to have, but two things stood out for me. The first was a map of the ancient world which A) inspired me to hold an Asterix and Obelix party when I get home, and B) made me wonder where the Mediterranean got its name from. Because in the past the Romans called it Mare Internum, which sounds a lot like Mediterranean to me. I suspect that the pronunciation got botched so frequently that the name just morphed into Mediterranean. Also, that word is freaking impossible to spell. Point of reference: two Rs, one N.

I also really liked the wall paintings from the Villas Farnesina and Livia. Farnesina had a bunch of really fantastic second style paintings – the ones with the painted columns and pictures, very 3D and realistic looking. And they had Livia's triclinium – aka the famous garden room! For those of you who didn't take a course on Roman wall painting, these are very famous wall paintings, hence my excitement.

After the museum, hilarity struck. I rediscovered the pretty little garden that Emily, Sean and I found last time we were in Rome, and found a lovely marble bench to relax on. Wanting to sit cross-legged, I elected to remove my shoes so as not to dirty the bench. But then the garden police showed up and ordered me to put my shoes back on! Scandal. I really wanted to laugh, but I restrained myself. I think that making sure people keep their shoes on would be a pretty sweet job.

I wandered north, seeking the Porta Pia, which shows up as a massive gate on my map. It ended up being not very impressive, although I did get to see some army soldiers guarding the gates to what was potentially the British embassy. So that was cool. I then wandered down the Via XX Septembre, and turned up Via Leonida Bissolatti to see a big, nameless building on my map. It, like Porta Pia, wasn't all that great, but I did find a lovely little over-priced cafe nearby which I decided to honour with my patronage.

It was only 5:30 at that point, so I started off with a steaming cup of thick, rich, delicious hot chocolate – or cioccolatte caldo, in Italian (although spelled very, very wrong). I sipped it while reading a book I got in Itaewon called The Immortal Prince. I know, sweet name, right? The book itself is alright. It's got a great premise, but the writing slips up sometimes, using really weird turns of phrase that don't fit with the characters or setting. Regardless, it's certainly better than sitting by myself twiddling my thumbs.

I also got a Greek salad – good god is feta cheese delicious – and after that I went down to the Fontana del Tritone. The fountain wasn't the most impressive thing I've seen, but it looked really good backlit by the street lights. Then I went down into the Metro, helped a German gentleman figure out the ticket machine, got help from an Italian gentleman in using my own ticket at the metro turnstiles, boarded an insanely crowded subway, and successfully traversed the city back to Manzoni station. From there I did some detective work and located my hostel, at which I point I went inside, pulled on my pyjamas, and started writing my day's adventures.

I've discovered that although travelling solo can be pretty fun – you get to do literally whatever you want, when you want, how you want – it's also quite lonely. You don't have that extra person as a buffer, in case you need help figuring out something, or just want moral support in a complex situation. Or even just someone to laugh with after you, say, get told off by the garden cops for taking off your shoes. I'm therefore very excited for mother to arrive, although I will certainly enjoy my alone time while I've got it.