Sybilla Oritur

One cannot get a chai latte in Terminal 3 of JFK – it may, in fact, be the largest distance one can travel in New York without crossing a Starbucks (or a Subway as I think of it). The previous time I was there was the middle of a blizzard and the terminals were deserted – ours had been the only flight of ten headed to NY that morning from Montreal which was permitted to take-off. This time, I was a little overwhelmed by the outdoor walking and shuttles between terminals – but I met an army medic on 10 days of leaving going back to Minneapolis to get married. During a twelve month tour in Iraq he treated 56 wounded.

Like all airports, Rome’s convinces you that you are lost when you are not. However, like Amsterdam’s, it is hooked up to the city’s main railways via an Express Train (the Leonardo Express) which brings you within a five minute walk of my hostel, the Alessandro Downtown Hostel, for 11 euros. I had been convinced that my luggage did not make it on the plane: We had to wait two hours to get someone who didn’t make our over-sold plane’s luggage out of the cargohold and as my boarding pass wouldn’t scan, I was convinced it was me. However, two and a half hours late with me in a middle seat we set off across the pond.

I didn’t really sleep very much on the plane despite two sleeping pills and a chugged glass of wine. After finding the hostel bed clean and inviting, I couldn’t help but partake in a siesta for two hours. Yes, I know – siestas are supposed to be short. At four-thirty I finally dragged myself into the shower, set off to the Termini train station in a futile search for an internet stick, and then used a map to navigate down to the old Jewish ghetto.

Rome’s streets do not map well. They aren’t really very straight and change names at just about every intersection. I got “lost” many times, but luckily there are lots of landmarks to help a poor tourist out. At one point I turned down an alley and was confronted with a view of the Colosseum – which was in the opposite direction I wanted to go (at that moment of course, I walked along the back of the Colosseum on the way home and intend to trek off to actual visit the site this morning). I finally arrived at my destination: the tortoise fountain. Then I meandered through the streets of restaurants selling kosher food (a little dismayed that the restaurant Frommer’s had recommended for a slice of pizza was no longer in business), walked by the old synagogue and stopped to enjoy the sunset over the Tiber.

I continued my walk following the river and enjoyed the view of the Temple of Venus surrounded by flowering bushes. I took a detour to the Mouth of Truth that was unfortunately closed for the evening and behind solid metal gates and, thus, not available for photographing. I have to admit that although its “kitchness” sort of frightens me, I am enthralled by this old sewer plate – likely because of its inclusion in Audrey Hepburn’s Roman Holiday.

At this point I had been on Roman cobblestones (albeit their impressiveness) for over three hours and I had forgotten how much havoc they can wreak on a girl’s poor feet. Yes Mom, I am wearing my knee brace and it is helping a lot. However, my feet are covered in pressure blisters. LOL. I couldn’t resist a little self-pity as I detoured to visit the Domus Aurea – unfortunately Nero’s Golden House (which figures prominently in my dissertation) is closed for repairs, but the gardens are… intimidating? Nero truly was a megalomaniac.

I made it back to my hostel by 10pm where a very loud card game between my Scandinavian dorm-mates was going on. I thought perhaps I might not get any sleep at all, but at midnight half of them when out on the town and the other half hit the hay. I can’t really complain about the noise if they self-regulate. This morning I did my best to get out of the room and come down for an early breakfast without waking them.

The gentleman opposite me in the breakfast room has just told me about an indoor market about five blocks from here and I hope I will be able to pick up some fruit. Last night I couldn’t be bothered even stopping for a bottle of iced tea let alone a meal and munched on rice crackers brought from home as I watched two episodes of The Wire. I will be better today – I promise.