[singlepic id=27 w=450 h=450 float=center]AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! WHY? What kind of a terrible person was I in a past life to deserve this “cruel punishment”? Right when I needed it most, it decided to leave me and there was nothing I could do about it.
Yes, I’m talking about my stupid (excuse my language), “high quality”, damn (excuse my language) suitcase. I’m supposed to take this useless hunk of antique wood onto a water bus, then to the train, followed by a taxi ride and it decided that this was the perfect time to break off its lock. I sat on it, I jumped on it, I yelled at it, but it was finished. I taped it closed with a roll of duct tape (no, it didn’t look at all suspicious bringing that on the train) and decided I wanted a divorce. The only problem was that we didn’t get a prenuptial agreement (I threw away the receipt).
Well, since we’re such good friends, I guess I can tell you the truth. The main reason why I want a divorce is because I had an affair and fell in love with something else. To me, Venice was like a mistress (I’m not sure what the male equivalent of mistress is). I am married to America and I met Venice, only a few days ago, when I was on vacation and we had a lot of fun together. It was forbidden for me to love Venice, but I still did. I was nauseous and tingly on the inside. I was either in love….or I had chicken pox.
We stopped by a small café by the dock to grab some breakfast and I asked if I could take a walk before we left. I had never met anyone like Venice before. It was different from every other place in the world (and I’ve traveled to A LOT of places), it was beautiful, and it was full of life and intelligent with history. A philosopher once said that we are most ourselves in a place where nobody knows us and that’s exactly what Venice brought out in me. Before we left, I bought a newspaper at the stand next to our apartment, Il Gazzettino, and I told myself that when I come back, I will be able to read this entire newspaper (that sounds kind of hard, maybe I’ll just have someone translate it for me).
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We arrived in Rome in the afternoon and hailed a taxi to take us to our apartment. Our apartment in Rome was significantly smaller than the one in Venice, having only one bedroom, but don’t worry, the pisuar was still intact (to at least be a little helpful, we booked our apartment on ItaliaRents.com). Our apartment was located right next to the Vatican, which is a tiny country within a country and has been the residence of the popes since 1377.
When we entered St. Peter’s Square, I ended up hurting my jaw as it hit the pavement. No matter how many books about the Vatican City that I have read (ok, you caught me, I only skimmed through them), I have yet to find any adjectives that can properly describe or do justice to the majestic beauty and highly detailed perfection that is the St. Peter’s Square.
The St. Peter’s Basilica is such a huge and overpowering structure that it looks almost as if Michelangelo had created it himself. Which, of course, he did, along with the help of Raphael and Antonio da Sangallo, who added two great open semicircular wings to act as the outstretched arms of the church, accepting all of mankind in one embrace (sure). It was impossible to pull your eyes away because there was so much that they had to process that they were overwhelmed (the way I am when it comes to chemistry).
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There is a popular saying that “when in Rome, does as the Romans do.” Keeping in tune with this quote, we decided to try the colorful ice cream that everyone seemed to be walking around with. There is such a simple way to distinguish the Romans from the tourists, and I don’t just mean by clothes. The tourists walk around with a large waffle cone stuffed with two extra-large scoops of ice cream while the Romans walk around with a tiny cup, with a scoop half the size of an egg. I did try to distinguish myself from the tourists by ordering a tiny cup like the rest of the locals (even if I did order 15 of them).
We sat in the center of St. Peter’s Square and watched the sun disappear behind the dominating dome that topped the basilica. As the last ray of the sun spanned across the gallant square, we were washing our faces in the holy water, which is when it hit me……………. Do you remember that movie (or did any of you actually read the book?) that Julia Roberts (what a beautiful first name) starred in, Eat, Pray, Love?
So, I Ate (more like over ate), I Prayed, and now the only thing left for me was………… (Do you have any ideas? Well, use your imaginations and I’ll talk to you tomorrow)!
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