Waiting on a Plane

My father took me to Greece after high school. He's dead now (not Greece. That's still around {and not high school. That's still there <although it HAS moved to a new location>}. I meant my dad). 
We went there because I've always loved classical civilization. Since then, the place I've most wanted to go to was Rome. When I went to Belize earlier this year, it was because of a failed plan to go to England, which was because of a failed plan to sail to Italy. 
Image result for plane

So this is the voyage I've most wanted to take. Since time began. The things I want to see are mostly fifteen hundred years old - and food. 
Like the couple of other trips I've taken, I haven't prepped much in advance. I've got guide books, and I know some things I want to see, but I don't have particular plans, which may possibly prove to bite me in the ass. Time (and my blog) may tell. 
As I board the plane, sleepy and nervous, I expect to read up as to what, other than the colosseum, there is to see is the capital of classical civilization. I really hope there's something. 
I really hope I haven't made some horrible mistake. 
It'll be warmer in Italy. I know that much...

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Well, Here We Go Again

Image
Opportunity's window was opened just right.  I'd lost my job a couple months before. It hadn't been much, and as it turns out, while the job had tethered me to the world of responsibility, it had also been holding me back.  "I'm just a baby-sitter," I said.  "Oh, you're a manny." "Nah. I'm not live-in. I don't prepare meals. I'm just a baby sitter. More a chauffeur, but without a  suit." When that gig dried up, and I started looking for some renewed purpose in life. I sporadically applied to training programs through the Fall, and got a good lead on one with a second interview scheduled in mid-December.  And nothing to do before.  I'm optimistic about this program. I may have a lot going on after this interview, with the training program starting in the new year, and after that, job placement getting me that sweet sweet four figure salary sometime afterward.  So I had to celebrate what little time I had left at my dispo...
Read more

Late for a Very Important Date

Image
As I was looking for egress from the nation of Vatican I heard a woman say in distinct Elder American, "Is this the way out?" At first it sounded ironic, arch, but in a second I realized this older woman to my side was genuinely looking for an exit.  "I'm going out this way," I said, "I hope it lets me out. Shall we travel together?" She was seventy five, from Florida, by way of Chicago, and, a day into her overseas trip, she hated it.  "I've fallen twice, the airline was rude, I couldn't sleep, and all the steps!" I mentioned climbing up St. Peter's basilica, but she'd probably taken the elevator, and kept on keeping on. Our pace was leisurely.  Her daughter, probably my age, eventually joined us, and so did a caller for one of those hop-on, hop-off bus services.  I was shocked that Mrs. Negativity seemed interested, but then again, she was pretty resistant to walking.  "It costs thirty nine euros for se...
Read more

In Which Our Hero Learns to Read a Map

Image
So I got a late start. After ten. As I lazed about in bed, I idly wondered when my checkout might be. I'd decided, after being ambivalent about my hotel during my last trip, to be more flexible about accommodations this time around, so I'd only booked a room for two nights. Turns out checkout was ten thirty, so I stopped lazing and rushed out of the room and into my shower. I packed up everything. I worried I would get charged another night for that slip up, but this ain't New York. "Is there a service where My bags could be stored for a time?" I asked the concierge, and she took my things to the back locker.  My stuff was safe, so I jogged out of there and headed to the Colosseum.  It took me a few minutes to get lost. I found it in the dark the other day;  why couldn't I find it in the morning sun? I ended up seeing lots of worthwhile things. Big streets, small streets, cobblestones, mopeds the size of motorbikes...  Roma's a crazy town. Even th...
Read more