Last night we had noticed that a snap on Lana’s new jacket had pulled out, so we needed to run by the store to see what they could do about it.  Our train ticket was for 11:53, and Lana wanted to shop a bit…so we had a full morning.  We were up around 7, got to the leather store around 9:30, and they had her fixed up in about 10 minutes.  We were going to hit the market straight away, then come back to the hotel to pick up the bags and run to the station.  Then Lana had an idea...just check out now, and carry our bags thru the market, which was on the way to the station.  It was about a mile total distance, and as long as we kept a tight grip on our bags (the market is a known hangout for pickpockets and purse snatchers), we should be OK.  I should note that we could NOT have done this had we not been traveling light.  It worked out fine.  Lana got her shopping done (small stuff, mainly Murano glass wine bottle stoppers and necklaces), and we got to the station in plenty of time.

A shirt for Nephew Drew, the Ferrari fanatic.

 

 As we were walking through the market, it quickly became obvious that some of the vendors were not legal.  Guys like these had little cardboard displays set up, or would just be walking around with belts and watches in their hands, selling.  Whenever the cops approached, they folded up their displays and scattered like rats.  One of the guys selling sunglasses from a cardboard display had an interested customer just as he spotted the police.  He he was so intent on getting away that he folded his customers hand up in the display, and practically drug the guy down the street, all the time complaining "Polizia!  Polizia!"  He finally broke free from the guy, ran past us, and disappeared down an alley.  At that precise moment, one of the legal vendors that had been watching the whole scene cried out, in perfect English, "Run, Forrest, run!"

 

The day was gray and cold, and the forecast was for rain in Rome.  We were seated in the back of our coach by the doors, beside each other but with the aisle between us.  That was fine, as we both had plenty of room and a good view. 

 

 

Ahead of us was a young mother with two loud, bratty little boys.  She alternated between scolding them and ignoring them, burying herself in her cell phone and MP3 player.  The kids got absorbed in some schoolwork as the trip progressed, and quieted down.

 

There was a light rain falling as we departed the train, but not heavy enough to keep us from walking to the hotel.  It was about a 15 minute stroll through wet streets buzzing with traffic.  Our hotel was on the third level on a nondescript building with an old fashioned elevator, the kind with manual doors and a semi-open shaft.  I don’t think I had ever ridden one of those before.  The room was Spartan, with a tiny bath, but clean and fairly comfortable.  It would do for the next few days.

 

 

 It was now about 3, what to do?  First order of business was some food, and Lana wanted to see Trevi Fountain again…maybe it would not be so crowded on this cold, gray day.  We found a pizza-by-the-slice place, then walked to the Fountain…packed, as usual.  The weather wasn’t holding anyone off.  From there we went to the Spanish Steps, and walked by a restaurant that we had heard about.  Friends from Panama City were flying in tomorrow, and we were hoping to have dinner with them here tomorrow night.  We wandered back to the hotel via the Spanish Steps, then took a 2 hour nap. 

 

 

Dinner was at a Rick Steves recommended restaurant a few blocks away.  Lana had lamb (she looooooves lamb), and I had tuna, both very good.  A funny Irish couple sat next to us, and we talked and laughed and drank until the staff ran us out.  What's that cold draft on my back?  Oh, it's the waiter holding the door open and motioning for me to leave.  Must be quitting time. 

 

 

 

In bed around midnight.

 

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