Just Like Home

Despite having gotten only six hours of sleep, Harold got himself out of bed at 8:30, had a quick breakfast, showered, dressed and called a taxi a little before 9 am to get in an hour at the Capitoline Galleries before church.  And he's glad he did.  Not only did he get to see two more Caravaggios (an almost uncomfortably erotic St. John the Baptist and Gypsy Fortune-teller), he saw some spectacular ancient statuary (including the original larger-than-life bronze of Marcus Aurelius that once stood in the center of the Campidoglio).  But the highlight of the visit turned out to be a surprisingly large Fra Angelico exhibition, which was almost unbearably exquisite.  Imagine the most beautiful, ethereal church music you've ever heard, sung by a perfect voice.  That's what this show was like.

Taxi to St. Paul Within the Walls, the American Episcopal church in Rome to meet Louise, Annie and Daniel.  Walk through the door and it's like being back home -- English spoken by everyone, same prayer book and hymnal as used in the U.S.  It was almost unnerving.  I even thought the priest sounded he was from Brooklyn; it turns out that he's from Rhode Island, which he joked was the Brooklyn of New England.   It also turned out that my hopes for a church coffee hour featuring espresso, capuccino or latte was shattered; they had an aluminum urn of weak U.S. brew!

Left church to find it was pouring, scooted to a recommended trattoria right around the corner from church for a nice lunch, then subway back home.  Annie and Harold hit Coin, the chic little department store around the corner, while Louise went to pick up the laundry she had brought out before church.  Annie got most of a new wardrobe:  skirt, pants, several tops and a fun sweater.  Harold got to pay.  Then we all met at home for a little rest-up.

At 4 Harold, Louise and Annie left for the Borghese Galleries.  Daniel elected to stay home.  Harold enjoyed his second visit almost as much as the first -- more at times as he got to see Annie's reaction to the phenomenal Bernini sculptures.  All of us dragging a little as we left the gallery, but the weather had cleared and we had a lovely half-hour stroll down Via Veneto to the subway, picked up the making of dinner at the supermarket and spent the evening in.  We're working our way through the salumeria section of the supermarket -- we highly recommend not only the salami cacciatore but the divolino (hot) and the cinghiale (wild boar).

Everyone's remarking how much at home we feel.  Not only are we 100% settled into "our" apartment, we've taken out the garbage (sorted three ways), taking clothes to the laundromat, mastered the subway, found out how to order a taxi to the door and make dinner at home three nights in a row.  As Louise says, the only hard thing about being in Rome at this point is realizing we're going to have to leave all too soon.

9:47 train tomorrow morning for Florence.   Our bags are packed and we're ready to go.  Two nights in Florence, and we're back in Rome.  At this point the day-trip to Pompeii is up in the air.  If Daniel (for whom the trip was planned) shows a little more real interest than he has so far, we're going.  If not, we all get an additional day in Rome.