Rome

3 and a half years after Lisbon, and a lot of other trips in between, we visited Rome. We arrived at what seemed to us a mega fancy central hotel and were so excited for our stay. Of course, it wasn’t that simple. My heart sank as the hotel receptionist said, “I’m sorry but we have double booked you.”  I don’t know why I was surprised, our trips rarely go to plan- to quote my mother-in-law, “there’s always a drama!”

Subsequently, the hotel arranged for a taxi to take us to their “partner” hotel. After a short 30 minute motorway drive, away from the city, the driver pulled a sharp right turn up an unmade, unlit dirt track. 

Strangely, the hotel was not the luxury we had been excited about. 

 After being shown to a very basic, prison-grey room, we decided we needed a drink. The receptionist informed us that we could walk along the motorway for twenty-minutes and then we would find an off-licence, and that was that. So off we went with cars brushing our arms and screaming at us aggressively as they passed.  What a lovely start to our indulgent weekend in Rome. Of course, it gets worse. 

Heading back to the “hell hole”, as we were now lovingly referring to our new room, we were approached by three basically naked ladies who were having a fire in a petrol station (!!) at the end of the dirt track leading to the hotel. Weirdly, we decided not to join them and continued on our way. Now being out of the cab I noticed the scattered dead animals lining the remaining walk to the entrance. Deathly doom impended over me.  It was laugh or cry, and if I cried I wouldn’t have stopped so we laughed, and drank, and danced crazily around the room for the rest of the evening(after Ev returned to the shop to buy a corkscrew) and danced around the room for the rest of the evening.

Unsurprisingly we decided to get out of there first thing in the morning, but not before having to pay an extra charge for city tax. We booked an apartment on Airbnb, Trevi Fountain Suite, that was less than a minutes’ walk from the Trevi Fountain, a much nicer surrounding than possible explosions, constant traffic, and death.  The taxi from the deserted hotel was stupidly expensive but we were just happy to be away. Just an FYI the “partner” hotel was called Hotel Area, ironic right?

The apartment was lovely and we instantly felt happy again, ready to begin our “luxurious” weekend. With that in mind, we walked a few meters down the street, past the Trevi Fountain, to a quaint welcoming restaurant. We were drawn in by a 10 Euro lunch deal but in our true style forgot all about that by the time we had sat down and ordered an abundance of much more expensive food. I decided to treat myself to lobster, or so I had hoped to, and Ev went for a specialty pizza, because why not?  

 Shortly after ordering, whilst Ev was outside smoking, a tall, skinny, young waiter came over a mumbled something about 5, I smiled and nodded not wanting to be impolite and he disappeared again.  When the food arrived, I realised what 5 had meant. No lobster, just 5 very off-smelling and looking langoustines. The smell was unbearable, so I informed the waiter that I didn't want to eat it, only for him to bring it back to me in a carrier bag (literally he had scrapped the plate of food into a carrier bag). No luxury just yet then.

Trying not to laugh we turned down his offer, but momentarily he returned with the meal now in a slightly nicer bag. Again, we refused it, and slightly disappointed he walked away.

Lesson learnt: don’t order lobster at a place that also offers a 3 course lunch for 10 euros.

The next 48 hours consisted of visiting the Vatican City (in which we nearly missed our tour and had to be searched out of a pub by our designated guide). It was stunning, the smallest country in the world with so much interesting history. The museums were almost empty so we had a good chance to look at everything and talk freely with our guide. 100% must do in Rome.

We also visited the Colosseum where we finally struck luck. Again, there was hardly anyone insight and the sun shone beautifully, it was late January so we weren’t expecting that at all. It seems the perfect time to go tourist wise. We absorbed the beauty and listened intently to our basically private tour guide, revelling in the peace.

Clear skies and the empty colosseum

Casual...

We planned to end our trip with a nice meal, some wine, and an early night as we had a flight early the next morning. However, things don’t always go to plan. 

Just a few hours after we departed the apartment we were absolutely smashed, we had ended up drinking countless tequila shots with a new friend.  Somehow we returned to the apartment late that evening. Since then, I’ve found some hideous videos of us stumbling our way back, it’s a miracle we found our way without being robbed or passing out. 

The next thing I remember is the alarm going off and how any slight movement caused a piercing pain in my head.

At this point, I had comfortably accepted that we were going to miss the flight so closed my eyes again. Ev, rightly so, had different ideas and dragged me from the pit. We raced across miles and miles of cobbled streets to the central station. We had bought bus tickets online but couldn’t work out how to print them or where to even find that bus so joined a queue for another. Our last 16 euros clutched in my hand, thankfully the bus tickets were 5 euros each, so some relaxation eased into the whirlwind start of the day. The bus wasn’t due for a while so Ev went to get coffees, whilst I waited in line.

By the time he returned I was just being served, the ticket seller asked for 12 euros. I looked to Ev who had taken the cash to get his coffee. He looked panicked, a rarity, it’s usually me flapping. He explained that he only had 10 left and when I asked why he pulled the worst looking pastry I’ve ever seen from his pocket. Frantically I searched my bag for change and managed to pull together 1.70. The seller and the lengthy queue behind us glared. It was our fault of course, but someone could have been forgiving of 30 cents surely.

Without a choice, we took ourselves out of the line. Ev bit into his hideous snack and exclaimed at how delicious it was. If looks could kill he would have keeled over instantly. At that point he made me love him more, and dissolved the stress, as a homeless woman asked him for the snack he was eating and without hesitation, he handed it over. The snack that had cost us our way to the airport, leaving us stranded. But kindness goes a long way and should never be looked over. However, time was going on and we were late and stuck.

Eventually, Ev looked at me and said, “can’t you just take from your savings?” causing hideous flashbacks of the previous night.

NOTE: we called them savings but it was just my money intended for outgoings, e.g. phone bill, rent, food, that was kept in a separate account as a way of protecting it from our frivolous selves.

Agreeing cautiously, I checked the account and of course! It's empty, bar £30 which I instantly withdrew. After such a hideous morning and the hangover consuming us we decided a taxi would be better than a crowded bus. Half an hour later we arrived at the airport with just enough spare euros for some soup on the plane.

A weekend well spent.