I am writing from an « internet place » in Rome, surrounded by youths checking their e-mails, while our clothes are being boiled into a strange soup by a mean machine back at our rented appartment. Blork and I spent 20 minutes trying to figure out the instruction manual for the supposedly highly efficient washer and dryer that came with the place we rented. The instructions were so convoluted that we ended up washing white, basic clothes, for fear of serious color blending and permanent damage. We started the machine and left to go visit St-Peter’s cathedral.
5:30pm seemed to be the perfect time of the day to be at the Vatican since there was no line at all and the place wasn’t crowded. I wanted to ask the pope some laundry advice (his stuff is always so white and clean) but since he’s not Italian he wasn’t at his balcony to hang his clothes so we decided to go to dinner. We went to a great pizza place (yes, enough pizza for now) and walked back home 3 hours later to find the washing machine still running. The water was so hot I could barely touch the machine. Oh oh…
Blork dove into the instruction manual again, swearing like a madman. See, he makes a living as a technical writer and this was a very lame manual and very lame instruction manuals make him very impatient. We stopped the machine without knowing if the clothes were rinsed or not and we started the drying cycle and then left to come to the Internet place. I’m expecting that our clothes will still be wet by the time we have to pack them tomorrow morning to leave for Venice. Oh well. I hear it’s a pretty damp city anyway.
I saw true beauty in the last 6 days, places so stunning you can’t believe you are looking at them. Yet I know that when I’ll think back about that trip, it’s the crazy little adventures I’ll remember the most. Like that stupid washing machine story. Like the way we entered a big post office today and could not for the life of us figure out how to get stamps for a postcard. We kept being sent from one counter to the other until we decided to use an automated stamp machine. Ha! How arrogant of us to think it would work!
Actually, it did work… for the first postcard. But by the time we felt confident enough to buy a second stamp, the machine took our money, gave us a receipt and refused to give us the stamp we had just purchased. We ended up asking a security guard for help: « We put money for the postcard, did everything right but no stamp came. Nothing! ». He was a friendly guy who barely spoke a word of English but finally understood our problem and pointed to the machine with a big smile on his face and said, triumphantly: « Ha! Money for nothing! Dire Straits! » Finally, he had to call two other people for help. They argued in Italian around the machine for a few minutes but they ended up telling us that this was a new and very stupid machine, took our postcards from us and promised to mail them.(Message à ma soeur: si mes neveux ne reçoivent pas leur carte, il faudra accuser la poste italienne…)
Another story I’ll remember for a long time is the way we got lost on the outskirts of Rome yesterday, trying to return the scooter we had rented (before the cut off time of 7pm). We kept going in circles and when I begged Ed to stop the scooter because I was convinced he was going in the wrong direction – Naples was not our ultimate destination after all – we got the map out and realized that we were lost at the corner of Via Marco Polo and Via Christopher Columbus! How appropriate! Just like us: great explorers, bad sense of direction.
When we finally found our way back towards the rental place in the city, we got stuck in a freak Sunday night traffic jam. Turns out there was a protest going on and the carabinieri had blocked the streets. We finally made it to the rental place and arrived at 6:59…
The scooter allowed us to see parts of Rome where tourists don’t hang out, grittier, more modern areas with regular people going about their business. Since this was my special day, being my birthday, after the scooter ride Blork treated me to a fancy, non-touristy restaurant which didn’t serve the usual tourist fare. We drank an amazing bottle of wine (Gaja) and I almost died of pleasure when I took the first bite of my appetizer: pecorino flan with a pear coulis. God. I wish I could give you a taste! We walked back home, got lost again (yeah, my fault this time) and arrived at the hotel happy and exhausted.
It was a great, memorable birthday! Thanks to all of you for the good wishes. It was nice to find all of your messages tonight.
I better go check on that laundry now…
You should have asked the pope’s wife. She is the one doing the laundry, at least she does the white.
It’s really fun to read both your blogs. I feel Iike I’m there with you… wait that sounds wierd. Anyways, keep having fun, I’ll keep reading…
This is a bit belated, but happy birthday!
Have a great time in Venice, apparently they have these canal things which are supposed to be worth a punt. You guys should check them out.
Bonne f�te en retard Martine! Prends toutes ces bonnes adresses en note pour mon voyage en Septembre.
Oh et j’ai oubli� de dire de bien en profiter aussi!
Gourmandise ? Luxure ? Orgueil ? Paresse ? Col�re ? Avarice ? Non.
Envie. Envie. Envie. P�ch� capital que je peux m’emp�cher de ressentir en lisant tes p�rip�ties de voyage.
…et joyeux anniversaire…
;-)
Ne t’en fais pas pour les cartes postales, c’est l’intention qui compte. Elles arriveront s�rement apr�s toi ! N’oublie pas de manger une succulente cr�me gla��e � ma sant�…parfum de caf�.
P.S. Mini va bien, mon Crassulat un peu moins !!!
So, you enjoyed the European way of laundering? Lucky of you! Isn’t it nice to do ONE wash in about 3 hours? And to dry it in the tiny dryer the washer becomes as well for about 2 more hours? And to find your clothes still damp at the end of the process? :-)
This is my fate since I’ve been in London. But the whole experience is so worth it! This is exactly the memorable part, as you said.
And thank you for the rich, generous, entertaining narration of your trip.
Le chaos est ce qui fait un peu le charme de l’Italie mais apr�s quelque temps peut venir � nous tomber sur les nerfs: c’est alors le temps de revenir, tu verras. J’apporte une exception � un commentaire pr�c�dent: � Venise, o� la gastronomie est excellente, il ne FAUT PAS manger le « foie � la v�nitienne » ( fegato alla veneziana) � moins d’�tre vraiment amateur. Ni le spaghettis au « noir de s�che ».
Le plafond de la Sistine est clich� mais impressionnant quand m�me , non?
Peut-�tre que c’�tait un lave-vaisselles apr�s tout !
Sounds like you’ve had a wonderful birthday (and so much deserved)!
Happy (belated) Birthday, Martine!
happy birthday!!