A Roman in the gloaman

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Brrr, it's chilly. I didn't expect that. I'm back into thermal longjohns, woolly hat and socks. But that's just at night. The rest of the time (daylight) it's pretty sunny, so I'll stop moaning for a bit. I have, at present, no plan, but I do have lots of maps and am putting off looking at them again by writing this and drinking coffee, to the strains of abominable pop music, in which the campsite specialises. I'm the only tent. Everyone else is either Italian or German in a campervan, or annoyingly American in a cabin. I cycled all around the centre of Rome, straight off the train from the airport, having been rejected by all further forms of public transport and, in the process, did most of my sightseeing there and then by accident. I did the other bits yesterday and I'm staggered by all the crowds following women holding car aerials with rags tied on their ends, lest (perish the thought) the little lambs get lost. Who needs a tour guide to the Colosseum anyway? We've all seen Gladiator. My impressions of Rome are that it's much more laid-back than I expected and also tremendously show-offish. Some of the architecture is so over-the-top. Lots of nuns knocking about, always good to see. The guide book (the new guide book, that is. I've already lost the old one, which was a whole week old) says that central and northern Italy are the places to be, but doesn't take into account the fact there's still snow on the mountains and that I'm the only person camping, so I guess I'll be heading south.

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