Flying Back to Rome to Sail Back to Barcelona

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We awoke early, our bags had already been taken, left in the hall last night to be taken ashore by the porters. We still had our carry-ons and they too were packed. Clothes for today had been set aside. The Cruise Director had made no announcement warning people to be sure and not pack “all” of your clothes, as some previous passengers have indeed woken up to discover that they literally had nothing to wear ashore! The Lido was dead when it opened at 6 am; despite, some people having very early departures. We could sit anywhere we wanted to! I chose the Eggs Benedict, hey, I’m on an egg-streak, why stop now! Sharon had a small amount of French toast and some potatoes the way that she likes them… just potatoes. They must have run out of Sweet Potatoes after that soup the other night, because we haven’t seen them at breakfast since.



We stuffed the last of our dirty clothes and various “stuff” into our carry-ons and made our way to the bar on Deck 2. It was nearing our departure time of 7:45 AM so we found some seats in a bar near mid-ship. Starting with 7:30 AM departures, you need to wait until they call your color coded group to disembark. Prior to that time, earlier departures leave on their own. Our Brown-1 group headed for the Barcelona Airport was called and we headed to the terminal to be reunited with our luggage. In the parking lot, the diverted us from the Brown-1 bus to an earlier Lime-1 bus headed to Terminal 1 (I guess we now know what the 1 in Brown-1 stood for). It was a twenty minute ride to the airport, and we saw several of our former Trivia Team companions, partners and competitor on the same bus (who also had gone to see the Pope with us). One of these had won the Pub Trivia the night before where some great prizes had been given out (bracelets and watches). We may have to check that out if it doesn’t interfere with dinner or the show. They claimed they got all of the Pub Trivia answers right because Joel had used all of the questions Dave used during the previous days in his Team Trivia!



We got to the Barcelona Airport where Sharon kept thinking that we were on Air Italia, but our online reservation was saying Iberia Air operated by Vueling. We looked all over and finally found where to check our bags and then had to make our way through security. Once we’d used our passports to get the boarding passes and check the luggage, nobody else asked to see them. They didn’t make us take our shoes off to go through security (and there was no TSA-pre-check line. Our boarding indicated only that the Gate was ABC which we surmised with either Terminal-A, Terminal-B or Terminal-C. Of course that’s the point after security trying to figure out where to go. A and B are in one direction and C in another. Sharon supposed it was “A or B” since that’s where all of the Vueling flights seemed to be; but, ours was too late in the morning to be on the screen yet. When it did show it indicated Terminal A but no gate assignment yet. Those seemed to be assigned 60 to 90 minutes before the flights. This was beginning to really annoy Sharon… “Why can’t they just do their jobs, make all the gate assignments, and tell us what they are: This is stupid!” Now it wasn’t quite an Istanbul meltdown moment. We found some seats and sat down. I got us a Coke, some water and the best chocolate croissant (big, super-flakey and plenty of dark chocolate filling). Our gate assignment did come up about 50 minutes before our flight and was a very close gate but hard to find since the number didn’t show on the direction signs.



It was a quick flight, and a full flight. They made us check our largest carry-on bags when we boarded and Sharon wasn’t happy about removing five electronic items from her bag and having to carry them on the plane. The Airbus-320 seated close to 200 people and was packed. Talk about leg-room, there was none! I mean NONE. This single aisle plane had three seats on either side, and as I’d suspected massive overhead storage which would have easily held our bags. We had the aisle and middle seats, and when Sharon chatted with the man at the window seat she found out that he was from Palestine. He too was on vacation. The flight across the water separating Italy from Spain took just 80 minutes; while the cruise from Rome to Barcelona had taken 4 days with three intermediary planned port calls (we missed one of those).



The stewardess did confirm our carryons should be in baggage claim which meant we had to carry Sharon’s 5 small bags along with the computer and backpack all the way there which was quite a distance from the gate. I think we walked thru several terminals before finally getting to the exit. We were a bit concerned when our big bags showed up first, and I was relieved, and signaled Sharon that I’d spotted one of the carry-ons, and that it was mine. Big smile from me (It’s the one with all my undershirts in it) but Sharon had that still worried look on her face. But hers showed up a few bags after mine. We found the meeting place in the airport where all of the limo drivers gather to collect their customers. It’s in a room just beyond the baggage claim an in the middle of the room there is a large white monolith with “MEETING PLACE” written on it in black letters. We had to look a bit; but, did soon find someone caring a card with “S G…” written on it… I had to double-take and realize, oh, that’s us.



Although when Sharon booked our tours with this company with English speaking guides, they let her know that we may not have an English speaking driver. Our driver did in fact speak very good but heavily accented English. He sighed when he saw the Rome skyline driving in from the airport, about how this is not “His Roma”. All these sky-scrapahs. Glass building. This is not my Roma. He did seem to know a lot about his Roma. He pointed out some of the old wall of Rome, part of the original 14-miles of Roman fortifications. He also pointed to an interior archway, part of what he called the Serbian wall. Now something in my translation of what I heard him say and what he did say may have gotten jumbled here, but I didn’t press him to clarify the point. Sharon noted that he certainly knew a lot about Rome. “Ah,” he said. “I grew up in Rome… but I am not a Roman! To be Roman, they say, you must be seven generations in Rome.” The “they” he’s referring to is his employer, and until they consider you Roman, they don’t consider you qualified to be a tour guide. Sharon had previously found out that to be a Tour Guide in Rome and take people into places like the museums or Vatican you practically need a degree in Roman history, and the position is licensed by the city to permit them to do guided tours.



We got dropped off at our hotel near the Colosseum. A couple of the hotel workers were bemused when they saw us struggling with our two large suitcases, two carry-on suitcases my backpack and Sharon’s computer bag off the tiny elevator and through the narrow hotel halls. When we got to our room we realized what was so funny to them. Looking for our room I looked at the door of the first room, but couldn’t find a number anywhere. I concluded, maybe that wasn’t a room but a service closet. I went to the next potential room door, and same thing. This time I looked long and hard, and then it hit me, and it really was funny. Now I thought that I’d have some fun with Sharon. I asked her to look at the room that I’d just passed and tell me what the number is again. “I don’t see a number.” I told her it was there, and I could see her looking hard (without her glasses) where you would expect the room number to be. I said, “Not there, down in the lower right corner of the door.” She looked there, and again, at first could see the twenty-four inch tall stylized font showing the number but looking more like an artistic design on the door. We made our way to the room, opened the door, and there it was, our postage sized stamp of a room that made our cabin on the Nieuw Amsterdam look like a palacial mansion. The room itself had room for a full maybe queen-sized bed, and room for a skinny Italian to walk around the bed… fat Americans not so much! You enter the shower from my side of the bed. And the washroom and bathroom (which had room for a bidet) is where we put my big suitcase. We found a tall narrow closet to hold Sharon’s big suitcase. And we found nooks and corners for the rest of what we brought. Sharon posted a picture of our room on her facebook page and got a note from Jaymie that it looks cozy. It is that!



We walked to an ancient church nearby that our Driver said was his favorite in Rome, and were conned by a beggar who appeared to be asking for church donations at the door. Just inside there is a sign indicating no pan-handling, that the entrance is free. There was also no photography inside the church, which was quite beautiful and old. We went through to an interior courtyard and took some pictures there, and a couple may have zoomed in a bit to capture some of what was through the open door to the courtyard. I wonder how that happened?



We decided to wait until tomorrow to do the walk to the Colosseum. We arranged with the front desk of the hotel, who apparently also serves as concierge, to get reservations for a local restaurant Isador, just around the corner from our hotel at 7:30 PM. He said they open at 7 PM but really don’t start serving until 7:30! Sharon was starving and didn’t feel she could wait that long to eat, so we went to a local market across the street that she’d spotted. We got a bag of potato chips there, and we both got some gelato next door. Sharon got a very good chocolate-coffee mixture, one scoop in a cup. I got a cone with pistachio and dark chocolate.



Sharon was happy to see Grilled Chicken on the menu, and she could get a side helping of roasted potatoes. I got an antipasti dish (for two) and forced Sharon to try the melon (She was afraid that it looked too tough for her to chew and I assured her it was not). She complained that it tasted like melon, and I said that is probably because it is melon. I ate the mixed greens, buffalo milk mozzarella, melon and selected meats (salami and prosciutto and cured ham). I ordered the gnocchi with Gorgonzola and mushrooms. It was the best and lightest gnocchi that I’d ever had and the Gorgonzola wasn’t overpowering as I’d feared, but was blended expertly in a proportion that superbly enhanced this dish. I had a large bottle of bubbly water with my meal and Sharon had a bottle of plain water with her meal. I also got half a liter of red wine with my meal. I had to pour it myself so the table cloth is now red polka dot. We shared a chocolate mousse for dessert. It was topped with whipped cream and was a very dark chocolate mousse, and seemed a bit heavier than normal.

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