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Published: June 28th 2006
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Well, yesterday was quite the day. We headed out rather early to visit the Colloseum where we spent 10 euro on what was essentially nothing more than a way to bypass the line. It was supposed to be a tour but after about 15 minutes with our tour guide, we had no choice but to flee. "It was very important to be a good gladiator. Gladiator comes from the sword of the gladiators because the sword was called a gladio which is where we get the word for the gladiators from. It was very important to be a good gladiator... the would fight all kinds of animals too. They would fight lions, and tigers, and all other kinds of animals... they would fight elephants...and they were called gladiators which comes from the name of their sword..." We really had no choice but to cut our losses and run. After moving through the Colloseum and forum and pantheon we decided to find some food. Eventually, after walking what seemed like miles through the horrific roman heat, we finally stopped at a nice little restaurant where Dan (who is fluent in Italian) ordered for us so we no longer had to embarass ourselves
The Glory of Rome
See, not all their statues were crappy. with our pathetic attempts at speaking. While waiting for our food, Stace and myself marvelled at softball sized balls of mozarella being carted past to various tables. It was incredible, although, in hindsight, the idea of eating anymore cheese could not be less appealing.
Later in the afternoon we all decided to go out to watch the game. (We've watched most of the games anyway, but as Brazil was playing, this one had special importance for Daniel). Again, we elected to walk a good half an hour out of the way to find some dinky little Scottish bar to watch it in. We were all pretty much elated to find the bar because Scottish equals Guiness (The greatest of all beers). Scant moments later we were all devastated when the Italian bartender informed us that in spite of the massive Guiness tap we were peering over to speak with her, there was in fact, no Guiness (Also no pizza, which lead us to question the "Guiness & Pizza" sign hanging outside the doors to the pub). Saddened and morose, we all ordered our various drinks (Stacey electing for the Strongbow cider, Daniel, Elephant beer (not as delicious as you'd
Hello Vino
They're laughing because the wine just told them a funny joke. expect) and myself, a delicious Tetley's English Ale. I'm not sure of Dan, Gio or Devan's orders as they were across the table and enmeshed in their own conversation (By the by, Dan and Gio are Devan's friends from school who met us here)). In order to keep the game interesting, Daniel, Devan and Gio (who is Mexican and thus supportive of latin american football teams) were pulling for Brazil. Stacey, Dan, and myself, electing to be more socially conscious and supportive of the hard-working underdogs, decided to cheer for Ghana. We all agreed that whenever a goal was scored, the corresponding supporters would take shots (As the final score was 3-0 Brazil, clearly Daniel, Devan and Gio came our the worse for wear). We would have stuck around for the France-Spain game, but as devan (Thanks to Gio's chicanery and his own lack of control) was in no shape to continue.
Long story short, we had to more or less heave him the 2-3 mile walk back to the hostel all the while telling him we were only half a block away.
Once we got back, we put Devan to bed (meanwhile Gio passed out on the
floor) locked them in, and headed out to find some dinner. Stacey, Daniel, Dan and myself wound up at a trattoria down the street where once again we immersed ourselves in the most amazing food in the world. We would've gone in for another carafe of Vino de Casa (as we've been doing most of the time) but after the events of the afternoon, water just seemed like a much better idea. Oddly enough, without the two drunks, our dinner conversation turned to the arts, philosophy and a discussion of the linguistic variations between romance languages. After a long relaxing dinner, I left the table early to go check on the boys.
Upon returning to the room, I unbolted the door and pushed it open only to have it jar to a stop about 2 inches in. Confused and frustrated, I heaved against it again and realized that it was stuck fast. After I spent a few moments feeling around I found the leg of one of our chairs near the bottom of the door. Ten minutes later I had lifted the chair (via my fingertips) managed to move some other pieces of furniture, scaled the desk, clambered over
Uh... yeah...
This can only be explained one way... Heat Madness... an unconcious Gio and was looking back at the barricade. Apparently, Gio had awoken at some point, tried to escape (not realizing that the door was bolted), become frustrated and moved every available piece of furniture against the door. He told us this morning that his reasoning was that since he couldn't get out, he wanted to make sure Devan didn't wake up and leave either.
In any case, I went back downstairs where Stacey and I laid on the marble floor of the lobby and watched France pummel Spain in their matchup. Glorious.
Today, we head out for Prague. Devan and Daniel are doing their laundry while Stacey and myself occupy the lobby and debate whether or not to brave the heat and go find another round of Gellato (I'm mean, it is kind of our last chance and I don't think it would be appropriate for us to leave without having some more...).
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Rich
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A fly on the wall.,.....
Oh to be a fly on the wall... I have been laughing myself silly with all of your postings. Four weeks of discussions about "art and literature" would be pretty boring. At least you have Devan to break up those "lofty" discussions!