Saturday, May 15, 2004 Napoli to Roma

After breakfast we decide to take one more trip to the internet café. Cappuccino and succo de mela. My kids will never drink regular apple juice again. I check my bank account. Oh good. There’s still some money left. We can eat in Rome.

Our driver comes to get us at 11:30. I don’t think we are going to make the 12:30 train to Rome. “Do you have your tickets?”, He asks. No. Why didn’t I get them, there are plenty of agencies around? Well probably because I would have gotten 12:30 tickets and there is no way we are going to make the 12:30 train. The Naples station does not have any machines, the driver tells me. I thought I saw some, but I stood in line anyways. People in the line are very aggressive. After two men budge in front of me, I get aggressive about holding my place. One young woman in front isn’t quite ready so she motions someone behind her to go ahead. When the next window opens, one of the men who budged in front of me wants to pass her and go to the window but she takes the window. He complains. I was here first", she tells him. He begins to complain animatedly in Italian to me. I simply smile and shrug. Yea, right, buddy, like you are going to get any sympathy from me after you budged in front of me!

I thought they took credit cards at the train station but the man at the window says "cash only" Okay fine. First he wants 104 E for 3 first class tickets to Roma. How can that be when it was 97.62 from Roma to Napoli a few days ago? Oh wait, he’s mistaken. Its only 97.62. Go figure.

We have tickets for the 1:30 train and people are boarding at 1. As we hustle to our car toward the back, of course, some guy takes my ticket and tells me what car to get on. He doesn’t work for the train company and I know what car to get on, thank you very much and I grab my ticket back from him. He’s not going away. He follows us to the car, grabs our luggage and puts them on the rack and then waits expectantly for his tip. I hand over a 5 E bill. I guess it was nice having him lift the luggage for us, but I kind of resent the fact that I had no choice in the matter. And what if I hadn’t had anything small euros? Oh well, it all turned out okay.

Then a lady comes by and starts scolding Isaac in Italian. There’s an empty water bottle by his seat and she wants him to throw it away. He’s lost in his gameboy with his earphones and pays her no attention so she starts yelling at me. I look at her and shrug. I find this to be a good response. There is a couple next to me, and the man in an accent assures me the bottle was there and it was not my fault. The lady comes back and yells some more. He yells back at her in Italian and English "Go take it yourself if it bothers you “It would not have been that big a deal to pick up the bottle and throw it away but by now it would have been an admission of guilt. My boy’s honor is at stake! The bottle stays on the floor.

When we took the train from Roma to Napoli I slept most of the way. This time I enjoy the scenery. Endless groves of olive trees, rolling hills, red tiled house nestled in terraces, fields of bright red poppies and yellow wild flowers. We arrive in Roma at 3 pm.

We find a corner to huddle and gather enough coins for the WC. We haven’t eaten since breakfast. We need comfort food-not a culinary adventure. This sounds like a job for Mac Donald’s. Sarah wants a chicken sandwich without mayo but before I can say anything it’s on the tray. She won’t eat it. Where are the Sorrento dogs when you need them? I go back and get her a cheeseburger. 1.60E. That’s about 2 bucks. I think they are about 70 cents in the US.

We call the landlady for our apartment. She says shell meet us at 4:30, its 4 now. We get a taxi; I have the address written down. The cab driver speaks no English and seems a bit dubious about our address. It’s a 20 minute drive, 15 E fare, probably reasonable with all our luggage. He was very reluctant to leave us there. "Not hotel", he warns us. It’s just a big wooden door between two clothing shops. It’s a very busy street. "Apartamento", we tell him. Finally I say "Its okay" "Okay", he says. That and the fact that another lady is asking if he was "libero"assures him he can leave us on a busy sidewalk with 3 suitcases and 3 carryon bags. Fortunately it was not long before Maria, a cheerful young woman from the rental agency comes by to show us our apartment.


It’s a beautiful large one bedroom apt; the living room has a couch and a futon and stairs up to a loft. Hardwood floors. She shows us the bedroom. One double bed "Are those two beds pushed together" "no, no, one bed and the sofa bed."Not 3 beds? "You want 3 beds?" Uh, yea, I was always very specific about 3 beds. My 14 year old daughter does not want to sleep with her mother. "Nobody told us 3 beds" The apartment is wonderful but I’m a little miffed because I particularly asked for 3 beds. Maria says something about how strange we Americans are about that.

So I count out the 1050 E in cash I’ve been carrying around with me in my neck pouch. She gives us a lot of suggestions for eating places and what to order. Don’t eat too close to the Vatican, too touristy.

After she leaves, what do I find in the closet? A rollaway bed. Well now everything is just perfect.

Later Sarah was brushing her teeth, dropped her tooth brush and as she bent down to pick it up bumped her head on the marble corner of the sink, leaving her with a quarter inch cut and copious amounts of blood, which scared her more than anything else. Once I got the bleeding to stop she calmed down. Okay so maybe I overpacked but I was sure glad I brought the Neosporin!

A little after 8 we were ready for something more than Mac Donalds. The first trattoria/pizzeria down the street we wanted to try was too crowded but thought it must be good so made a note to come another time. Kitty corner to that was "Trattoria La Calvalori" which turned out to be recommended in Gustafson’s "Great Eats" book but we didn’t know that- only that it was close.

We tried Misti antipasto again this time I said "uno per tre" "Yes, I understand", the waiter answers, we want one plate for all of us share. It was assorted meats and a couple of ice cream scoops of mozzarella, but much better than what we had in Sorrento, marinated artichoke hearts and olives. Sarah liked the olives, but they were not pitted and she didn’t like that. I had cannelloni with sausage, the same sausage that was on Sarah’s pizza and Isaac got the pizza he knows he likes-mozzarella and prosciutto. Wine for me, Sprite for Isaac, water for everyone, 34 E total. Very reasonable.

Of course we had to have gelato after that and did not have to look far. Lemon for the kids, chocolate for me. It was like eating a frozen fudge brownie it was so chocolaty. Why can’t we have ice cream like this in the United States?