Saturday, Oct. 13th

I wake at 5:30AM, finish packing, and place my luggage on the first floor for the cabs. After breakfast I eat breakfast and sit on the rooftop garden for the last time, meditating and writing in my journal.

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I say goodbye to Assisi and look forward to a leisurely walk through town before we head towards Rome. Unfortunately I discover that we were meeting at the parking lot at 8:15AM, rather than at the front of the Casa, and River and I have to haul ass to catch the ride. Goodbye, Assisi.

I get to my regular bus seat and discover it lean back without limit. I have to be careful to sit sideways so I don’t crush Liz’s (the girl behind me) legs. I’m discombobulated after the bus-rush, but I try to settle into the morning and close my eyes for thirty minutes or so as we pass through the towns below Assisi. We head up a mountain to Greccio, where Francis popularized the Christmas nativity scenes, and do mass again. The chapel door depicts Francis and a wolf cast in metal. I take a couple quick pics, the first of scenery off the mountain, the second of a ceramic Mary that looks a little starletesque for my comfort:

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I snag a diet coke at a shop just before mass and sip it throughout the service. Priest talks about how Francis loved Christmas and even wanted to rub meat on chapel walls so the church could eat. Ok. LN takes us on a tour of impossibly small rooms and crevices in caves where Francis and his followers would stay while in Greccio. Sue, one of the Jersey girls, throws out her knee on the walk down the hill back to the bus. I help her down the path and into her seat and manage to fix my own seat in the process.

We arrive at a small set of buildings above a small residential area. Dogs greet us at the door, and the dog people among us get our canine fix playing with the animals in the small yard near the bus. The place is called Mondo X. Apparently it’s sort of an Italian rehab. We walk through the halls and take some pictures in a courtyard while waiting for Christmas dinner. I’m not ready for the dining room. The place is decked out for a full Christmas feast, long tables arranged in a rectangle. I sit between Annie and Ken. The waiters are thin, healthy, heavily tattooed Italian guys, proceeding through rehab, and when one finds out I’m a vegetarian he says he’s one, too. Ken, Heidi (his wife) and I talk about his nieces and nephews in Toledo. We eat like kings: risotto, sweet cake, salads, parmesan cheese. After we’re finished we clap for the chef and he waves shyly from the kitchen. I borrow some Euros (no small bills) from Laura and buy a Mondo X T-shirt. We play with the dogs again, with the addition of a couple cats, before we get on the bus and head to Rome.

The Rome traffic isn’t bad. We’re deposited in front of what looks like a pretty nice hotel but is actually a rooming house run by some Catholic organization. The desk clerk, a rude skinhead type, quickly earns the nickname “Borat”. We’re only a block from St. Peter’s Square, everything gleams, and I have my own room. I had been looking forward to my own room before the trip started, but when I get to my room I kind of miss River. I’m as tense as I have been all trip. I miss my family, we’re nearing the end, and I’m counting the hours. Plus, at our Rome orientation, in a rooming house classroom, Priest makes Rome sound like a war zone. Apparently thieves, muggers, and criminals possess Roman streets. I’m not the only one shitting my pants after Priest’s fire and brimstone description. Remember, I’m from Chicago, and I don’t scare of cities easily. Perhaps a week in Assisi, along with the big lunch, lowered my defenses.

I’m desperate for a phone, but I can’t find one around the rooming house. As soon as I walk out the door two teenagers try to sell me postcards and I startle, saying “No!” They laugh as I walk away. I can’t find a phone in the brief window of time before a group walk through night Rome. LN leads us into St. Peter’s Square, but we move like a phlanx at war. I put my Euros in my sock and stay close to my friends. We take a crowded subway and I feel comfortable for the first time since arriving in Rome. I know how to act on the subway. We emerge near the Spanish steps. Dark-skinned men sell glowing trinkets to tourists. LN points out a phone, after I ask, and I talk with M for a couple minutes. I feel better, but I’m still wired, and I can’t believe so many people have little kids out in the crowds that are supposedly populated by evildoers. If I had kids here we’d be locked in the hotel room. I think I lost my mind a little that night.

LN leads us from the Spanish steps to the Trevi fountain. There isn’t much room around the fountain, but I take a couple pictures anyway. Here’s one:

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Ivan wants a picture of him throwing a coin into the fountain. I tell him I’m not throwing in a coin because the legend indicates throwing a coin into the fountain will eventually bring you back to the fountain, and I don’t want to return to this place ever again. Laura, Gladys and I find a pizza place near the fountain. I get a piece of potato pizza and eat with my friends near the back of the shop. Afterwards we meet us with the group and walk to some famous gelato place. I pass on the ice cream but end up with a free one because someone ordered too much. The space is packed, so I stand outside with Jude and the NY guys while everyone else gets their gelato. LN gets us lost on the way back to the rooming house. We walk past the Tiber at night, past stalls selling trinkets lit by small lamps that line the river. We have to go through a dark tunnel that runs beneath a street to get back to the rooming house, so we more or less stick together and push through the darkness. A couple minutes after I get to my room Ivan knocks on the door. We’re both hoping we can use the room phones to call home (we didn’t have room phones in Assisi), but we can’t figure out how to get them to work. River, Ivan, one of the NY guys, and I find a phone across from the rooming house and take turns calling home before we call it a night.