Tridente

Friday in the eternal city of youth and love (it's not called that, I just made it up) and as per, it's hot. Again. Loving it. Apparently it's raining in England. Oh, such a shame.

Started the day at Piazza del Popolo which is the largest 'square' in Rome. It's actually an oval. I took some pictures for yous lot. It was lovely. And because of the lack of shade, it seemed to be quite empty. Might have been because it was so big. Either way, as you stand at the north end (the most northern point of the roman city wall that encompasses the capital) you look down at three roads, all leading off of Piazza del Popolo. This area is called Tridente, as in trident and these three roads have barely moved in place or direction for thousands of years. The main one, Via del Corso was used by chariot racers as it was the most direct route to the Colosseum. They would race there and back again. Last one back, died. Simples.

As I walked down this road, I could hardly not notice how modern Romans weren't too dissimilar from their ancestors. I nearly died. A lot. Six times. That is far too many times for one day.

This area is beautiful. But incredibly expensive. Via de Condotti boasts all the big names in fashion; Prada, Gucci, Bvlgari, Brioni, Dolce and Gabana... If it's high fashion, it's here. I saw a bag, Chanel (not even Italian) for €6,900. It was no bigger than my dog. In fact, my dog could probably just get in it. (For those of you that don't know, my dog is a Jack Russell, probably 18 inches long and 12 inches high)

If I were on holiday, not travelling, and I were a millionaire, I could easily and I mean EASILY spend thousands of Euros. I have such good taste. And I'm so modest too...

There is a back street running along Via del Corso called 'Via de Margutta'. It is said that if true lovers meet for the first time and kiss on this road they will live a happy, long and eternal love. It's such a beautiful place. Ivy and other plants grow up and down the houses, tiny restaurants offering private tables and sharing plates of food and the locals smile. First place in Rome I've known this to happen.

After a bit of photography, I went to Villa Borghese which is a park in the city, like Central Park in NY, except it's one of the highest places in the capital, and a bloody long climb. But my god, the views are well worth it. You can see all of Rome. Hills in the background, houses and churches rising above each other with the Vatican the highest dome and then directly below this 'balcony' is Piazza del Popolo. The few people you can see from here look like ants.

The park is huge. If you can call it a park. Due to the extremely hot Italian summers, the grass is dusty and scorched. The few trees are all umbrella trees, famous for being able to grow in droughts. The only saving grace is the breeze which doesn't exist down below in the streets. Up here, it's cleaner and more open, less frenzied and more about relaxing.

The National Gallery of Modern Art dominates the middle of the park. I didn't think I was much of an arty person, but I thought I'd give it a go anyway.

Turns out I was right. I'm not an arty person. At all. So much so in fact, I went for lunch. Ravioli, white wine and some focaccia bread. Lovely.

On the way out I recognised a word, which made a change. Warhol Exhibition stood high above a door way. Result! It was a huge display of Warhol paintings, prints, videos and photography. Really quite brilliant. It was only there for another few days, so I timed it right.

Walked down to the city via the old zoo, which is outdated and in need of closing down. From the road I could see lions pacing in the heat. There was a monkey so dazed I could have put his arms into the positions for YMCA and he wouldn't have flinched.

Had an afternoon nap, which is fast becoming the norm, and while I was laying in bed, planned out the last four days in Rome (that's actually made me sad even typing that)

Went for dinner and eventually chose a backstreet restaurant which, annoyingly had a table of rowdy teenagers. I know this, because all they were talking about was what colleges they're going to go to in the autumn. Even the waiters were getting annoyed and when I mentioned it to my waiter, he rolled his eyes and said 'Americans'.

To all the beautiful Americans reading this, and I know there are at least 14 of you, Blogger tells me, I still love you, despite this appalling representation of American Citizenship. My favourite part was when they tried to pay with dollars instead of 'this monopoly crap' (Euros). The manager then came out and told them to pay and leave.

They did. Eventually.

People like that really wind me up. Those waiters didn't do anything wrong and yet they get abuse. Rude rude rude human beings. (I'm thinking of you guys at beautiful Ragdale while typing that by the way)

Anyways. More happenings from the restaurant. 16 women showed up and demanded a table all together. Watching them be squeezed onto the smallest table I've ever seen made me think "wouldn't that have been better on two 8's next to each other." Alas, the waiters here are fantastic and suitably got all 16 of them shit faced within 20 minutes. What professionals!

Next to arrive. A beautifully blond German couple called Hans (I shit you not) and Neala. I'm getting good at striking up a conversation with strangers. It seems to be a skill you learn while drunk. No sober human being would speak to another unless absolutely necessary.

So on it went, the endless changing of tables. At about 11pm I got bored and decided to go back to the hostel. A long way home tonight as I wore flip flops. BIG MISTAKE. Blisters tomorrow!

And so, I'm tired. Time for beddy-byes.

Until tomorrow... Toodle-o-mother-f***ers

(Sorry Mum)