SERIOUSLY, THOUGH
When In Rome...
by Asher Rubin
Mike & Marge decided they wanted to go somewhere different for vacation. Usually, they go to Tahoe, rent a house, bike around, hike a bit, and read Danielle Steel. This time they decide to go abroad.
The first question, of course, is where to go. Baghdad and Kabul are probably sold out. Problematic weather in Kosovo. Mogadishu? Maybe next year. Sweden is a candidate but a mixed drink there costs as much as a Volvo. Egypt is a possibility but Marge suspects the gold dealers in the souk in Cairo are untrustworthy. They agree on Italy.
Next question is whether to do the trip on their own or use a travel agent. Mike’s afraid that if they do it by themselves and rent a car at the Rome airport and head for the center of the city, he will take a wrong turn and they will wind up in Sicily. And if they go online and choose a hotel, it’s a certainty the hotel will be next to a church whose bells will be the loudest in the hemisphere. And it’s not as if their Italian is fluent. All they know is “grazie” and “Are you serioso?” Better to use a travel agent who will map out the details — plan the tours, arrange for pickups, and maybe even send them some luggage tags at Christmas.
Flying to Rome from San Francisco is a grin-and-bear-it experience or, more accurately, grim-and-bear-it. You have to change planes in Amsterdam or Paris, and that first flight is so long — close to 11 hours — that when you arrive at that first stop you want to lie down in front of the duty free shop and take a nap before your connecting flight. Marge is terrified that she will develop a blood clot in a leg during the long flight so Mike periodically gives her massages as they cross the Atlantic.
Rome is a glorious city. Mike & Marge are staying in the cute, to-die-for old part of town, not far from the Spanish Steps. After a brief recovery from jet lag, they walk over to the Piazza Navona and sit down at an outdoor café for lunch. The waiter greets them with a smile and a hearty “Buon giorno.” He asks if they’d like something to drink, and Mike says, “Plain water, no gas.” The waiter brings out a small, open carafe of water and plunks down a basket with four slices of bread in it.
They each order lasagna and shortly, two rather modest squares of lasagna arrive. And then the bill comes. The charge for the lasagna is as it appears on the menu. However, they are also charged $6.50 for the water, $6.50 for the bread, and 14 percent service, and the waiter hastens to add that the service charge is for the restaurant; they must tip him separately. Total cost of the lunch (and Mike is far from full): $68!
This is the moment when Mike is made graphically aware of the pitiful state of the U.S. dollar. It’s one thing to read that the dollar has lost ground against the euro; it’s another when you’re at a kiosk in Rome and handing over $3.10 for a daily edition of the Herald Tribune. One euro is worth about $1.60. The problem is that the prices in Europe, even in euros, are high. A cheeseburger at a modest restaurant runs about 12 euros. That translates into $19! And if you order fries, you won’t have enough left to get back to the States.
Mike is a little sick; the lasagna sits heavy. As they walk along the fancy Via Condotti, Marge oohs and ahs at the gorgeous clothes in the elegant stores, and Mike converts the euro price tags to dollars. It’s staggering. He had secretly hoped to buy Marge a couple of Valentino outfits, but now he’s thinking more in terms of a keychain. He finally pulls out his credit card and treats his wife to a Furla bag. The price is 210 euros or about $335.
Stung by food prices, they read in their Frommer’s guidebook that a good way to save money is to either eat standing up at a counter or buy a pre-made sandwich and a bottle of water, sit on a bench outside, and have a little picnic. Accordingly, they drop in on a McDonald’s, figuring they’ll purchase McChickens to go and sit down on the nearby Spanish Steps.
As it happens, this McDonald’s may be the prettiest in the entire chain. There are marble alcoves with wire mesh tables on the ground floor and up above, food is prepared and served in a high-ceilinged room with marble walls and dignified chandeliers. Mike chuckles at the incongruity.
The streets in the old part of town are absurd. They are so narrow that the cars must go very slowly and wait while pedestrians part and let them through. There are no sidewalks or room for vehicles to park so deliveries cause mini traffic jams. The pavement consists of cobblestones, and Mike & Marge marvel at the stylish Italian women who negotiate the streets in stiletto heels.
After an exhausting walking tour of the Trevi Fountain, the Church of the Bones (with its macabre collection of skulls and femurs), the Borghese gallery, the Pantheon, and the Coliseum, they go to a town called Tivoli to view Hadrian’s Villa. This compound was built about 118 A.D. and basically, it’s now a collection of rubble. Mike and Marge rent audio guides which explain where the baths were and the living quarters, etc. The problem is that they stand there and look at the crumbling stones and are compelled to rely on their imagination. Mike closes his eyes and tries to picture the ancient community but visions of being home playing golf keep intruding.
For a special treat, Mike has arranged a two-day trip down to Positano, a small village perched impossibly on a steep mountain leading down to the sea. They check into the elegant Sirenuse which costs more per night than Marge’s graduate school tuition. The only activity permitted in Positano is walking up and down stone steps. There are, of course, shops catering to tourists who cannot go home without a miniature plastic bust of Julius Caesar and a ballpoint pen decorated with a painting by Caravaggio.
Back to Rome and then home. Mike figures that paying his anticipated credit card bill will pull the U.S. out of its current recession.
Asher Rubin has traveled widely but not well. He does have enough frequent flyer miles for a trip to Emeryville. Asher collects brochures of the Gobi Desert.
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