Bernini

I accidentally traveled in luxury from Florence to Rome. And paid for it too. I thought, from reading various online things about Eurorail, that passengers over 26 were obligated to travel first class. So I bought my ticket to Rome and it cost (gulp) 59 Euro, or 89 or so dollars. Then, the next day when I was purchasing my ticket from Rome to Naples ahead of time, I had to wait in line. I watched a lady in her 40s pick second class. So I did the same. THAT ticket was 10.50 Euro. For a journey of roughly the same distance. Needless to say, my two-hour journey was extremely comfortable. The seat comformed to my back. The headrest had a built-in pillow. There was a smart fold-out table which I used to review my paper notes. Most of the seats were empty, and those that were filled contained the well-dressed and put-togethers. I pretended not to be a dirty backpacker for a minute. Until my cheap rolling suitcase, which I bought from a street vender to ease my load, suddenly remembered that it was lopsided after all and fell over, hitting a woman with the handle on the side of her leg. I felt bad, said Sorry again and again because I can't remember anything in Italian right now, and she was nice but it clearly hurt. I felt awful!

Other than that, I enjoyed watching the Tuscan and then Umbrian landscape roll by. It's funny; I knew exactly when the regions switched. Everything was green and sort of romantic and red-tiled, and then we went through this little tunnel, and came out in a dustier, green white and brown landscape. Umbria is pretty too. All through Europe, I' ve been wanting to catch a shot of a super old farmhouse, preferably partially in ruins. I've seen many, while my camera was off and put away. Even when I have it out, I'll notice a ruin, lift the camera and then wham! truck or tree. Or, my camera will be on but will choose that moment to go into sleeper mode. C'est la vie, I suppose.

Getting from Termini station to my campground was an adventure. The metro travel was very long, which I don't mind. I arrived at the pick-up point for the campground's shuttle bus and waited. And waited some more, so I pulled out the directions and my little clock. "On the half-hour," it said. Oh, wait. Except between the hours of... So I hopped, with all my luggage, onto the bus that said "Mare" and watched the beach go by for a while. Started to get nervous when the bus didn't turn around. Went to the window and asked the bus driver, "Scusi, ritorno Colombo?" He couldn't hear through the glass, he claimed. Sat down and started to panic, as we were now going through a small town and had potentially changed directions. Felt better when I realized that we were actually traveling back down the coast the other way.

Anyway, I got to my campground, registered, changed into my swimsuit, grabbed my paperback copy of "The Salmon of Doubt," the posthumously collected musings of Douglas Adams, and nearly ran to the pool. I'm staying at Country Club Castelfusana and they have two pools--the one I've frequented is 50 by 25 meters and has lots of deck chairs and a poolside bar. I swam for a while and then sat down and ordered a sandwhich and a couple very nice, er, birthday beverages. This is a school blog. Read some Douglas Adams while sipping my refreshing lime-flavored beverage and listening to a pretty good mix of music. They played a remix of "Whatever Lola Wants" that I actually didn't mind, some Pink Floyd, lots of Marley, a few dance numbers, some Brazilian music (which my inner dweeb actually likes), and David Bowie. After all that work, I had to take another dip in the pool. It was a good birthday.

Today I went to the Borghese area of Rome. It's a very big park with several museums, a lake and temple, and walking grounds. Went to a museum of 6th to 3rd century Etruscan art and then to the exquisite Borghese museum. It's the mansion of an art collector, I think from 2 or so centuries ago. Has a wonderful collection; my guidebook said it was the best collection in Rome (which is a tall order). I fell in love with the Bernini sculptures. I have a few new obsessions from this trip, and Bernini is one.

After a long day at the park, I wandered to the Piazza Di Spagna and washed my feet in a Bernini fountain, didn't know that until afterward. The park had been relatively deserted (relatively) but the square was definitely a hubbub. I took a picture of house 26, which was where Keats spent his final years, but didn't pay the fee to go in beyond the first set of stairs. Then I went back up to the park for a view of Rome from one of its seven hills and returned back to my campground, which was another adventure I'll save for another day. Anyway, at 8:30 I decided, why not? and went for a quick dip in the pool again. Then I ate the first thing I've had all day besides water, a yogurt drink, and some chips. I discovered that the pizza place here charges 2 Euro a slice. Super cheap! I'm pretty pleased with this place; the only caveat is that I should have stayed in a bungalow or room. The outdoor tents are nasty, and they don't even have linen right now to rent. (!). My tent smells funky. Er, I should add, it smelled funky before I got there. It doesn't lock, either, but I don't think anyone will want to come in. But there is a little refridgerator, so that's handy! The other problem is the bathrooms--sure, I expect campground-type facilities, but some of the sinks are plugged and I have never yet experienced hot water in the showers here. But all that for 11 bucks a night, with free access to a fabulous pool, and being surrounded by a forest of my new favorite kind of tree, the Roman Pines. So it's a toss-up.

If I really had the money, I would upgrade the second stay here, August 1-4th, to a room in the farmhouse they have in the middle of the campground. It's a grand, looming, ancient building, and in the big lot they have an ox, some boars, a chicken coop, and who knows what-all.

My feet stink. I need to work on my paper (the neverending story).