The National Museum - Written July 2013

Breakfast as usual, coffee / hot chocolate and pastry at the "Bar." The man behind the counter seems to be a little friendlier each day. David and I sit outside today and enjoy the coolness of a shaded table by the sidewalk. As we leave, we are focused on our planned visit to the National Museum. I vaguely register a disturbance from the area we left, so I quicken my pace hoping to avoid any trouble. Every day on our way here, we pass what we think is an embassy. We don't know which one and don't recognize the flag but there are always one or two armed military and a military vehicle stationed in front .
The shouting gets louder and David turns to see what is happening. Rushing along behind us is our "friend from behind the counter of the coffee shop." He is breathless, clearly annoyed, and shouting at us in Italian. We notice the man is waving David's camera in the air and clearly berating us. We don't understand any of his words, so David calmly retrieves his camera, we smile and say 'thank you'. Later, I theorize the man was concerned that we were very vulnerable to the thieves and  pickpockets that prompt all the warning signs. We'll see how he responds to us at breakfast tomorrow.

We tried to see the Capitolini Museum yesterday, but arrived too close to closing time. There was a huge crowd of people gathered in the Piazza so we waaited to see what was happening. After a long while, we asked around and discovered the Mayor of Rome was scheduled to speak to the assembled group. David took this photo:

Mayor of Rome, Italy

The National Museum is filled with statuary and artifacts dating from before Christ. It still amazes me that everything can be so old and well preserved. David states later that "everyone in Rome must have run around naked" because all the statues are naked or barely clothed. He is getting quite an education! We saw duplicate statues of a hermaphrodite in two different museums. She is lying on her side, only partially exposed. The difference is in presentation. One museum puts the art form in a central position where it can easily be seen from all sides. The other museum places the form at an angle near the wall that requires some serious neck-craning to get a full view. I wonder why.

Not being an artist, I find it difficult to maintain an interest in marble, carved heads. Then I notice a focus on hair styles, which are apparently useful in dating and identifying statues. Some of the men sport women's styles, especially the male sports figures.

Feminine style on male athlete

Style favored by matrons



Departure and Arrival

Photo op at the airport on arrival.

My main flight criteria were to avoid the airports in New York and  Washington D.C. and to avoid long layovers. I found an American Airline flight that left at 11:15 a.m. and arrived in Rome about 9:30 a.m. the next day. Perfect! A 3 hour layover in Chicago and then straight through to Rome. Couldn't be better.

Almost every guide stresses using the train [11 Euros one way] to get from the airport to the Termini, where metro and buses can be accessed. We opted for a through bus [4 Euros one way if you buy a round trip ticket], but you do have to put your own luggage in the hold of the bus.



First you have to look high for the sign

Next task was to find lodging. Working on the Internet and using a map of Rome, I looked for a 2-3 star accommodation in a safe area and in my price range. This takes a lot of reading the reviews, reading between the lines of the reviews, and a lot of faith. Americans don't give the smaller places very good reviews because they judge the places by American standards. I think the place should be clean, comfortable, and safe. I know it won't be in the same league as our motels unless I go to a facility that caters to Americans. Why go to Europe to live like an American?

The Hotel Katty (pronounced Kaytee) was listed as being anywhere from "a few steps" to only a 10 minute walk from the Termini, depending on which review you believed. It seemed a long way when we walked the first time. I chalk that up to 14 hours on an airplane but it did feel good to stretch our legs. The hotel was near restaurants, a laundromat, and a couple of grocery stores which made us pretty self sufficient. I wish I had asked the location of the grocery when we arrived because the second one we found was larger and offered a lot more choices.




David in the minuscule lift

Hotel Katty was rather difficult to find and I am sure the elderly man who answered the doorbell we rang and shrugged his shoulders at our questions, was tired of being bothered by touristas. We finally found it tucked away in a corner. The hotel consisted of 18 rooms on the third floor of the building but we were blessed with an elevator. True to European style, it was a tiny elevator. We squeezed our two suitcases, two backpacks, and 2 weary bodies into the minuscule "lift" then figured out the proper workings to make it go - close the cage door, close the 2 wooden doors, and push the proper button for the labored trip to the 3rd floor. David always opted to walk after that.
The room was small so the twin beds had to be pushed together during the day so we could walk past them. A window with shutters overlooked the narrow street and we were serenaded each night by music from a bar or restaurant down the way. The noise did not bother us or keep us awake. We viewed it as colorful ambiance of the area.

 Arriving so early during the day, we had to fight the urge to nap, but we won. The secret of adjusting to the time change quickly is to stay awake the first day of your arrival. Feeling revived after a quick shower, we headed off to see what we could see for the rest of the afternoon and planned for an early night of much needed sleep.

The "Groupon" Caper

O.K. I will return to unfinished travels later.

I am starting afresh with the arrival of a "Groupon" in my e-mail box. [If you are not familiar with these, just type "groupon" in your search engine and  explore deals for the area of the country or activity you are interested in visiting.]

 David was ready for a trip with Grandma and I was having a difficult time finding anything to meet both our needs.When I travel with my grandchildren, I attempt to focus on an area of interest to them but one I will be able to enjoy with them as well. I had already made two trips to England with grandchildren focusing on Harry Potter and, although the trips were delightful, I did not particularly relish a third.  Among the interests David and I did share, "cooking" rated near the top but, after scouring Internet sites,  I had almost despaired of finding a cooking adventure that would challenge both our skills. Fortunately, even at age 11, he was beyond the beginner stage and was quite adventurous and creative in his kitchen at home.

When the "Groupon" arrived in my inbox, I almost summarily dismissed it. The destination for a cooking course was in Italy. Could it be true? Was it a scam? Would they accept an 11 year old? Could I trust the source? A slew of questions invaded my thoughts and, although I did not delete the e-mail immediately, I did pass it by for more thought. I checked the reviews, the site, the proposed itinerary, and finally questioned my daughter on her view of David's readiness for such an adventure.

About a year earlier, I had asked David where he would like to go IF he could choose. He replied that he would like to "eat spaghetti in Italy."
"Well," I teased, "I can just take you to Olive Garden restaurant and save a lot of money."
When I reminded him of that conversation, he grimaced.
 "So, would you prefer to go to Olive Garden and we can take your brother and mom along, or would you rather go to Italy and make your own pasta?" I asked with a smile.
David is not given to outward bursts of enthusiasm but his big grin made his choice quite clear. All systems, it seemed, were a "go," so I made the commitment. David and I were scheduled to begin our culinary experience on 16 June 2013 when we would be met at the airport in Rome, Italy.

Although the trip was several months away, there was a lot to accomplish. David needed a passport and permission letters for me to take him out of the country.  I required that he do some independent research on the area/s we would visit, make a list of things he would like to see,  and learn something about Italian art and history. He exchanged his ever present novel for a Rick Steves' book on Rome and began to set up an itinerary for us. We would leave a few days early and spend some time in Rome on our own before traveling to Carunchio, Italy. My main tasks were to set up the travel and accommodation for the parts of the trip that were not covered.

Thus we began......

Spain 2012 - Settling In

Preparations for overseas travel begin long before the trip, especially when you are trying to mesh different activities. I thought everything was in place when Emily and I set off for the airport on July 1st. Unfortunately, we did not learn until after we arrived that our flight had been cancelled. Anger and disappointment mixed like oil and water. I didn't know which would win but instinctively knew that yelling and screaming would do no good. Fortunately, we had the option of turning around and going home until the next day. Also, I had planned a few extra days prior to the first event which meant we would still arrive on time.

Note to self: Always allow an extra day or so for unplanned delays. Find a way to check the flight status prior to departure, preferably a day ahead, even when it has been "confirmed" ahead of time.

The flight had been confirmed but then cancelled. The airline called a number (presumably the travel agent which subsequently denied having the message on their machine) and "No other flights " were available. I was geared to be upset with American Airlines but have since been tempered by their adequate service for the rest of the trip.

I had never before been to Spain so I was stumbling around on the Internet to find my way. After booking our flights, the next logical order of business was to find lodging. Lodging was plentiful in our first stop, Madrid, but there were many factors to consider. Price, of course, but even more important was safety. A woman and young girl traveling alone must make some allowances for their perceived vulnerability.

I finally settled on the Mora Hotel (Hostel Mora) which I booked through venere.com. There were a few negative reviews, probably disgruntled Americans who expected everything to be "just like at home" but the positives appeared to outweigh the negatives and the room was easily booked. I provided a credit card number which was not billed until we departed from the hotel. The flight delay had thrown a kink into our plans and I was concerned we would have to pay for a night when we had not been there, but I notified the hotel immediately and they were very accommodating.

Our room was small by American standards but adequate for us and we were out and about almost all day. The building was old but newly refurbished and held the  charm of an olde worlde hotel. We took an elevator to our room on the third floor and were grateful we did not have to walk and carry our luggage up the minuscule stairs. We wondered why there was no electricity when we first arrived in our room. Then we recalled that the room key had to be inserted in the slot by the door to activate everything. 

  A tiny balcony overlooked the busy street below, but the noise and light were blocked from our room by double windows / doors and, with the room fan on, we slept soundly without interference from the outside world.





The hotel was just across the street from the Botanical Gardens and very near El Prado, so we overlooked a nice little park with lovely, warm street lights.

Emily slept for 16 hours after we arrived then I let her choose what she wanted to do on the first day. Of course, the answer was "Go shopping!" 
We quickly learned that "Rebajas" meant "Sales"!