Saturday
We have a 1:07 AM departure from Bolzano (an hour and a half away on Danelle speed) with a straight shot to Rome...
...Best case scenario we play a game with few penalties, no off-sides, a lack of icings, and win in regulation.. we celebrate (YAY!), get outta dodge, autobahn the heck out of our car, find my coaches shop, park, walk to the train station, shutter down, and 8:34 AM we're in Rome...
... Worst case scenario is a knock-down, drag-out rumble on the ice where they score in the last minute of the game and take it through overtime into penalty shots.. and... ... sudden death penalty shots.. and then we lose when the puck catches some snow and my shot sails over the wide open glove hand of the goalie and I skate into the corner heading back to our bench trying to dodge the Fassa players that are jumping over their bench to congratulate their goalie... (although I did score in the first best of 5)... ... ... since we lose the game we have to go through the draining task of figuring out what to say... finding something to yell about... who to blame... and how to rebound... (I've never been a fan of this personally because all the emotions of either a win or a loss will cloud the reason... too harsh a critic or too lenient a well-wisher... but it happens)
... ... ...
... so off the ice at 11:07... shower... ready... go... drive... what turn?... we're not lost... around the prostitute laden streets Bolzano... no... no... the other way... turn around right here... back this way... okay... now a right here... do you see it anywhere?... what!? no! don't ask them for directions!?... ... ... ahhh... go around again... ... ... it should be right here... ... ... I'm gonna get out and walk down this way to see where it goes... ... ... ... ... ... okay... found it... just back here... how much time do we have... can we make it?... hope so...
... ... ...
... oh no! I forgot the waters I bought... oh no!! I forgot our change purse with all our money... oh no!!! I forgot the lunch we mad for the train... oh no!!!! where's my glove?.. oh.. here it is.. good... that was lucky...
... ... ...
... these seats are not at all comfortable... I can't get comfortable... are you comfortable?... zzzzZZZZZZZzzzz
Sunday
8:37 AM... Honestly, sadly, I think we both had our best sleep in weeks... even though our lower backs were sore and neither of us could look left... this says less about the seats on the train and a whole awful lot about our bed back home... A non-important looking and yet seriously important acting man with a badge reading 'hotels' (possibly drawn in crayon) and a nothing-written-on-it clip-board (but somehow gives him more credibility anyways) says he has a hotel for us... 60 Euros... follow him... ... ... should we?... probably not... why are you following!?... Brendan! I am never doing this again!...
... it was an unmarked hotel that didn't have a sign and was possibly a converted apartment... but it was a hotel room with a nice bed, a hot shower, a fridge, and a free breakfast.. it was 20 euros cheaper than anything else we found when we did shop 2 nights later... and got us into the city faster... so maybe we will do it again... (Gaia was the name of the hotel.. they served chocolate crepes for breakfast... and it was warm enough to have our window open... if anyone was wondering...)
...
... our plan was haphazard at best... we had a map that provided no identifiable strategy on how to tackle the city... no real route to take as far as we could tell... there's just things... everywhere... things everywhere... and all you can do is walk in circles and see what you can see... but first things first... the business of sightseeing... do what you simply must do... the Colliseum...
... the walk down to the Colliseum revealed the three main themes that would stay with us for the rest of our trip... tourist shops... graffiti... and garbage... the city is a big, dirty, ugly, touristy mess... (I was later to discover in my book on Rome that 2 of these things have been in Rome since its conception... first garbage... garbage in, garbage in.. stay garbage stay... people would throw garbage on the ground while leaning against a garbage can... and second graffiti... unwashed... unpainted... written on the walls of buildings, in the past even tombs, as political messages either for WHO to vote for, or once voted in, WHAT to vote for...
... but really
... It's just a vibe that the city gives out... Paris is glitz, order, clean, glamour, beauty, life... and it breathes life... it's a walk in the clouds... Rome, in contrast, though grander and older... is run down, dirty, grey, and falling into ruins... still strong... competitive... but confused... it resurrects a monster of history... halfway out of the grave... with one foot in and one foot out... squalor mixed with modernity... and every once in a while a blending of the two shows a glimpse of... something... inside... like a grey church of Maria opening up to reveal marble pillars, frescoes, and a magnificent gold inlay... fitting that it shows inner beauty and strength, actually, as above all Roman's valued morality, character, and strength...
... and out of the mess rises the Colloseum...
... Imagine... as hard as you can... entering the Coliseum... as free, to win glory and applause... as Christian, food for lions... as slave, to win freedom... as fan, to see... to make you strong... a testament to the glory of Rome... the struggle of life in competition... it's founding value... it has made the people of the city strong for nearly 500 years... built by 20,000 Jewish slaves (making it today anti-semetic to walk through it's commemorating arch)... Can you imagine?... the roar... the enemy... his eyes... and behind the doors of death... how would you meet them?...
We have a 1:07 AM departure from Bolzano (an hour and a half away on Danelle speed) with a straight shot to Rome...
...Best case scenario we play a game with few penalties, no off-sides, a lack of icings, and win in regulation.. we celebrate (YAY!), get outta dodge, autobahn the heck out of our car, find my coaches shop, park, walk to the train station, shutter down, and 8:34 AM we're in Rome...
... Worst case scenario is a knock-down, drag-out rumble on the ice where they score in the last minute of the game and take it through overtime into penalty shots.. and... ... sudden death penalty shots.. and then we lose when the puck catches some snow and my shot sails over the wide open glove hand of the goalie and I skate into the corner heading back to our bench trying to dodge the Fassa players that are jumping over their bench to congratulate their goalie... (although I did score in the first best of 5)... ... ... since we lose the game we have to go through the draining task of figuring out what to say... finding something to yell about... who to blame... and how to rebound... (I've never been a fan of this personally because all the emotions of either a win or a loss will cloud the reason... too harsh a critic or too lenient a well-wisher... but it happens)
... ... ...
... so off the ice at 11:07... shower... ready... go... drive... what turn?... we're not lost... around the prostitute laden streets Bolzano... no... no... the other way... turn around right here... back this way... okay... now a right here... do you see it anywhere?... what!? no! don't ask them for directions!?... ... ... ahhh... go around again... ... ... it should be right here... ... ... I'm gonna get out and walk down this way to see where it goes... ... ... ... ... ... okay... found it... just back here... how much time do we have... can we make it?... hope so...
... ... ...
... oh no! I forgot the waters I bought... oh no!! I forgot our change purse with all our money... oh no!!! I forgot the lunch we mad for the train... oh no!!!! where's my glove?.. oh.. here it is.. good... that was lucky...
... ... ...
... these seats are not at all comfortable... I can't get comfortable... are you comfortable?... zzzzZZZZZZZzzzz
Sunday
8:37 AM... Honestly, sadly, I think we both had our best sleep in weeks... even though our lower backs were sore and neither of us could look left... this says less about the seats on the train and a whole awful lot about our bed back home... A non-important looking and yet seriously important acting man with a badge reading 'hotels' (possibly drawn in crayon) and a nothing-written-on-it clip-board (but somehow gives him more credibility anyways) says he has a hotel for us... 60 Euros... follow him... ... ... should we?... probably not... why are you following!?... Brendan! I am never doing this again!...
... it was an unmarked hotel that didn't have a sign and was possibly a converted apartment... but it was a hotel room with a nice bed, a hot shower, a fridge, and a free breakfast.. it was 20 euros cheaper than anything else we found when we did shop 2 nights later... and got us into the city faster... so maybe we will do it again... (Gaia was the name of the hotel.. they served chocolate crepes for breakfast... and it was warm enough to have our window open... if anyone was wondering...)
...
... our plan was haphazard at best... we had a map that provided no identifiable strategy on how to tackle the city... no real route to take as far as we could tell... there's just things... everywhere... things everywhere... and all you can do is walk in circles and see what you can see... but first things first... the business of sightseeing... do what you simply must do... the Colliseum...
... the walk down to the Colliseum revealed the three main themes that would stay with us for the rest of our trip... tourist shops... graffiti... and garbage... the city is a big, dirty, ugly, touristy mess... (I was later to discover in my book on Rome that 2 of these things have been in Rome since its conception... first garbage... garbage in, garbage in.. stay garbage stay... people would throw garbage on the ground while leaning against a garbage can... and second graffiti... unwashed... unpainted... written on the walls of buildings, in the past even tombs, as political messages either for WHO to vote for, or once voted in, WHAT to vote for...
... but really
... It's just a vibe that the city gives out... Paris is glitz, order, clean, glamour, beauty, life... and it breathes life... it's a walk in the clouds... Rome, in contrast, though grander and older... is run down, dirty, grey, and falling into ruins... still strong... competitive... but confused... it resurrects a monster of history... halfway out of the grave... with one foot in and one foot out... squalor mixed with modernity... and every once in a while a blending of the two shows a glimpse of... something... inside... like a grey church of Maria opening up to reveal marble pillars, frescoes, and a magnificent gold inlay... fitting that it shows inner beauty and strength, actually, as above all Roman's valued morality, character, and strength...
... and out of the mess rises the Colloseum...
... Imagine... as hard as you can... entering the Coliseum... as free, to win glory and applause... as Christian, food for lions... as slave, to win freedom... as fan, to see... to make you strong... a testament to the glory of Rome... the struggle of life in competition... it's founding value... it has made the people of the city strong for nearly 500 years... built by 20,000 Jewish slaves (making it today anti-semetic to walk through it's commemorating arch)... Can you imagine?... the roar... the enemy... his eyes... and behind the doors of death... how would you meet them?...
... It's now sacred from all the martyr deaths on the Coliseum floor... and just up the hill the Necropolis of Nero where Christians were burned alive as torches to light his banquet feasts...
... Christians had a very hard time of it in the beginning years... and surprisingly... the Romans were not really opposed to new religions, and added a few on every so often in order to appease a god they might never have known needed it... but I guess Christians were different on exclusivity and in values... Romans valued strength and beauty... Christians valued the meek... Romans worshipped all gods... Christians opposed all but one... they flew in the face of Rome... like St Lawrence when Emperor Valerian told him to bring him the greatest treasure of their church... in response St Lawrence gathered together all of the downtrodden and 'meek' and brought them to the Emperor... not seeing the joke the Emperor determined to show that there was nothing to this new religion Christianity... he put St Lawrence on a skewer and had him slowly turned over a grill... released if only he would revoke his God... the crowd gathered as carrions ready for fodder... instead, St Lawrence used the opportunity to preach to the gathered crowd... 'Tonight' he said 'I will be with my savior in heaven.'... so struck was the crowd that they started to question if there might be something to this one God that a man was willing to die for... they wouldn't die for any of their 300... 4 hours into it Valerian himself came to Lawrence's side and asked once more if he had enough... St Lawrence's responded, "I think I'm done on this side, could you turn me over...?" to which he was turned over and died choking on the fumes...
... Next to the Coliseum.. the Palatine.. hill of Romulus... where 12 vultures flew overhead.. as opposed to only the 6 that flew over the Aventine hill where his brother Remus stood... signifying that Romulus was the one who would found the great city the oracle foretold... the true brother... made especially true after Romulus killed Remus in an argument... thus the Palatine hill... reserved for the most wealthy of Romans citizens... A mile square palace with an indoor 'bath-tub' large enough to hold mock naval battles... an aqueduct that brought water all the way from the surrounding mountains... a 300 couch dining room for all those Romans that ate lying on their sides... and a 12 person public toilette complete with a sponge on the end of a stick for the afterparty... very likely the origin of the phrase 'getting the wrong end of the stick'... and in between the Palatine and the Aventine the Roman forum where all business was conducted...
... Here where the senate of great men shared power for half a century... tearing down those that got too big... where Gaius Gracchus (Gladiator) was killed for catering too much to the mob... where Sulla, with too much power, enacted laws where another like himself could never be created and then stepped down... and where the triumvirate of Pompey, Crassus, and Caesar rose to power... lords among men... and destroyed the republic...
... Far side of the Palatine hill is the Capitaline hill and the Victor Emmanuel Monument... the Monument holding it's own grave to an unknown soldier... like France... once more presenting the power of a democracy... and the Capitaline museum... showing a statue of Romulus and Remus being suckled by a she-wolf... the legend hangs on one word... the word for wolf... 'Lupi'... was the same word used for prostitute... so it's possible these brothers had a much different mother than legend...
... And croissants on the roof overlooking the entirety of ancient Rome... their history, supposedly, as a tool of war... when the Muslims invaded Spain, the Polish monarch had his men make bread in the shape of their enemies flag and eat it... overcoming their fear and allowing them the chance for victory...
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