Italian practice, then to Rome

Well, I stayed a day longer in Perugia than I had expected. In fact, I had every intention of going on to Rome last Sunday, but I delayed my departure after meeting Shiho, a Japanese student learning Italian at the nearby university. We met at a coin-operated laundry, as our clothes went through the cycles, we talked about the dangers of returning a man’s “ciao” (men here can take a simple glance as a come on) and the difficulty of navigating the steep streets in heels. When I mentioned that I had begun to overdose on pizza and pasta, Shiho invited me to her apartment on Sunday for home-cooked rice and curry.

Who could say no to that?

Of course, the meal was great (and much appreciated), but more than anything, the lunch was a wonderful exercise for our Italian vocabulary. Neither of us is fluent in Italian, and Shiho speaks only a little English, so you can image the two of us mixing languages and gesturing to get a point across. I hadn’t spoken so much Italian in ages and, with so many Italians at hand, I said it all to a Japanese student. We actually talked for several hours before saying goodbye.

Monday morning arrived, and I made my way to the train station and said arrivederci to Perugia.

The ticket for Rome was just more than 10 Euros, it took about two and a half hours to get there, and after reaching my destination, I once again began a search for a budget hotel. I’ll admit, I was in a weakened state. The day I arrived ? and every day since ? the weather has been muggy, and although the hills in Rome do not compare with the hills I tackled in Perugia, pulling my luggage up and down the cobblestone streets proved to be a fast-track to a migraine headache. After finding no vacancies at a couple of places, I pulled my way to the nearest hotel sign ready to take any room. I knew I was in trouble as soon as I saw the three stars on the door. I usually stay at one-star or two-star hotels. But with fingers crossed and sweat dripping down my back, I entered and hoped for the best.

I have learned that in Europe, the price of a room does not denote its size. For example, the 100-Euro room in Rome was about half the size of the room I had at the convent in Florence (38 Euros). There wasn’t anything special about the Roman room either, except it had a safe and a mini-bar with overpriced sodas. The bathroom was small and I got the usual sliver of soap and dollop of shampoo that seems to be standard. I could really use a free sewing kit right about now ? I have a wayward button and a few socks that need mending.

Thankfully, the same night I arrived, I was able to book a room at yet another convent, not too far from the Coliseum.

This room had some major differences ? some good, some bad ? from the convent in Florence. Immediately, I was glad to see that there was no bell outside my window, but later in the night I found it difficult to sleep over the sounds of trucks passing and the occasional argument occurring on the street below. Also, the convent’s chapel is on the other side of my wall. So, bright and early every morning I get to hear the nuns sing hymns. Perhaps that one isn’t so bad. Their voices are pretty good.

Other than the 11 o’clock curfew ? a half an hour earlier than in Florence ? the shower presents the worst problems. I share a bathroom with another room, which at present is empty. Inside there is a toilet, a urinal, a sink and a shower head on a cord attached to the wall. On the floor is a drain for the water, but there is no curtain or division between the shower and the rest of the room. Really, if I wanted to, I could hose the entire bathroom with water from floor to ceiling.

Since the room isn’t much bigger than a coat closet, it’s easy to accidentally spray down the whole place anyway. I have to hold the showerhead in one hand and wash with the other, which makes opening shampoo bottles and emptying their contents a juggling act. If I kept the showerhead in its holster, it would shoot water directly at the opposite wall. This morning, to minimize the mess, I did my best to wash my hair in the sink.

I said there were some good differences, right?

Well, it’s a cheap room, there’s a complimentary breakfast, and it’s fun to talk with the nuns. They’re a bit feistier here.

The first night in the convent ? after I got situated in my room next to my own private water park ? I went out to dinner. In Florence and Perugia, the two options for food were Italian or cheap Chinese, so I was thrilled to find an Indian restaurant in Rome. Apparently there are many.

Let me tell you though, there’s nothing like eating alone to make you feel like a freak show. For the most part, I get confused or sympathetic looks from the wait staff, but other diners tend to stare. Just a couple of nights ago, one man actually turned all the way around in his seat to look at me. At first I dreaded eating alone and powered through my meals, but now I’ve learned to pace myself and enjoy my meals no matter who’s watching.

Since I’ve been in Rome for only a couple of days, I haven’t seen much other than the Coliseum and the Forum. I’m looking forward to seeing Vatican City, though. After Rome? I haven’t thought that far. I want to continue south, so some research will be necessary.

For now, I’m just trying to enjoy the journey.