This is an embarrassing story. But here goes . . .

Thursday, Oct 17, 2013

12:15 PM: Arrive Rome Fiumicino Airport

We had only 24 hours in Rome in advance of my WOW! Travel Club program which would begin in Sorrento in two days. Just enough time to give my husband, Scott, a whirlwind tour of the Eternal City on his first-ever trip to Italy. We were staying near Vatican City, at a chic new hotel, the Gran Meliá. First order of business after checking into our upgraded loft suite was photographing the tippy-top of the dome of St. Peter’s Basilica from one of our bedroom windows.

Scott is a low-key guy who doesn’t show much emotion. So much so, that I have to watch for subtle clues to know when he’s excited. When he posted that photo on Facebook and wrote, “Room with a view” . . . proof positive that he was, indeed, thrilled to be here.

2:10 PM – Next came the obligatory hotel inspection with the sales manager. This is a stunning hotel, certainly something to use for future incentive groups. The architects and builders had created a posh, 5-star hotel within a historic structure built upon ancient ruins (1st and 2nd centuries AD) of the villa of Empress Agrippina, mother of Emperor Nero. But there was no time to appreciate the centuries-old relics they’d unearthed, no time for a dip in the pool, no time for a soothing massage or even for a nap . . . Rome was waiting!

2:35 PM – On every prior visit to Rome, I stayed at a hotel near the Spanish Steps so this was new territory for me. We got a map from the concierge and set off toward the obvious first destination: St. Peter’s.

I recalled my first visit to Italy in 1999, during Easter week. My plan was to go to St. Peter’s very early on Sunday morning, take a few photos and beat it out of there so I could rightly claim that, “I’d been in St. Peter’s Square on Easter Sunday.” As more and more people showed up, I decided to stick around for the Papal Blessing at Noon. My mother – God rest her soul – would be thrilled that her heathen daughter got a blessing from Pope John Paul II – even if that blessing was shared with 500,000 other people filling the square!

Fortunately, on this day, there were only a few hundred people in the square, most of whom waited in a queue in the hot sun for entrance to the Sistine Chapel. We snapped a few photos, which Scott again posted to Facebook.

3:05 PM – We’ve got places to go . . . so we set off, passing scores of tacky souvenir shops and kiosks on the neighboring streets. We could have snapped up a dozen rosaries for €10. Or St. Peters’ snow globes and shot glasses for only €7. And the uber-popular Pope Francis adorned everything from holy cards to coffee mugs to t-shirts to bobble-head dolls. No thanks.

3:15 PM – Just down the hill, next to the Tiber River, was the imposing Castel Sant’ Angelo. We paid the €10.50 admission and explored this 2,000-year-old structure, originally built by Emperor Hadrian as a Mausoleum for himself and his successors in the year 123. It lost its function as a tomb after a tunnel connected it to the Vatican. Then the Popes took over, using it as a fortress, a prison and a place for torture. We roamed and explored and admired the stunning city views from the top of the monument.

4:35 PM – Crossing the polluted Tiber River on a lovely pedestrian bridge, we admired the angel sculptures flanking each side of the bridge and ignored the phony Prada bags peddled by vendors who whispered, “You buy, you buy? Good price…” as we passed by. Having misplaced our map, we happily stumbled upon an incredibly picturesque street called Via Giulia, lined with tempting antique shops. But we were famished and accepted the invitation of a waiter at Baffetto Pizza who ushered us to a table overlooking a square and expedited our order which we wolfed down in record time.

5:45 PM – Tummies full of Margarita pizza, it was time to move on. My intuition told me to follow a lively group of young people who were heading down a side street. My intuition was right – we had found Piazza Navona!

It was dusk, just as the popular square transitioned from its daytime persona as a marketplace for street art to a busy nightlife scene. The lighting was perfect for photography as the setting sun illuminated the towers of the Sant’Angese in Agone Church. I snapped a street performer painting his face, an artist’s colorful paint pots and the facade of the beautiful Brazilian Embassy. With Scott’s help, I successfully negotiated the purchase of 10 matted prints of Italy’s iconic Cinquecento, the vintage Fiat 500 cars, which would be pillow gifts for my WOWees in a couple days’ time. Got the guy down to €4 each.

We overheard a tour guide talking about the lavish central fountain created by Bernini in the early 1650s. “It was so expensive that the authorities increased the bread tax to pay for it,” he said. (History repeats itself again and again!)

6:35 PM – Time to move on. We passed the Pantheon, another highlight.  I was doing great without a map! There was a full moon rising. What a perfect night . . . if only I can find the Trevi Fountain before Scott runs out of steam. Once again, my inner pathfinder didn’t fail me. There it was!

And there were the crowds. The moon illuminated the busy scene as tourists lined up 3 and 4 deep, waiting for their opportunity to toss a coin backwards over their left shoulder, thus ensuring their return to Rome. A tour guide once told me that the city government collects hundreds of thousands of euros from this superstitious tradition!

7:20 PM – We walked back to our hotel along the Via Condotti, the Roman Rodeo Drive, passing scores of luxury boutiques that would never see a dollar of my hard-earned money. As I strolled along, I was experiencing buyer’s remorse. Not about the photo prints I had bought, but about something that I didn’t buy. After all, how many people can claim to own a bespectacled, bobble-headed Pope? I told Scott, “First thing in the morning, I want to go back to St. Peter’s to buy 10 of them as gifts for my WOWees. They’ll love ’em!”

Friday, October 18, 2013

10:05 AM – We awoke feeling pretty good … with the help of Ambien that knocked us out for the entire night. Enjoyed breakfast and set off toward St. Peter’s, to the side streets with all the tacky souvenir shops. I scoped out the available options. There were plenty of choices for bobble-headed Popes. I finally zeroed in on a kiosk with a kindly-looking proprietor.

“How much?” I asked.

“Fifteen euros,” he replied.

I shook my head. “No, no. That’s way too much,” I said. “What if I buy 10 of them? What kind of discount will you give me?”

He paused. “How much you pay?”

I had already thought it through. Ten euros would be my absolute max. I quickly calculated … I’d offer him six apiece. “Six hundred.”

“Okay, okay,” he said.

Wow, that was easy. “Do you have 10 of them here? I need them all in boxes, and I need to make sure they all have the little wire glasses,” I insisted.

“Yes, yes. I’ll get them for you,” he said, as his partner hustled off to wherever he kept his extra stock.

As we waited, I chatted him up. “How’s business?” I asked.

It’s been pretty bad,” he said. “Everybody is cheap.”

I circled around to the back of his souvenir stall and framed a clever shot (if I do say so myself!) … of the back side of a naked David, sweetly caressing the Venus di Milo – as they gaze across the square toward St. Peter’s Basilica. I remember thinking to myself, “This could be a money shot some day!”

A few minutes passed before the assistant hustled back, laden with a big plastic sack. He pulled out a box and opened it, revealing the molded styrofoam packaging that protected the bobble-headed Pope, and the little slot holding his removable wire-rimmed spectacles.

“Okay,” I said, satisfied with the merchandise. I handed him the money, shook his hand and said a friendly, “Ciao, grazie.”

“Grazie, grazie,” he said enthusiastically.

12:05 PM – Scott and I hustled back to the hotel with the bulky bag. We’d arranged for a private transfer to the Tiburtina Station for our 1:57 high-speed “Italo” train to Naples. The driver was waiting for us when we walked up the long driveway and our suitcases were loaded in the trunk.

It had been a perfect 24 hours!

2:10 PM – Settled into our cushy seats on the train, I took out the memo pad that I used to keep track of notes and expenses. I recorded “40 euros for photo prints” and “600 euros for bobble-heads” . . .

“HOLY S_ _ _!”

. . .  to be continued . . .

---

Comments?  Have you ever made such an expensive blunder?