Cold

Hey all,

A bit grotty today with a cold; thought I might spend the day in bed, but the cleaners, and the fact that at least one of them dreamt of being an opera singer, put paid to that. So got up and had a couple of cups of coffee (for the antioxidants) and a cigar (for the Vitamin C), then wandered around aimlessly for a few hours in one of those weird slightly dazed head cold states: sneezing, blowing nose, wearing thermal underwear in 30 degree plus sunshine. Found the Dante Museum, which really was not that impressive. Then took some photos of red boots in a shop to email home – the shopkeeper was very understanding: mothers – all women – very difficult people – men are much better. In hindsight he may have been a little too understanding...

Went out for drinks last night with the model agent lady, who it turns out is quite the Florentine celeb, which I guess you would be if you ran all the models outside of Milan – a lot of interesting people came over to talk to her, including a couple of art restorers – one from some gallery in England, the other a charming American from the Tate. When not restoring art himself, the Tate guy travels around advising on the restoration of wood panel paintings, which he specialises in – was on his way to St. Petersburg to give advice on restoring something, but was a bit mysterious about what. Apparently wood panel paintings present particular problems in that the back of the painting, unprotected by the paint, shrinks faster than the front, causing the whole thing to buckle outwards. I asked him if he ever, just for the hell of it, advised his clients to “just whack a few nails in, hold the bastard down.” He said no, he did not. But now I have planted the seed, it is only a matter of time – it will be the scandal of the art world – you heard it here first.

A few interesting things about Florence (another of the people from last night was some famous architect) – there are no new buildings in Florence because you are not allowed to build any. You can renovate internally, but not knock down any walls. And if you want to paint the outside of your house, it has to be in one of a very few shades – they have a strict colour palette for the entire city. One more interesting thing about the psyche of the place – the model agent, who owns a business here, an apartment, is half Italian, speaks it fluently complete with arm waving, knows everyone in town and has lived here for 20 years – the name everyone calls her translates directly to “The Stranger.” 20 years.

Photos – a church, before they figured out the flying buttress – you can get some idea of how thick the walls had to be if you look at the windows along the left. The toughest looking sportster that I have seen – the owner was happy for me to take a photo, apologised that it was “just a prototype,” then apologised several more times for the unpolished state of the muffler. A random street shot, the entire Divine Comedy on one poster, and finally, someone saving space four stories up – the bike was held there by a hook and an electrical cable.

Am off tomorrow to the Italian family I will be spending the next month living with as I try to get my head around the language a bit. No idea what the situation with the internet will be like there, so if you don't hear from me for a couple of days till I figure it out, or find a convenient net cafe (or an even more convenient idiot with an unsecured wireless network) then that is why.

Cheers, B.

Nearly got discovered

Hey all,

Finally a night where I could feel air moving and the bed did not vibrate with snoring. Joy. Slept in a bit then chatted to Mum and Dad on skype for a while at a cafe with free wifi – have confused instructions from Mum about buying red boots. I will endeavour to do so at some point over the next month – can't imagine that much could go wrong with that little task, given my extensive experience in red boot buying. After I had hung up I was approached by an Australian woman who has been living in Florence for 20 years and has her own modelling agency. Aha! Finally! My big break, I thought, but no, she just wanted to chat – it turns out I am ugly, even repulsive – her office was just above the cafe and she had heard my accent through the window, came down to talk – was nice to chat to an Australian who wasn't 19 and drunk. She suggested another language school which she sends her girls to if the one I had already signed up for looked dodgy. She also said she would let me know about some cheap and good places to eat, which is helpful, since it is not like Rome here – you can't wander off in some vaguely disreputable looking direction away from the crowds for five minutes and find reasonable prices. I may even be able to get some pointers on the red boots.

Then spoke to K for a while, who was a bit down – did my best to cheer her up, which is only fair, given that she cheered me up the other day when I was morose. She is working four days and rehearsing all day on the other three and is basically on the go from 6AM till 10PM all day every day, so you can imagine how that conversation went:

B: “Woe is me. I am in Italy on holiday. The sun is shining. Woe, I say. Woe!”

K: “Just hang in there, dear. You'll pull through, somehow.”

B: “Thanks. I feel better. How was your day?”

K: “Well...”

Anyway, went to the language school suggested by the model agent – it seemed very good. Then went to mine, and could not get in. Was thinking about pulling the pin on the one I had signed up for, but figured they might be at lunch, so went back an hour or so later and could get in this time – it seemed decent, had a library, someone studying, reasonable classrooms, so the upshot is that I will stick with it and see how it goes.

Did not do much tourist stuff today – figure I have got a month for that, so just wandered around – found a place that sells good cigars at retail for less than half of what they cost back home – another point in Florence's favour.

In other news, think I am coming down with a cold – sore throat, sneezing, chills. This is a pain in the neck – went to a chemist, managed to finally make it understood that I did not want to buy perfume. After a moment of shocked silence they consented to sell me these little throat tablets I am supposed to suck on every three hours. Also bought some tissues, as I seem to have left all my handkerchiefs at home.

Am sitting down now in some weird little deserted courtyard writing this, as it is more private than trying to do it at the hostel. Have a photo of that attached, also more roast beef, with four fantastic cigars that only cost 26 EU for the lot (you'd be lucky to get much change out of 100$ back home), and a few other random shots walking around the streets. It is a weird kind of beauty – totally man-made – it amazes me that thin little canyon like streets with no trees at all can be so pretty.

Cheers, B.

Florence

Hey all,

Getting towards the end of the four hour train ride, which was a good choice – it has kind of ambled along, stopping at all these little places; the view out the window has been pleasant – there is something nice about traveling by train. Talking to K last night I realised my ticket did not have a platform, or even time, printed on it – figured out eventually that it was valid any time for the next 12 months, so got to the station early – stood in queue for ages only to be told just to jump on the train, no dramas, then after that read all kinds of dire warnings about validating the ticket – took a bit of messing around to do that. All unnecessary it would seem, as to date no one has asked to look at my ticket at all – I could have just jumped on. Assuming, that is, I am on the right train, which I can't be sure of for at least another 45 minutes. In a little air-conditioned cabin to myself, so quite pleasant to have a bit of privacy for the first time in a week. Feeling pretty chipper as the temperature last light plummeted all the way down to luke-warm, and the amiable snorer was less outrageous than usual. Promising looking clouds out the window at the moment – with any luck it may even rain.

Got rorted for coffee this morning near the station – but had too much gear with me to wander off and find somewhere cheaper, and even if that were not the case I almost certainly would have got myself lost, missed the train. Had one of my rapidly declining stock of duty free Cubans – locals seem to appreciate them at least – some random bloke walked past and in a thick accent said “Nice cigar! Nice!” before nodding several times in sincere approval – nicotine chewies, on the other hand, are outrageously expensive – they don't have the same passion for quitting - no Nanny Overlords.

Quite a few beggars around the train station, and even on the train, sullen gypsies who get on at one station, drop a bit of paper on the seat next to you while chewing gum and looking bored, sinister, miscellaneously pissed off, then come back later to get some coin. They don't seem to have a lot of success with the whole thing, or even to expect any. The street beggars (for the most part) have the air of professionals about them too, unlike the junkies who approach you for money in Melbourne, who at least really do look broke and homeless – many of those here seem suspiciously well fed despite the practiced expressions of woe, the plaintive looks, the moaning tones of voice – I went to give one money, got told off by a waiter for doing so. Default position back home is to give whatever coins I have on me – might have to change that here.

The “use whenever you want” tickets and the fact that I saw some teller machine thing that seemed to allow you to withdraw money against your ticket explains something that happened to me a couple of years ago. In an ill-advised fling of, even for me, stupid proportions, I bought a girl some roses online. It nearly ended up being a much bigger waste of money than the roses themselves were because about six weeks later my credit card stopped working – I called them up, and was told the federal police had blocked it. The reason was that some racket in Italy had hacked a bunch of websites, including the roses site, taken all the credit card numbers, and was using them to buy train tickets which they then exchanged directly for cash. They did not get around to using mine, just had the number – they were foiled in their wicked plot before they got a chance to use it. Moral of the story: if you are going to buy roses, deliver them in person. As an added bonus this will also allow you to fling them on the ground should she prove annoying.

It is now raining. I will be complaining about it shortly, no doubt, but for the moment: joy. In the suburbs of what I hope is Florence. Will add a bit more if and when I get to the hostel :)

Later:

Right train, possibly even the right section of the right train. Was pouring when I got in – hordes of Nigerians were lurking with umbrellas for people arriving from sunny places in t-shirts, making a killing. Found the hostel (fantastic – ceiling fan, big room, only 6 people in it – the toilets, with their seats and paper, are so luxurious I nearly took a photo) then wandered around a bit – it is so absurdly beautiful that it feels like it shouldn't exist. Could not stop smiling the whole time. Can see why T liked it so much. No wonder they all pay so much attention to fashion. The streets and the architecture make you feel under-dressed: for the first time in my life I realise I am a shabby embarrassment. At one point I almost tucked my shirt in.

Anyway, found the address to the language school – it has a plaque on the wall, so looking good – will head in there tomorrow and see if it seems good, and then spend the rest of the day wandering around.

Photos – a couple of views from the train, three photos all just around the corner from the hostel, and on, just around the corner from the Italian school. A significant improvement on whatever suburb of Rome I have just been staying in. Going to be hard work spending (only) a month here...

Cheers, B.

Last day in Rome

Despite my noble intentions yesterday, the second, or it may have been third time the amiable snorer woke me last night with his grunting I sincerely wished that he would choke to death in his sleep. This seemed likely – surely no one can sound like that and live; unfortunately he survived the night. So a bit washed out and grumpy today.

Came into Rome this morning and booked a four hour train ride to Firenze, which is Italian for Florence, or at least I hope it is, else I will be taking a four hour train ride to God knows where. There are a range of train options, many of them quite fast at about an hour and a half, then slower ones at three or four. I booked a four hour because it was cheaper and frankly the idea of staring out a train window for four hours appeals to me. Got a first class ticket, which was still cheaper than second on the fast trains, so hopefully it will be four hours in relative comfort. After that, wandered around for a bit, sat down in some fairly dingy square, coffee, cigar. Found some pavement booksellers and spent a while thinking about buying a huge three volume academic edition of the Divine Comedy, in Italian, complete with Dore's illustrations – was only 30EU, but I couldn't justify the weight or the space, even at that price. I bought too many books with me anyway; plan to read my way through most of them during the month in Florence and then ditch them – will put up with the weight until then. Already gave away one, The Windup Girl, which I read on the plane over (was fantastic), to some Brit who I found in my bed at midnight on my second night here, using my pillow (!). I took my pillow back without a whole lot of good humour; gave him the book the next day by way of apology for being woken up in the middle of the night by an angry skinhead... The street bookseller also had all these old racy pictures of semi naked women from the dawn of photography – they were probably illegal in their day – now seem absurdly quaint compared to posters advertising fetish shops within spitting distance of cathedrals.

Sitting at another cafe now, waiting for a call from K, then will head back to the hostel fairly early in the day, to pack, charge up the phone and laptop, and do a few more organisy things for tomorrow. So my last night at the Peter Pan hostel. Hope I have not maligned the place too much. The young chain-smoking bloke who did his best to appear ruthless when chasing away the lost dog (without fooling anyone (least of all the dog)) was friendly and helpful, and if I had not been so cheap and had booked one of the private rooms on the upper floors where the toilets have seats, instead of the basement doom (meant to write “dorm;” the Freudian typo can stay), it probably would have been quite pleasant I think. That would be my ideal hostel: squalor and chaos, with a quiet and cool room to sleep in.

The city at dusk last night was lovely – am about to wander back to the Santa Maria degli Angeli, which was such a nice space to be in that I want to do it again.

Photos: tiny cups of coffee, huge slices of bread without crusts. They eat a lot of crusty little loaves of bread here, but the more conventional sliced bread never has crusts, and is huge in comparison to home. Two of that church, outside and in – it might be the way that it incorporated older ruins in its design, rather than just levelling them, which makes it so nice, not sure. And finally some much more contemporary ruins, to give you some sense of the neighborhood of the hostel.

Cheers, B.

PS – spoke to K, which was nice, except that she lost all sense of tact and hinted at the possibility that I myself might snore.

Washing and a lost dog.

Hey all,

Had a fun little drama with a lost dog last night. It followed the group of 40 Germans, who turned out to be Indian Germans, into the hostel, and the hostel bloke on duty initially thought it was theirs, before realising that even Germans wouldn't bring a dog with them to a hostel. Then he tried to get it to leave, after it caused an enormous fuss with one of the hostel cats – eventually he bribed it outside with food. It stood at the gate looking forlorn. The hostel dude saw it lurking, shook his head, apologised to me for what he was about to do (I was sitting there, watching the whole thing, trying not to laugh) – and tried to chase it away – this consisted of throwing pebbles at it and abusing the creature in a loud stream of Italian, complete with arm waving. The dog wasn't buying it. After all, this was the same man who had just given it food, so what was a bit of swearing and rock throwing between best friends? Finally, the hostel guy gave up and walked away, muttering. The dog continued to lurk, and every time one of the hostel residents came through the gate, it followed them in, and they just assumed it belonged here, which is reasonable, given the pig, the horde of cats, the bats etc. It was quite an obedient creature, until it was told to go outside, so it ended up being dragged out on to the street by its collar at least a dozen times. It continued to lurk for a couple of hours, convinced it had found a new family, before finally giving up and wandering off down the alley with drooping ears.

Got woken again last night by The Snorer – it wasn't even light. But eventually slept in a bit, had a bit of a bullshit with some young South African who, after high-school, had worked until he earned a round-the-world ticket and had just taken off for two years with a total of 300 EU to his name. I pointed out that this was pretty ballsy, considering that I had more than that in my pocket as I was talking to him. He kind of grimaced, said, “Well, I didn't really think so at the time...” and then trudged into Rome to hand out his CV at various pubs.

Did the supermarket thing (tea is regarded with deep suspicion, is kept in an entirely different section to the coffee), washing, spoke to K for quite a while as we finally both got skype working with the camera's so got to see her and well as hear her laugh for the first time in a week, albeit in a jerky, blurry kind of way, which was nice because she has an infectious sense of joy about basically everything. Then lined up a hostel for a few nights in Florence, because the language school I am enrolled in for the next month insists on cash up front, so I want to scout the place out a bit and make sure it A) exists in the real world and B) seems legit.

Then came in to Rome, found this nice little knife shop I came across the other day, bought a pocket knife which the bloke in the shop sharpened up till I could shave with it, then just wandered off and got, well, kind of lost. Was kind of happy I found the place because I lost my original map where I had marked the shop down, so I had to find the place I had started at that day, head in the general direction of where I ended up when I eventually figured out where I was that day, and hope that I kind of got lost in the same sort of direction. After that I went in to various churches, the most humble of which (in local terms) is still awe-inspiring to an Australian used to weatherboard boxes and modernist excursions with all the transcendent grace of a K-Mart. In one, deserted completely except for some old priest reading a book, I prayed for a while – in another I lit some candles for various people. In another, which had some ancient painting of the Madonna held within this kind of explosion of marble angels, I resolved to hate The Snorer a bit less when he inevitably cranks up again tonight, a noble resolution which won't last more than 30 seconds the moment he does; still, the thought was there, at least for a moment.

Writing this at some restaurant in some alley – I splurged a bit on a real meal – roast beef, which in this interpretation is thin slices of cold roast meat, drenched in oil, which formed a bed on the plate which then had rocket and cherry tomatoes piled up on top. That was it - was lovely. Fired up the computer on the off chance and found a free wifi point that worked long enough for me to bash out a few emails, before it kicked me off.

Photos attached are the forlorn dog outside the gate, some ancient ruin with a busy street and a couple of dudes on a Ducati (which kind of sums the place up), another ancient ruin and archaeological dig in the middle of the city – you can see the modern apartments jutting up behind it, and the Madonna and marble angels. Finally, there is a picture of The Disney Store, just for a mate, who is a Philistine, and will be more interested in this than basically anything else in Rome.

Bit of a walk now up some long street at dusk, then the train back to the hostel, where I will post this.

Cheers, B.

A couple more photos on the way home – one just a view up the street I took home, the other of some huge space with a pillar pillaged from Egypt, and a crowd of people listening to, of all things, a Michael Jackson impersonator. Cheers.

Snore

Hey all,

I have a snorer in the bunk beneath me. By day he is a chubby and amiable middle-aged man from Canberra. By night he is an oaf who snores. Because I am on the same bunk bed as him I can kind of do something about it by wriggling around vigorously and making the whole bed shake till he emerges from his coma enough to roll over. I have only limited success doing this, but even so, the other people in the dorm are practically high-fiving me the next day. This morning his snoring woke me at 6:30 AM (!) through earplugs (!!). I looked up and the guy on the top bunk next to me was sitting on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands, an expression of profound and hopeless despair on his face, staring at the monstrosity grunting away in the bunk beneath me. Mental picture: a quivering mass of hairy flesh, with a walrus soundtrack. I made the best of it, got up and had breakfast – shortly joined by the oaf himself – we had a pleasant conversation, as he really is quite nice, at least when he is awake.

Went to St Peter's today – I was not going to take any photos, cause it somehow struck me as kind of vulgar, but in the end I did take a couple, which together hopefully give some sense of the scale of it. The first one is from the floor looking up, and if you look closely at the dark ring at the top you can just see people there. The second is taken looking down from where the people were in the first photo after I climbed up to it. All these places are amazing from the outside, but somehow inside they all feel even bigger. These people do know how to organise space. It takes over 600 steps to get right up to the top of the dome (the ring on the inside is only halfway there), many of them in between the inner and outer domes in this weird curved space that at times was so tight both my shoulders were touching the walls – I could not hang my bag off one shoulder, I had to carry it in front of me in one hand (have attached a photo of this, which kind of came out, but does not really give a sense of it, and it was not in the really claustrophobic bits because there were people behind me and I did not want to hold them all up). But it was well worth it for the view from the top – the photo of that view is taken looking at the castle that I took the shot of St. Peter's from yesterday – the castle is the round shape in the distance by the river and trees.

My legs were a bit jellied by the time I got down so I wandered off for lunch – have a photo of a Montecristo No. 4 doing what they do best in a little alley near the Vatican. After lunch I went to the Vatican Museum, the end point of which is the Sistine Chapel. The museum is huge, and so full of amazing things that you could probably spend at least a week there without getting bored, if it were not for the crowds of people – any more than about four hours of crowds this thick and I would collapse into a homicidal rage – I took a photo to give some idea of the kind of view you get of most of the exhibits. If I do come back to Rome later when it is no longer peak season I will definitely do it again.

The Sistine Chapel was definitely worth the wait, even though I was beginning to doubt it after spending hours shuffling along in packed crowds of tour groups and loud Americans with that peculiar combination of formal politeness (“Yes, Sir”) and blithe arrogance they seem to have. Managed to fight my way to a seat in the chapel itself and spent a half hour or so looking at the Last Judgement – K had phoned me on the way there and told me that the whole painting makes a skull, which it does when you look at it – it is not so obvious to be trite, but is definitely there, and probably why the painting mildly creeps you out in a way you can't quite put your finger on. Could not take any photos in there, but just google “last judgement sistine” and you will find it soon enough.

Also took a photo of a painting called “Trip to the Ecumenical Council” by Fernando Botero, which kind of amused me because of the extremely portly cardinal who looks like he never walks anywhere trundling along through the forest, looking a bit nervous about the whole concept.

And finally, there is a photo of what a Capricciosa pizza looks like in Rome. A few mushrooms sprinkled in one corner, a few olives in another, a slice of Prosciutto (I think) and a boiled egg plopped in the middle (I also had one the other day that had a whole egg cracked on a corner of its own). All their pizza's are like this – they don't really mix toppings at all, apart from everything being on a kind of Margherita base. They all taste absolutely fantastic, although that might have a bit to do with being so hungry – doing tourist stuff all day is hard work, which is probably why all the children you see being dragged around look so miserable – they would rather be eating ice-cream and throwing things at each other.

Tomorrow is an organisation day – supermarket, book ticket to Florence, book hostel Florence before I start with the family for a month at the language school, wash some clothes etc. So probably will not be much to write about tomorrow, unless the hairy black pig steals my clothes. The pig did make an appearance today – I saw it when I got out of the shower, following around one of the hostel cats, wagging its little pig tail, sniffing the cat's bum. Unfortunately I did not have my camera on me this time, so could not capture the moment. But it was exactly like the last photo, except with a cat in front, looking vaguely annoyed, in a bored kind of way. There was something about the pig's persistent eager pursuit of the indifferent cat that reminded me of the way people behave in nightclubs.

Cheers, B.
PS. They have these cute little bats here at night, like butterflies, if butterflies darted about really fast and had fangs and leathery wings.

PPS. I had two people come up and ask me for directions today, in Italian, which was gratifying – at least I don't look too much like a complete tourist.

More Tourist Stuff

Hey all,

Had a good sleep last night – a full 8 hours, so woke up feeling a little bit more positive about the Peter Pan hostel, and was even prepared to tolerate the toilets (following a minimalist aesthetic, they dispense with both seats and paper) – anyway, another full day doing touristy stuff. Started off at the Colosseum, which was impressive, but not overwhelmingly so for me at least (it is, after all, just a smaller version of the MCG...). The thing that interested me most there was the brickwork – I tried to get this in a photo which is attached – if you look closely you can see the bricks laid out in intricate load bearing arches, within solid walls (the photos seem to have uploaded in reverse order, which I will remember for next time). Then wandered past the Circo Massimo, where I guess the elite of ancient Rome once watched chariot races, or elephant races, or maybe just went jogging, or whatever. It now has all the grandeur of a disused quarry – it is the photo that looks a bit like a sunken paddock.

After that I decided to walk along the Tiber, which, being a huge river that runs right though the middle of Rome, is easy enough to find. Predictably enough I got horribly lost, was reduced to asking for directions (the horror) after an hour or two – and managed to eventually find it. Was lovely just wandering along the edge for a while in the general direction of the Vatican – also reassuring because even I can't get lost when I am walking along the side of a river. There were some people fishing under a bridge, which is pretty game given the state of the water, but they also had sleeping bags and stuff under the bridge, ie, they lived there, so I guess any food for these guys was a bonus. Will see what it costs to book in if the hostel reverts to form...

There is this enormous castle and museum on the Tiber, which I went to and had a fun couple of hours wandering around in, the Castel Sant Angelo – still not entirely sure what it was for exactly, but it was an interesting building, as was the museum – all these paintings of various patron saints of the place, all of them pictured cradling the huge fortified castle in their arms as if it were a lamb... The most impressive thing about this castle was the view from the terrace – the photo of the Basilica S. Pietro that is attached was taken from this terrace – definitely worth the effort. Wandering around on the walls I actually saw a backpacker in a park below who appeared to have taken up residence on a bench, and was sound asleep with all his gear. I took a photo, but it did not turn out very well so have not attached it.

On the way out I bought some Genuine Designer sunnies from a charming young Nigerian fellow who had them laid out on a blanket in the sun. He wanted 10 EU for them – I threw my arms up in the air in outrage, stormed off. He called me back, offered 7. I threw my arms in the air again, walked off, not so much outraged any more as much as slightly miffed. He called me back and agreed to 5, which seemed reasonable enough, and said “You are bizniss man”. Which was generous of him, considering he probably bought them by the box at 20 cents a pop from some factory in China. The prices here are extremely variable – anything obviously near a big attraction is very expensive – 4.50 EU for a coffee (!). Wander around the corner for 10 minutes and you can find any number of little cafe's where the coffee is .80 EU, or less.

Anyway, complete with new sunnies and feeling very proud of myself, I went to the Pantheon – this really is astonishing, easily the most impressive space I have ever been within, just magnificent. I did not attach any photos of it – I took a few, but frankly I am not a good enough photographer to do it anything like justice – just can't get the sense of scale at all. It was crowded, but the space itself is so powerful that it kind of puts the milling tourists like myself in their place – the crowds don't overwhelm the space, it is the other way around. Again, it is a church – I can't imagine what it would be like going to an actual service there – I assume they do have them.

Looking forward to another Skype phone call to K tonight, (my night, her morning). Tried last night but the Internet connection here is in keeping with the toilet facilities, so it was one of those “Hey, great to hear you... CAN YOU HEAR ME? ARE YOU THERE? HELLO? HELLO? Oh, anyway, today was really... ARE YOU THERE? HELLO? HELLO?” conversations, which do make you feel really distant. The net connection seems a bit better behaved today, so hopefully will work better this time.

The photos attached are the Colosseum, the Circo Massimo, homeless people fishing on the Tiber, St Peters from the St Angelo terrace, the interior of still another church which I did not mention above. Then there are two which I reckon are kind of interesting – the first is of the interior castle wall at St Angelo. If you look closely at the left you can see a souvenir hat on a ledge. I imagine two fat American siblings with matching hats having an argument, until one of them, inspired, grabs the other's hat and flings it across the abyss to the castle wall, where it will remain indefinitely. Or it could have just fallen there, but I like my story better. The other is a bit of street art – this has been stencil sprayed on to the background of some ancient statue in the Palantino. You can see the angel wings, but probably can't make out the words, which are “Here is Photo Opportunity Angel Point”. Cool. And it did turn a headless statue into a real photo opportunity...

Cheers, B.

PS: The friendly staff member at the hostel has just warned me that there is a group of 40 Germans arriving here tomorrow. 40.

Tourist stuff in Rome

Hey all – arrived in Rome and made my way to the Peter Pan hostel – and if you are ever in Rome then I thoroughly recommend staying basically anywhere else, up to and including a park bench, where it will be cooler and easier to sleep, and the drunks who mug you will be more helpful and polite (am possibly being a bit rude about the staff, but sleep deprivation will do that...) Anyway, paid in advance so am kind of stuck here for a few days and can live with it for that long – attached is a photo from the bathroom window – yes, that is a hairy pig.

Did a day of tourist stuff in Rome today – got off the metro at the Colosseum, which I did not go into cause the queue for tickets was several miles long – I bought a ticket for it at the forum today, so I will be able to go check it out tomorrow without having to queue. Did not really have that much of plan – just wandered around – it means you stumble across things that are not in guide books, like the first place I went, the Basilica San Clemente, which is, in Australian terms, an incredibly ancient church, which was built on top of an even more ancient church, which you can go down to under the church where it has been excavated, and this church was itself built on an even more ancient temple to Mithras, which you can also take steps down to – I even filled up my water bottle down there somewhere in a dank little room from an original Roman spring about three stories below ground level – cool.

Went to two more churches after that, both famous – the Santa Maria Maggiore followed by the Santa Maria degli Angeli, the last place that Michelangelo built. They were both astonishing, and really quite overwhelming in very different ways – the first because it was just so ornate, the Michelangelo one because it was so simple – two very different approaches to beauty, and both work because they are both developed to such a degree. Anyway, I lit some candles in the Michelangelo one, which is not a very Baptist thing to do, but, you know, when in Rome.

Given that it is peak tourist season the crowds at both these places were not too bad at all – they were both very peaceful places to be – in fact there was a service going on in one of them. Same can't be said for the Trevi fountain, which was infested with people – I kind of ran past it in horror – might be worth having a look at one evening if I come back to Rome later on, when it is autumn or winter and there are not so many people like me around.

Next stop was this building/monument to the successes of the Italian army, which was built in the 20^th century and is, even in Roman terms, enormous – probably a far more impressive building than it really deserves to be, given its subject...

I found this gallery on the way to the forum, which I had not heard of, but was amazing, and also a lot less crowded than you would think such a place should be – Rembrandt, Durer, Carravagio, a whole swarm of Brueghels. The Galleria Doria Pamphilj. Was just wonderful. The walls are completely covered with paintings, and unlike some of the exhibitions that come out to Melbourne there are no guide ropes in front of them – you can get as close to them as you want, could probably lick a few if you were that way inclined before you got thrown out...

Anyway, wandered around the forum for a while after that, which is a huge complex, a suburb in itself although obviously no one lives there apart from the ghost of Julius Ceasar and co. Was a bit late for a museum they have there so will probably go back in a couple of days. Wandered around, smoked a cigar, took some photos etc. Am now off to mentally prepare myself for another night where if I am lucky I will manage three or so hours of restless, drenched in sweat sleep. Have attached some photos of churches and a pig.

Cheers, B.

Leaving

Hey all

Finally got out of the country - after being hit up in the last 2 days for 500 bucks in tax by the federal government, 240 by the state government for driving with a mobile phone (you can apparently be booked for just having it in your hand now - you don't even need to be talking on it... soon it will be illegal to look at your watch) and then 120 by the local council for parking in a loading zone for about 5 minutes... If I hadn't been leaving anyway I was ready to start stockpiling weapons and become some kind of militant separatist. I stop in Beijing for the night, then head to Italy first, which is apparently run by the mob - but at least there are well understood limits to the avarice of gangsters, thieves and drug dealers; the same cannot be said for the Australian government. I do feel a bit sorry for the cops when they are in the process of giving out some ridiculous fine - presumably they joined the force with some set of ideals about serving the community, only to end up being turned into glorified tax collectors by Nanny Overlords...

Anyway, Air China is okay for a total budget airline - has little tv screens in the seats which work. Was relieved that my little movie screen worked cause the last time I was on a flight it didn't - a hostess moved me and I was just settling in for a marathon when some officious male hostess came and had a go at me for being in the wrong seat. I don't remember a whole lot of what happened after that apart from increasingly nervous versions of things like "Please calm down sir Please calm down Please remain in your seat Please sit down Please calm down..." and so on. Then he went and found out that I was supposed to be in that seat, and came back and apologised to me, as he should have, the animal, as he had tried to stop me watching TV and all I had done, harmless looking bearded skinhead that I am, was loom over him in mid-air with bloodshot eyes and snarl a bit.

Anyway, thanks for all of your best wishes and for coming to my going away bbq and thanks again to L and A for hosting it - L and A, for those of you who don't know them, are a charming couple – even on his own L is pretty decent, once you get past the limitless smugness and the truly shocking things he says about his wife behind her back ;)

Had a very nice dinner evening with K last night - was hard saying goodbye to her at the airport this morning - got all choked up about leaving for the first time.

Will write some more in Beijing.

Cheers

Later: chaos - first it turned out that the first flight actually stopped at Shanghai, which I thought was Beijing, and started to panic when my luggage did not show up, but then it turned out that we got off the plane, went through customs, wandered around in a big circle, got back on to the same plane with the same seat number, and then had a further flight to Beijing. Took quite a bit of wandering around the enormous terminal there till I figured out (ie, stumbled upon completely by chance) the particular counter I was supposed to go to in order to get my free hotel for the night. But I am here now, so all good, and in addition to reeking of cigarettes the bed has a little notice beside it to "Make life refused to drugs" which seems like sensible advice and makes me feel very safe.

Cheers, B