A SLIGHTLY INAPPROPRIATE TRAVEL BLOG.

The bed was round.
With a hot tub next to it.
Was it a hotel?
Or a brothel.
We were drinking wine when we booked it.
When in Rome…
Except we weren’t in Rome.
Yet.
We were home.
On Expedia.
Planning our empty nester…
Eat, Pray, Love-ish trip.
To Roma.
A friend said…
Rome is a lasagna.
Layers of lions and tigers and gladiators.
Layers of history, beauty and cruelty.
Like a lasagna.
With real formaggio parmigiano.
I know our room sounds cheesy.
But it’s not.
It’s the funkiest hotel in Rome.
The Suite Sistina.
Near the Spanish Steps.
I may need a 12 step…
Or maybe just an 8 step program…
I’m addicted to Italy.
I loved being in our cool hotel.
Taking a warm shower with a view of the city.
Later it did occur to me…
If I could see the city…
The city could possibly see me.
I did cover up for The Vatican.
Shoulders and knees can not be seen.
I said to my husband “I hope I brought something appropriate”
He said “You don’t own anything appropriate.”
I wore the longest skirt I’ve worn since my pleated Catholic school girl uniform.
I pleaded with my husband to go St Peter’s…
Twice.
Once to see the Pope.
Once to see the remains of St Peter.
The Pope sees the public every Wednesday.
The last time I was in Rome I went with two friends.
We went to see John Paul II.
The day before I’d written a prayer request.
We were told the prayers would be given to The Pope.
I wrote…
Pray for peace & joy for our families.
That night at a restaurant…
A man was in the ladies room.
Not praying.
But playing with his own prosciutto.
I noticed his platinum Billy Idol type hair.
Then looked away.
Then ran away.
The next day we went to see the Pope.
We saw…
The guy with the Billy Idol hair.
Perhaps seeking forgiveness for what he did the toilette.
Pope John Paul II spoke in eight languages.
He said one thing in English.
He said…
I pray for peace & joy for your families.
My girlfriends will verify this story if you heathens don’t believe me.
This trip…
No Billy Idol look-alike.
But one dope Pope.
Pope Francis doesn’t stay on the stage set up for him.
He dives into the Catholic mosh pit.
It’s like Popeapalooza.
Next day…
Back to the Vatican.
For a tour.
Not of what I heard an American girl call…
The 16 chapel.
We went to see the catacombs below St Peter’s.
To see the bones of St Peter.
His remains are under the altar.
You can look up and see the altar.
I could almost see The Pope.
He was above us saying a mass for the guests of Mother Teresa.
The underground tour is called the Scavi tour.
They take only a few people at a time.
But anyone can sign up on online ahead of time.
When in Rome…
Obviously I revert back to being a Catholic school girl.
Except with longer skirts.
I tried to roll up my uniform in school.
But if the nuns saw your knees…
You had to kneel in frozen peas.
I swear I saw those nuns from home.
Checking skirts in Rome.
There are almost 1,000 churches in Rome.
And almost 1,000 restaurants.
The best restaurant in Rome.
Isn’t even a restaurant.
It’s a counter.
Called La Prosciutteria.
Don’t send your vegan friends.
Tiny place.
Big tip jar…
That says…
Tips for the waitress with the fake boobs.
And tips for the waitress with the fake hair.
Here’s a tip…
Go there.
And here’s another tip…
If you take a shower by the not cheesy hot tub by your round bed…
Close the curtain.
The lasagna may be watching.