Day 4: Italian Boys are Idiots.

May 24th-

Our free day in Rome started off really well! We decided to go to Tivoli to see the gardens at the Villa d'E Tivoli. Jason took the group from Oklahoma to Florence and we sent Patrick packing with his relatives that live in Rome, and we were out the door by 9:00, ready to own Rome's public transportation system.

Our first challenge was the Metrobus (a subway), which didn't run all the way to Tivoli, so we would have to catch another bus. The Metro station was right across from our hotel, but it still took us 45 minutes and a little babysitting to even buy our tickets...

Walking through the station

Luckily there were two very nice metro-ladies who helped us out, while all ten of us clustered around them, warming up our confused tourist appearance straight up.

A few snickers and misunderstandings later, we jumped on the Met, four euros lighter. The ride went smoothly to the our destination, and after a few inquiries and more confused tourist huddling, we loaded onto the bus that would take us to Tivoli.

On the Metro

Everyone at the bus stop

Rae and I, passing the time

The adults and Julie sat up towards the front, and I sat in the very back of the bus, by the window. Rachel and Molly were sitting in front of me, in seats that faced each other, Seth and Sierra were across from them.

In the back of the bus:emoshotson.

The bus picked up it's first passengers at a stop about half-way down the road. Three guys threaded their way down the aisle and promptly settled into the back seats. One bony kid, with bony blue eyes and bony spiked hair sat beside Molly, another with sweet, stupid eyes and bad teeth sat beside Rachel, and the last, who was vaguely cute in a pimpled, irritating way, sat next to Seth.

They immediately tried to strike up a conversation with Rachel and Molly. They rattled out spurts of Italian and jumbled English words, asking if we were headed to Tivoli. Molly and Rachel didn't know what was up, I spoke up in the back, saying yes, we were going to Tivoli.

The boy next to Seth must have though I said, "Please, sit next to me in the back corner of this bus and squash me into the window, I'd like that." Because that's exactly what he did. In record time I had an arm around me and he was chattering about Mussolini (I think we passed his house) and told me that his name was Luigi. I don't think I believe him.

Then his friends started the, "You are so beautiful!" rants to Molly, raved about Rachel's eyes, Luigi kept stroking her hair, and I was trying to shrink. So much for 7 years of karate, though I don't think socking him in the face though would have been worth the ensuing scene. I didn't feel threatened, just imposed upon. But, I didn't know the end of the story at the time.

As their stop came up, Luigi squeezed my shoulders. I realized they were leaving and I stopped trying to shrivel up, my molecules relaxed, expanded and I smiled at him. It was an, I'm-so-glad-you're-going sort of smile.

And then he kissed me. On the neck.

I'm still trying to console my ego. Such an arrogant boy, slobbering on my throat to satisfy his erotic lust.

gah.

We made it to Tivoli though and the gardens were beautiful. The scenery, the careful tending of the fountains and plants was lovely; a tasteful mix of stone and vegetation and flowing water. I would like to go back, just to meander through there for a day with a sketch pad. It was very soothing to inflamed nerves. We also took a ton of good pictures:

The view

One of the rooms in the Villa

The story behind this photo:
We came across this statue of Artemis the previous day in Rome as well, and Paula (our guide) tried telling us that this statue was laden with eggs. I knew, I knew otherwise, but she insisted it was just eggs. When my group read a plaque that declared my suspicions correct, here at the gardens, I decided to take a gloating picture.

One of the fountains

Fountain Group Shot


Group Shot

Lawlz Rachel; so much for our serious shot.

The trip back was interesting. We got on the wrong bus at first, then tumbled out just in time, only because Christy was hopping around outside screaming, "OFF!!! OFF!!! OFF!!!" It turned out that we were on the wrong side of the street. When we did get on the right bus, it was crazy crowded. I sat up front, beside an old man who reeked of cigarettes. Better safe than sorry.

We made it to the metro, and while we were waiting for our train to pull in, a drunk, Italian speaking, amazon-indian-looking man ( I could totally see him in a loin-cloth, dabbled with war paint and a spear screaming, "YOU ARE BELLA, KAPEESHA?!?") started schmoozing on Molly, telling her how pretty she was. Christy put that to short order, so he promptly redirected his attention to Paula.

This guy didn't know a slurp of English, he kept babbling in Italian to Paula and followed her onto the metro. At first we thought he didn't understand our rather pointed, "Leave, we're not interested." comments, so we employed the help of a young italian artist (with fantastic dreadlocks) to clear things up. I asked her to tell him that if he didn't leave us alone, I'd knock him out.

The rest of the trip was spent with me feeling really bad about getting the poor artist involved, because he was chatting it up with her. In the end, Paula and I did end up running off the car, because the amazon man followed us when our stop came up.

We're all looking at the artist who you can't see.
The guy in the orange is the harasser.

Paula, being wooed

When we got back to the hotel, the rest of the day was uneventful. The rest of the crew returned from their Florence trip and family mingling a few hours later and we nabbed some dinner and went to bed.

Headed to Capri tomorrow!

-E