First day in Italy

Contact lens solution and sunglasses.  That’s it so far.  Pretty good.

With every trip, I expect to forget a few things.  Why not just build that into the plan?  It makes “mistakes” (what a judgmental word!) so much more interesting.  Every item forgotten, every navigational misstep (I always let myself have one for free) turns into an opportunity for recovery.  Here in Italy, we’ve already used the forgotten sunglasses as an opportunity to stop at an impromptu market on the sidewalk, try on a few pair, and purchase a stunning set of plastic sunglasses for the whopping fee of about $6.

Gary, in a totally uncandid (took 3 tries) moment.

(Finding contact lens solution—although on the surface a far more prosaic need—could yet turn out to be the more interesting adventure, as it will inevitably drag us into some exploration (starting with the concierge, no doubt of the commercial Italian health care vendors.  Pharmacy?  Apothecary?  Supermarket?  Who knows where such an item can be purchased or what it’s called?  But that’s for tomorrow . . . )

ANYWAY, here we are in Rome, sleep deprived (Gary is currently napping) but safe.  It’s the “get adjusted” day before the Holtzbrinck meeting begins in earnest. 

I'm named after Bacchus/Dionysus, the god of wine.  Cool, right?

After we checked in and unpacked, I wanted to just walk, so we got directions for the Vatican City, the closest tourist destination.   No problem walking there—even with a “Warstadt shortcut”—but once we were in the vicinity of the Vatican Museum, we entered a black hole.  We were not able to leave the gravitational field, no matter how hard we tried. 

It happened like this.  We found the old city’s walls and followed a crowd up the sidewalk.  At the top of the hill, it appeared we were going into the museum.  But we really just wanted to get into the city itself and walk around.  Gary asked 3 people what he should do if he just wanted to “get into the city and walk around” … and every explanation basically involved going inside, upstairs, and buying a ticket.  I was skeptical, but I’ve heard of weirder things.  Gary said they need the money (!).  So we went inside, went upstairs … and found ourselves in the museum!!!  Oh well.  Since we were there (and since the hottest part of the day was coming on, we decided to walk around and see what there was to be seen.  Gary feels duped by the Catholic Church.  I told him to get in line.

A big toe, in the Vatican Museum.

There’s just so much there.  It’s definitely not the place to come when you’re sleep deprived and dazed by the sun, exhaustion and dehydration.  I found myself focusing on the tiny details—they were as much as I could absorb.  A big toe from some colossal sculpture, he abstract pattern of tiles on the floor in one room, the fact that the head on the “statue of Sappho” was actually probably a portrait of someone else.  

Eventually, we found refreshment and made our way back to the hotel.  Where we both took naps—and Gary is waking up now.

This is how it begins ...

The Hall of Overwhelmedness.  There's so much to see!
So much to do!  How can we possibly manage?
No matter ... take a picture of the baby.

Bit of Egyptian funerary carving ...
a smiling cat sneaking up on some birdies