Prego!*

And we return from the Boot, excited to share the happy news that little FT is going to have a twin!  That's right, after a week spent in Rome, I have grown what can only be described as a pasta baby, and it has taken up residence in my gut flab!  We really couldn't be happier.

And now, onto sharing some highlights and lowlights, via a few of the approximately 8 million pictures I took:

First Evening

We arrive to find that our hotel room has a bidet.  Wikipedia tells us that this is like a sink/toilet that you can use to wash your naughty bits.  We stick to using it to wash our feet, and it actually ends up proving quite useful in this regard.  Also, we discover that the view from our hotel room is this:

Broken stationery bike equipment.  Would not have guessed that one in a million years; it's a good thing we didn't have a bet going.  Luckily, we don't spend much time in the hotel room (other than to sleep, which we do a lot of).

Day 1: The Trevi Fountain

If this fountain looks familiar, it might be because you've seen the famous clip of Anita Ekberg frolicking seductively about in it from La Dolce Vita.  Alas, we had no buxom blonde actresses (that I saw), but what we lacked in iconic beauties we made up for in rabid hordes of tourists in visors and fanny packs, as well as men selling bubble guns that emitted a high-pitched frequency.  Still, it was more than worth it to patiently stake out a spot to sit and enjoy the view for a while.

Also awesome: the fact that we came across this on one of the free walking tours that we downloaded.  We did several of those, and it was a great way to get an idea of what you were looking at (beyond, "Marble! Water! Naked guys!") without having to shell out for a tour guide that may or may not suck.  Plus it allowed us to go at preggo-pace (aka slowly and allowing for lots of toilet and gelato breaks).  I highly recommend this for anyone planning on travelling soon; Rick Steves has some great (free!) ones available.

Day 2: Santa Maria di Trastavere

After hearing from friends that Trastavere was a great place to wander around for an afternoon, AH and I decided to meander over to Piazza di Trastavere to check out the sights.  Gelato was consumed (albeit with several location changes to avoid the human ash-trays around me; seriously, trying to avoid second-hand smoke while pregnant in Europe is like trying to avoid sand at the beach), and we began to plot our next move.  Would it be worth it to check out that little church on the square, we wondered?

Why, yes.  Yes it would.

However, the evening ends on a sad note:

I get a splinter in my foot, and poor AH has to spend an hour with a needle, tweezers, and some rubbing alcohol trying to get it out.  Hey, we keep the party KRAZEE!!!!

Day 3: Saint Peter's

We spent most of the day at the Vatican museum (which I think might constitute a whole post of its own), and then high-tailed it over to Saint Peter's to gawk and gaze for the last 30 minutes of its open hours.  One revelation that I had while in Rome was that living in Paris has made it much harder for me to be overwhelmed by my surroundings ("Oh, that statue was built when?  The 19th century? YAWN," compared to my former existence of "These columns date all the way back to the 1970's").  But Saint Peter's certainly did the trick: floor to ceiling opulence in every possible direction.

And yes, AH and I attempted a few FT pictures.  For those of you who have been requesting a "bump" shot, this is about as close as we can get right now, and I'm ashamed to admit that I'm actually sticking my gut out in that picture.  I never thought I'd see the day when I stick my gut out (which I usually try to minimize as much as possible) the way that 12-year-old girls push their arms together in a sad attempt at giving themselves cleavage.

I would be remiss if I did not mention the awesome dinner we had that night at a place called Porte Castello, a little family-run place just a few minutes from Castel Sant Angelo.  It was unbelievably cheap, the service was friendly and prompt (when AH's grilled bass was brought out with scales, gills, and eyes that looked like they had seen too much, the waiter offered to de-bone it for him), and, most importantly, the food was ah-mazing.  The spaghetti with (cooked) mussels will quite possibly go down in my personal history as the best pasta I have ever tasted- perfectly cooked, rich but not too oily, and garlicky and spicy without being overwhelming.  Perfection.

Day 4: The Colosseum and the Forum

While we had a minor snafu getting our tickets (after waiting in line for 25 minutes, we get to the front of the line to discover a tiny, inconspicuous sign telling us that no credit cards were accepted.  We were 1 euro short in cash.  Thus a trek around to the other side of the Palantine ensued, where we waited for another 30 minutes behind the 10th tour group of French teenagers we'd encountered that week), the Colosseum and Forum were definitely worth the frustration.  Thanks to Rick Steves, we learned all about what an actual day at the Colosseum would have been like back in Rome's heyday (hint: they had to perfume the stands to drown out the stench of carnage), and we learned that the scattered rocks and columns of the Forum used to make up the temples and buildings that were the heart of ancient Rome.  Note: if you ever fall down a wormhole and end up in ancient Rome, do NOT attempt to pass yourself off as a vestal virgin, no matter how swanky their digs are.  They got dragged through town naked and buried alive if people found out they were less than virginal. 

Day 5: Good Coffee and the Catacombs of St. Priscilla

Finally, on our last day in Rome, we were able to track down Sant Eustachio, the espresso bar that came highly recommended to us by friends.  Surprisingly cheap for how completely excellent it was, I think AH's only regret there is that we didn't discover it sooner so that he could have had it every day.  They even served decaf cappucinos so that pregos like me could have our fix, too.

Perhaps our biggest coup of the week was getting outside the city to see the amazing (well, if you're a seminary student, or at all interested in early Christianity) catacombs of St. Priscilla, a burial complex for the early Roman Christian community.  AH and I were looking forward to booking a guided tour, but balked when we found out that it would cost 100 E for the two of us, and stumbled across some fairly negative reviews of the tour company.  Luckily a little extra research paid off, and we were able to figure out a good route out of town via public transport.  Our efforts definitely paid off: we were rewarded with an English guided tour of the catacombs and its stunning frescoes; my favorite was one of the Last Supper that depicted women around the table communing with the men (this was the 2nd century CE, and women's roles in the church are really still A Thing?).  Alas, no pictures allowed, so you'll just have to take my word that it was awesome, and definitely worth checking out if you're ever in the area.

While we had an unquestionably amazing time in Rome, as AH has said, some parts of our experience began to clue us in as to why Italy is having such horrid economic problems (glass houses, yes I am aware).  In addition to our little snafu getting tickets for the Colosseum (would it have been so terribly difficult to put that notice at, say, the front of the line?), the public transport left something to be desired.  To be fair the metro system is limited (only two lines) because there is an extremely limited area where they can build massive underground structures without disturbing important archaeological sites.  However, getting around the endless, depressing maze of the Termini station (the only station where the two lines intersect), you would think that you were at Chatelet les Halles, not a station at which there were only two metro lines, leaving four possible trains that one could take. TERMINI, WHY YOU SO BIG AND CONFUSING?

So while I think that taking up permanent residence in Rome would lead only to bald spots (from pulling my hair out), it definitely made for an excellent babymoon, a quite possibly-last hurrah of AH and I as a duo before we become a trio.  And if that last paragraph has left you in doubt as to my lingering feelings about the eternal city, let me remind you that I am well aware that I have gone from this:

And this:

And this:

Oh, and this, too:

Back to this:

*The irony was not lost on AH and I that for our babymoon we chose to venture to a land where the most common phrase that we heard from the locals that we interacted with was "prego."