The white town

Traveling around had been quite easy so far.  Most of the places we wanted to visit were within a half an hour drive.  The drives were calm and scenic, and the roads were generally good.  The only blemish to all of this were the terrifyingly badly designed highway on-ramps which provided no time or space at all the actually merge onto the traffic.  It seemed to create a horror scene each time with cars trying to accelerate onto the highway and cars trying to avoid them.  I entered each time with fear and learnt quickly to stay on the outside lane whenever I saw one of the on-ramps.

For our next visit, we decided to go to the nearby town of Ostuni.

This was one of the famous "white cities" of the region. With most of the buildings painted in white paint, these towns stood out amongst their surroundings.  Ostuni was even more special.  The town was higher up in the hills, and the town itself was built around the top of the hill.  It made Ostuni look like singular complex castle structure rising out of the ground.  

Inside, the town was a series of tight and winding alleys and streets.  Much like the other towns in the area, it was all maze and labyrinth-like, but here there was the added fun of the steep slopes and stairs that needed to be navigated.  It was a beautiful place to visit, but with the stroller we had to be extra careful to not slip on all the stones polished by the shoes of countless tourists.

 

We wandered through the town, we had a nice lunch, we changed baby Pickle.  It was a calm and relaxing exploration of a beautiful place.  As nice as it was to explore, I felt that this town was probably better to visit fro the "outside".  From the outside and the nearby "modern" part of the town it was an impressive looking place. From the inside, it was still beautiful, but certainly not as unique.  It shared many of the qualities of the other nearby towns without necessarily having any particular unique feature.

Before we left, I took us down to the top of the "walls".  There was a wide road that ran on top of the first wall and at the base of the first level of buildings.  From this point, there was a completely unobstructed view across the plains and towards the ocean.  I had tried several times to get to this point from within the town, but each attempt to walk down I had hit a dead-end or enormous sets of stairs that were too much for me to navigate with baby Pickle's stroller.  I was only once we had left the old town and started walking down that I found the path that took us out towards to this road. 

It was a big and open area.  Surprisingly, it was almost completely deserted of people.  There was a small cafe built into the base of one of the enormous buildings and so we ordered so coffees to enjoy the wide open space.  With the small wall on one side and the buildings on the other side, this seemed to be the best space to let baby Pickle run around safely.

Alberobello

Our plan for our time in Puglia was to only stay in a few locations, but to then day trip around to visit the region.  We didn't want to be constantly on the move, to be packing and unpacking as we made our way from hotel to hotel.  With the car, it seemed to be a better approach to limit the moves, that would balance our rest with our exploration.  After a relaxing first full day, we went off to see more of the region.

Our first stop was the town of Martina Franca. Beyond having a lovely name, the town has a reputation for being a beautiful place to visit.

We parked on the edge of town and made our way in.  It was the beginning of a very hot day and we could already feel the effects of the sun as it seemed to bake us from both above and reflecting off all the stone surfaces.  Once we reached the old town itself, we were able to hide in the shade in the narrow streets and alleys.

Veronica wandered from shop to shop, browsing through through the clothes and jewelry on offer.  It was indeed a very pretty town, but the old town was quite small.  Most of what we were there to see seemed to surround a long street that cut through the middle of the town and ended at a unique crescent shaped piazza.  We wandered back to the nearby church and found a small cafe to recuperate from the heat.  It was getting close to lunch, so rather than stay we decided to move on to another destination.

We had the choice of going to the nearby Locorotondo or driving a little futher to Alberobello.  Given the time, we decided to skip Locorotonodo.  We had been recommended a "zero kilometre" restaurant in Alberobello, and given the time, we needed to move fast.  The short drive became a longer drive as the navigation system failed me completely and sent me down roads that didn't exist and onto turns that lead to dead ends.  Somehow, we managed to find a parking spot in the closest carpark immediately next to the beginning of the ZTL.  We grabbed the baby out of his baby sit, put him into the stroller and sped off towards the restaurant which was still over ten minutes away.  Ignoring everything around us, we walked quickly.  The day was extremely hot now, so we moved to the side of the streets with the most shade as we walked, oblivious to our surroundings.  We arrived at the restaurant with feint hope that they would still take us, but by some strange miracle they let us in. 

We were led through a small discreet door.  From the outside, it looked like a small shop front or even a home.  But through the restaurant on the other side we found ourselves in a huge garden.  All along the side were tables, shaded under trees and vines.  This was a secluded little paradise away from the rest of the world.  In the near distance, we could see some of the famous trullo style houses that this town was famous for.  By some stroke of good fortune, baby also decided that now was the time to fall asleep.

We ordered some wine to savour this moment.  For the food options, it was already decided for us and we were brought out course after course of all locally sourced produce.  As a "zero kilometre" restaurant, everything served at the restaurant was sourced from, the name suggests, within one kilometre of the restaurant.  The food was incredible.  All fresh as you would expect, but the flavours were intense and everything was cooked with that in mind.  There was a crunch and a snap to all the produce.  Each bite seemed full of goodness, full of the life of the region.

After our very satisfying meal, we slowly walked back towards the town.  In our rush to get to the restaurant, we had ignored all our surroundings.  Our focus had been on the restaurant only, so nothing else around us seemed to matter.  As we walked back towards the famous part of the town, we were shocked to see the famous trulli, all lined up on the hill. We hadn't seen any of this in our rush.  

From our vantage point on the hill opposite the main attraction, we could see the densely built up trulli.  Other parts of the town we had walked through had the occasional trullo house popping out and we had even seen some on our drive around the area, but this was the most densely packed we had seen them.  It didn't seem entirely real.  Everything had very clearly been built up and restored for the benefit of tourists and visitors, but there was still a strange and almost "magical" feel to it.  That words seems odd to use, but rather than trying to convey some meaning of how beautiful it was (and it was), it had that feeling in a more literal sense.  The small pointed houses seemed to be something out of a fairy tale book, or from a fantasy movie, like a village for elves or fairies.

We walked across to the other side of the town into the densely packed trulli.  It was crowded with visitors.  Most of the trulli were occupied with little shops, restaurants or cafes.  Veronica went in looking at the various things on offer, finding lots of lovely locally woven fabrics (which seemed to be something this region was known for).  I went exploring further with baby Pickle.  He seemed to be amazed by the surroundings, with his head turning constantly to look at everything around us.  Veronica was still shopping, so Pickle and I found some nice buskers playing music.  I took Pickle out of the stroller and let him dance around to the music, to the delight of the buskers and those nearby.

We walked all the way to the very back of the built up area and found a big park for Pickle to run around in more.  He seemed to enjoy the wide open spaces to explore.  Part of the reason I had arranged this holiday was my hope that it would give him more opportunities to enjoy the outdoors more.  Pickle soon made friends with a local boy, who's family invited us to visit their nearby shop.  Walking over, the pressed the small local biscuits into his hand and his happily munched on them as Veronica and I tried some of the local drinks.

The most expensive meal ever

On our first day in Puglia, we didn't do too much.  We were still slowly getting over the travel and the events of the previous evening so we decided to take a more relaxed approach to the day.  We walked around the town, explored the small streets and the coastal walk.  We drank coffees, enjoyed a lovely lunch and just embraced the beauty of the region.  We had been excited by the brief exploration of the previous evening and our walk through the town only seemed to reinforce that Monopoli was a lovely place for us to be spending the next few days.

For the evening of the first "real" day we were in Puglia, I had arranged for a nice and fancy dinner for myself and Veronica.  The hotel had a babysitting service available so I decided this would be a good opportunity for just the two of us to spend some time together.  The hotel was family owned and operated, so all the care and service we received was similarly a family affair.  The babysitter they arranged for us was the girlfriend of the owner's son, and they ended up babysitting baby Pickle in the home of the hotel owner as well.  It gave Veronica and myself added comfort knowing that he would be well looked after whilst we had our dinner.  After some initial anger about us leaving, baby Pickle seemed to become happier with his situation, no doubt happy with the pretty Italian girl who was looking after him.

For Veronica and myself, we headed one town over to Polignano a Mare.  Within this part of Puglia, it is probably the most famous town.  The town itself doesn't seem that big, but its renowned for its small beach with the bridge behind it as a backdrop.    

It was a picturesque beach.  Made all the more beautiful by its narrowness and the surrounding cliffs and buildings.  The beach itself didn't look that great as we stood on the famous bridge behind as we took some photos.  We walked through the town.  It was a pretty town, but it was incredibly busy.  It didn't have the same charm that Monopoli had and instead it felt crowded with day trippers and the tourist shops you would expect at most mass tourism locations.

The main reason we were here was for dinner.  It wasn't just any dinner.  I had arranged for us to dine at the most famous restaurant in the entire region, Grotta Palazzese.  It may be one of the most famous restaurants in the world based on social media posts.  Set inside of a cave in the side of the cliffs that opened out towards the sea, it was certainly one of the visually impressive places I had ever visited, let alone eaten at.

Veronica had dressed for the location, and decided that a mermaid theme was the best option given the surroundings.  It was certainly the ideal attire for the location.  With the restaurant and the hotel built into the grotto and the cliff, you could feel the deep connection with the sea.  We had arrived early and so we were able to get one of the tables that were closer to the water.  For those who arrived later, they would need to sit far further inside the cave.  With the price of dinner, I would have been furious with myself if had we been stuck at a table deep inside the cave.  For me, the point of this restaurant was to experience that interconnection between the ocean and the cliffs.  That didn't seem possible deep inside the cave. 

The gathered crowd was an interesting assortment of groups.  There were the couples having their romantic dinners.  Families enjoying their time together.  The occasional groups of friends.  It was an odd gathering of different people and the entire atmosphere was strangely subdued.  Veronica and I were having a great time.  I had long given up trying to be more civil in this place, and Veronica and I decided to take as many photos as we possibly could.  Those around us didn't seem to share our excitement.  Maybe the cost of the dinner had shocked the excitement out of most of them?  Many of the couples seemed to follow the same pattern.  A starry eyed wife/girlfriend looking around in wonder, with a less than impressed husband/boyfriend looking on with less enthusiasm.

As the food began to arrive, it was our turn to be less than impressed.

The prices they were charging were incredible, shocking even.  They were clearly very aware of the appeal of the location and they were (rightfully) going to charge anyone and everyone for the pleasure of being in the restaurant.  Even entering, they were strict.  The door at the street had the staff diligently guarding and checking the reservations.  There would be no simple "pop ins" to have a quick look at the view.

Each course that came could be described with a single word "mediocre".  It wasn't bad, but it was very ordinary for the price.  Everything felt like it had come off of a factory production line.  Even the service was abrupt and cold.  Again, it wasn't "bad".  They were professional, they were prompt and they knew what they were doing.  But they certainly weren't interested in building any rapport or relationship with the guests.  They themselves would have known that this meal would likely be a one-off for almost all of the guests and maybe that impacted their behaviour as well.

  

As mediocre as the food was, there was plenty of it.  The restaurant seemed to have decided that if the food quality wasn't going to be amazing, they would at the very least ensure that no one was to leave hungry.  Every course came with bread and was generally very carb heavy.  It was a small decision for them, but I did appreciate that they seemed to still have some thought for the guest experience.

  

We had arrived at about 6pm.  Early enough that it was still light when we were seated.  I had wanted to experience this restaurant and see the views during both the day and night.  As the dinner progressed, the sun began to set and the entire feel and ambiance of the restaurant changed.  Everything became more intimate.  The lights inside the restaurant shone brighter and there was a lovely glow of the lights off of the cliffs.  From the inside looking out, the dark sky made the cave feel less exposed and more like we were inside a large room.

Standing up on the walkways to the side and looking back into the restaurant, the restaurant looked like a little diorama perched into the cliff.  Contrasted at all sides by the darkness, it shone out as though it had been crafted and placed into the rock. 

Our long dinner was at an end.  We were tired and wanted to go back to see baby Pickle, so we paid and slowly made our way up the stairs to leave.  The way up definitely felt much higher than the way down.  Before we left Poligano a Mare, we went back to the famous beach one last time to have a look.  The crowds were now gone.  The town was busy, but the bridge and the beach were now quiet.

It was a nice evening.  It was also the most expensive meal I had ever paid for on a per person basis.  It was an outrageously expensive cost to pay for what was very mediocre food and service.  I decided that I couldn't think like that though if I was to maintain any appreciation for what we had experienced.  I thought back to the words of wisdom from Rick Steves about such travel experiences.  I shouldn't think about the cost as being for the food.  Instead the cost was for the pleasure of spending a lovely evening in the beautiful location, the food was just an added bonus. 

The difficult final leg

The final leg of the journey had been painful.  We arrived at the airport in Bari and everything seemed fine.  All of this started to change when we went to the car rental agency.  The car they had for us was slightly smaller than what we were expecting.  It was still a mid sized car, so we thought it would be fine. There was nothing larger in any event, so it would have to do.  Next we struggled with our luggage to the car park.  After several bag falls and trolley jams, we arrived at the car.  Here was where the true pain started.  Everything seemed fine until my attempts to load our luggage into the car.

It didn't fit.

I felt a wave of panic.  What was I going to do.  We didn't have "that" much luggage.  We had two large bags, a couple of hand carry bags and a baby bag.  What made it all difficult was the baby seat we had to include as part of the rental and the stroller.  Together, it still didn't seem that much, but it was just slightly too much from every attempt I tried to load the car.  Every change I attempted resulted in the same outcome, being off by only inches.

It was at this point, that baby decided that he had completely had enough.  It had been tough and tiring traveling for him.  He had been an incredible traveler up until this point, but now it was all too much.  The scream crying started in earnest.  I stood in front of the car, my brain melting as I tried to think through how to deal with the situation all as baby Pickle screamed.  I couldn't abandon anything?  I couldn't carry anything on my lap as I drove.  I was at a complete loss.  I stood aside for a moment as Veronica tried to soothe the inconsolable baby.  I wanted to help her more, but I desperately needed to find a solution to our luggage problem.  I only had one idea left.  I stepped back to the car and pushed the passenger seat forward as far as I could.  It seemed too big, but I tried to slide the folded up stroller between the backseat and the passenger seat and by the thinnest of margins it managed with some pushing to slide in.  It was a solution.  It wasn't a great solution.  But it was good enough.  I quickly loaded in everything else as best and as quickly as I could.  This probably wasn't the best approach, but it would do for now.  I got Veronica into the car and then we started off towards our final stop of Monopoli.  The trip was still a 40 minute drive, and the poor baby cried loudly for most of that time.

When we arrived in Monopoli, my heart sank again as the parking on street after street seemed completely full.  Baby Pickle had fallen asleep, exhausted from the crying and the stress of this car trip.  We had all the luggage to take out and carry up to the hotel, so I decided to get as close as possible and to try to stop temporarily to unload everything, move it up to the hotel and then go and find a parking spot.  As I approached what I thought was the hotel, our luck turned in our favour.  The side of the street right next to the hotel was miraculously empty of cars.  There would be no need to drive around searching for a space and instead we were able to move everything upstairs with relative ease.  Once upstairs, we all collapsed for a moment.  The exhaustion of the trip hitting us.  Baby Pickle was up and happy again.  Wandering around the room, exploring all the new surroundings.  We all showered and cleaned ourselves up.  The stress of the trip was now gone and replaced with an excitement for the start of our holiday.  It was late, but we were hungry and there was nothing stopping us from going out to explore the town.  

We prepared a bag for baby Pickle and we set off with the stroller towards the old town.  After only a short walk, I was already happy.  Monopoli was a lively town.  It had all the warmth and happiness you would hope for in an Italian town.  There were smiles everywhere, the restaurants were full and children were running around.  We found a nice looking restaurant.  The staff were kind and ushered us in without concern about how late it was.  They found us a secluded area away from the some of the other diners so we could dine in peace with the baby.  With the food promptly brought to us and lovely wine being recommended by the waiter, all the difficulties of the last few hours melted away.

A "first" trip to Italy

Being a new family had meant many firsts.  First laugh, first words, first steps, first visits, first holidays.

Some of these things had happened far earlier than for most others.  We had decided to continue with as much travel as was reasonable with the baby, and it had all generally been great.  There had been some parts which were tougher and there was certainly a change from what we had been previously used to.  But it had all still be rewarding both for ourselves and also for the baby.

With all of these positive experiences, we decided that we would try for another first.  It wouldn't be baby's first long haul travel, but it would be his first trip to Italy.

We arrived at the airport late in the evening.  To try and maximise baby's chances of sleeping, we had booked a flight for the early hours of the morning.  We did our best to use up his energy, letting him wander and explore the airport before boarding.  The hours ticked by and eventually it was our time to board.  One of the great benefits of traveling with the baby has been the lack of any lining up.  Be it for the flight, immigration or security, the moment they see the stroller we either get waved through or sent to a dedicated fast line.  It's been one of the great joys of traveling with baby and I'm going to miss it when he gets older.

Our efforts with the baby were not in vain, and shortly after takeoff he was fast asleep.  He took up most of my seat, but that was fine by me.  For him to be well rested was all that mattered and it would hopefully mean a more relaxed and calm journey for everyone.  As the lights in the cabin dimmed, I took the opportunity to slip one of the complimentary eye masks over his head to keep any stray lights from waking him up.

We were flying with Qatar Airways again, so instead of a direct flight to Italy, we had a stop over in Doha.  It was a pleasant break for us that gave us an chance to recoup before the final short leg to Rome.  Our arrival early in the morning was something new for us. We normally arrived in Doha when it was pitch black, so it was lovely to see the sun rising over the sparse and beautiful desert.

During our stay in Hamad International Airport, we cleaned up the baby, had some food and took advantage of all the facilities for children.

Our final leg was once again fairly calm and stress free.  There was far more walking around and far less sleeping this time, but that was fine.  So long as there wasn't any screaming or crying, it was all quite manageable.  Baby took the time to pace up and down the aisles, waving and saying a bright "hi!" to anyone who would look at him.  I was worried he would be disturbing other passengers, but everyone seemed to enjoy his presence and the distraction from the flight he provided.  Some passengers were overtly friendly, trying to talk and engage with him.  It was all lovely and he seemed to have a great time.

After only a little more than 5 hours, we were in Rome.  But this wasn't the end of the travel.

We had decided to go to Puglia for this holiday.  Instead of breaking up the travel.  I made the decision to white knuckle it and do it all in one hit.  So at Rome airport, we collected our luggage and moved over to the next terminal.  There, we waited our last short flight to Bari.

Everything had gone well so far.

A very quick return trip

We had been traveling a lot this year.  Some of it had been planned, but some of it had also been more spontaneous and unexpected.  It had only been a couple of months since we had last been in Italy for our honeymoon, but I was unexpectedly called to make a trip to Italy for work.  I didn't need any convincing to go, as any trip to Italy is a good trip.  In a bizarre twist, the trip was also to Venice.  I was bit surprised that I would be going back to Venice after such a short time. I couldn't help but think that I would have planned the honeymoon a bit differently if I had known that work would be sending me to Venice this year anyway. Maybe I would have spent more time in Sicily?  Maybe I could have used that time to go to Puglia instead?  All of this thinking was completely irrelevant and purely hypothetical as I had enjoyed Venice immensely the first time, so I was more than happy to return.

With the baby soon to arrive in only a few short months, this also seemed like the perfect opportunity for one last trip with Veronica before our lives changed.  I booked the extra ticket for Veronica and arranged for a couple of extra days leave after my work engagements so that we could spend some time in Venice.  Whilst I worked, Veronica assured me that she would be more than happy to explore and enjoy the city by herself.

For this trip, the best flights I could find seemed to be via Finland on Finnair.  My previous flights on Finnair had also been work and had been very comfortable.  I was glad to be able to bring Veronica with me this time.  The stop in Helsinki was short and we rushed through the beautiful Nordic styled airport to get to our next flight.  We made it in time, and took off again just as the sun was rising over Helsinki.  Looking out of my window, it was a beautiful scene to witness.  After the last few trips, I still hadn't stepped foot outside the airport in Helsinki, something I felt I needed to rectify at some stage in the future.

Arriving at the airport in Venice, we knew our way already.  We walked downstairs to the speedboat terminal, and were ushered to the boat taking us to our hotel.  The speedboat ride through Venice is one of the most amazing trips to experience in life.  There is no faster way to feel like a celebrity or rockstar than to be speeding through the tight and narrow canals of Venice on a beautiful old wood panelled speedboat.  We had enjoyed our ride out of Venice on our last trip and being able to do this again so soon seemed like an opulent extravagance.

  

Our hotel was in Giudecca, a part of Venice we hadn't previously visited.  It was beautiful to look at from a distance, but it did seem a bit out of the way and far from the rest of Venice.  After checking into the hotel, Veronica and I quickly went searching for some lunch.  There didn't seem to be so much on the Giudecca side, so we jumped on a vaporetto and went straight to San Polo.  There had been a restaurant near the fish market we had wanted, but failed, to try so we went straight there.  It was a simple little restaurant, selling cicchetti and seafood dishes.  The fish and produce were all supplied from the market directly across the street.  With a glass of wine, it was exactly what we wanted.

   

After lunch, we went for a walk.  We had no real destination in mind.  We just wanted to enjoy the ambience of Venice before I had to go back for the beginning of my work events.  On our way back towards the vaporetto stop, we saw the cafe, Rosa Salva.  We went straight in, sitting down for coffees, cakes and biscuits.  There was a strange sense of familiarity to be back, even so soon.  Before we left, Veronica bought a bag of biscuits to take back to the hotel as snacks.

In the evening, I had the first of my work events.  Boats came to pick us up to take us across the canal and to the restaurant.  The ride on the boats in the early evening was another wonderful experience.  It was a formal event and so everyone had dressed accordingly.  Everyone looked great and it added to the atmosphere of the event.

We were taken across to one of the grand old palazzos of Venice for our evening event.  Even the journey to this location felt opulent and luxurious.  This evening, everything seemed to shimmer.  The weather was lovely and the long dusk gave a soft glowing light that brought out the best in the buildings and the canals.

  

At the event upstairs, we had a sweeping view out over Venice and towards Guidecca.  With all the lights shining, it looked as radiant as always.  It was hard to concentrate on the work event, and I found myself drifting off towards the view.  It didn't help that at this stage my jetlag was starting to kick in hard.

As the event came to an end, some of my colleagues decided to continue and go out for the evening.  They were all Europeans, so it was an easy ask for them without the long flights or time changes.  I wanted to follow, but I could feel myself crashing hard.  I had had an espresso, but this hadn't helped and so it was time for me to make my escape back to the hotel.  There was still work the next day and I needed to get some rest to ensure I survived.  Others who were less interested in a late evening joined me as we walked downstairs to find the vaporetto back to Giudecca.  On our way downstairs, I was able to see the true splendour of the palazzo we were in.  There was a level of wonderful intricacy and extravagance to the decorations that was awe inspiring.  Venice was still an expensive place, but this palazzo hinted at what this city once was, a centre of commerce that dripped with wealth.

I still couldn't quite believe that I was here again, let alone here for a work event.  To have been brought to one of the most beautiful places in the world to work was a blessing that I was truly thankful for the opportunity.  As I reached the hotel, I went to find Veronica.  She was seated outside of a restaurant on facing Venice.  It was a serene and peaceful dinner for her and she had a contented smile on her face.  I shared a glass of wine with her before we made our way slowly back to the hotel for some desperately needed sleep.  

A familiar Rome

The honeymoon was coming to an end.  We had arranged our trip to finish with a few days in Rome.  We had enjoyed our trip immensely, but there was still an excitement for us to return to Rome.  Rome didn't hold the same type of new and novel excitement for us anymore.  Our seemingly frequent trips to this city meant that each place we went to now had a strong sense of familiarity. So the excitement we used to feel for exploring the new and wonderful had evolved into a satisfaction akin to returning back to somewhere comforting.  We had spent so much time in this city that we now felt a loving familiarity to the place.  Coming back to Rome gave us both a sense of returning to what felt almost like a home or visiting a favourite family friend.  It was a ridiculous feeling to have, and one that I felt very privileged to be experiencing.  How many people could have such a thought?  To be able to visit Rome and to know the place so well as to feel such affinity. 

I still enjoyed visiting all the lovely sites in Rome.  Walking the streets, at every corner there was an incredible historic monument waiting to be seen.  Standing in front of the Pantheon will always make me happy and fill me with a sense of awe.  Veronica loves the beauty of the Trevi Fountain.  But more than anything, what we wanted to do was to eat and to eat well.  

We had our list of must haves planned out.

For breakfast, we went straight to Roscioli for the pizza rossa.  For lunch, we went to Bonci and ordered as many slices of the various Roman pizzas that we could muster.

For the dinners, we wanted Da Enzo and Osteria Coppelle, with all the dishes we wanted already memorised without the need for any menus.

On the Tuesday, we also made a point to go out to the Testaccio district so we could eat at Felice.  The waiters were still a bit curt and mean, but nowhere near as bad as they had been the first time we had visited.  One thing that didn't change was the quality of the food.  It was still the best pasta we had anywhere in Rome.  As we had chosen to come on Tuesday, we were also lucky enough to be able to get the Pollo alla Romana again.  All of it was washed down with a nice of bottle of Italian red that Veronica ordered.

We had extra time on this visit before we went home.  Any normal visit would be taken up almost entirely with visits the the usual places.  You would go to the Vatican, to the Colosseum, the Forum, the Spanish Steps, Trevi Fountain, Borghese Gallery and so forth and so forth.  I still liked all of these places, but I had no specific need to visit them all again.  Some of them I would see just wandering around and because we would be visiting places in their vicinity, but not having them on our must visit list meant we had more time to see other things.  One place that I had tried repeatedly to visit over the years was the Basilica of San Clemente.  It had been recommended to me back during my first visit by my friend Pete, but each time I had tried to visit it had been closed.  This time, it was third time's the charm and we were finally able to get in.

Inside, it was nothing particularly special.  It was certainly a lot older than many of the other churches we had visited in Rome, but it wasn't the unique visual experience that would demand a visit.  What made this place special was the enormous crypt located under the church.  We bought our tickets and we went exploring.  The crypt is ancient, with a history dating back to the Roman Republic.  It was also had multi-storeys and felt cavernous.  Veronica felt nervous as we descended further down, with the small rooms in the back being particularly dark and creepy.  At one point, one of the attendants jumped out of nowhere scaring the lights out of both of us.

It was a very worthwhile visit and I was happy to have been able to finally see it all.  The benefit of time is always the greatest gift and I was determined to make use of it.

One of the more touristic places we hadn't visited before was the "Mouth of Truth".  It's strangely out of the way, with nothing being particularly close by.  So given we were heading out to Testaccio for a meal anyway, I thought we could swing by to have a look.  Veronica is ever the romantic, and I loved the movie Roman Holiday, so it was a good spot for us to both visit.  Arriving early, we were near the front of the line.  Within a few moments, the line seemed to grow exponentially and snake far outside of the gates.  The line moved quickly, and soon we were able to reenact the famous scene of Gregory Peck and Audrey Hepburn without the surprise. 

In the middle of summer, we spent our evenings at the Tiber festival. Wandring along the banks of the river, listening to music and taking in the joy of the crowds.  It was a lovely time and the mood was perfect for us both.

My feelings in Rome had reached a ridiculous level.  I felt almost guilty.  I never expected my life to reach such a point of privilege that I could not only come to visit Rome, but that I could come to this place with a knowledge built on so many repeated visits.  This was a city of incomparable splendour.  It was filled with wonderous things.  It had incredible food and drink.  It was a city of history, that had stamped itself on the world.  I wasn't a Roman, and I never would be, but I was thankful for the good fortune to be able to live for brief moments this beautiful Roman life.