Rome Part 2, the final day

Rome Part 2

October 3, 2012

It is day 13 of the tour, our last.  We are going to experience ancient Rome, so we head to the Coliseum.  There, it’s crowded insanely, like the Vatican was.  We meet another adorable local guide who will teach us about the history of these structures and monuments.  She is charming and pretty and her accent is captivating.  It’s exhausting though, since it’s very hot and humid.  There are a LOT of stairs here.  We climb and climb and climb.  Everybody is a trouper.  We see also the Roman Forum and Pantheon.  It’s rich in history and significance.  We split up at the Pantheon, with various instructions for getting back to the hotel.  I find Cindy and she has an excellent internal compass, so I stick to her like superglue since the various instructions have all combined into one big melange for me.

We have a few hours in the afternoon on our own, before we take the city bus to dinner. We go as a group to a restaurant recommended by Rick Steves and it’s amazing.  The food is GREAT, and they sell us some wine called “sexy wine” and it’s really a nice sweet after dinner wine. I keep getting sentimental, knowing we are parting soon.  My chest feels heavy and there is the weight of sorrow enfolding me.  I try to be invisible.  I go into the bathroom and sit on the toilet to pee.  There is no toilet paper. 

After lunch we part ways again, and Cindy suggests we take City Bus #40 to return to our hotel.  I need a little down time to process my feelings (and use the bidet), so I say yes.  We cross the street in death defying moves trying to get on the correct side of the street to catch the bus going in the correct direction.  Friendly Italian locals help us out.  Oh look, good here is the bus.  We enter.

Holy cow folks, that bus experience was CRAZY!  Take one bus intended for 50 people, and cram 150 people into it, and you get the idea.  At one stop this lady enters the bus with a full on baby stroller, loaded down with a giant garbage bag full of stuff, a ride-on toy strapped to the top and the baby strapped on to her!  Everybody parts the waters and lets her on.  The group has to cram together VERY close, and more and more and more people enter.  I am cracking up, I can’t believe it.  Cindy is cracking up.  The bus bumps and jiggles and stops and turns, and more and more people keep entering.  It was like a metaphysical experience, how many bodies can you fit into this ONE bus?  Wild, and it cheered me up and out of my funk.

Later that evening, it’s time to meet for our last dinner out on the town.  Stephen suggests we take city bus #40 and Cindy and I give each other “the look” cuz we can’t believe it!  So we get round 2 on the bus and it’s less crowded, but still metaphysical and we wind up somewhere, but I can’t see over the herd of bodies, so I don’t frankly know where we were.  Downtown Rome I guess.  The dinner is outdoors, and everyone lines up in long rows to sit.  It’s so difficult, it’s our last meal, we all want to sit with everyone.  The food comes in many courses naturally, one after the other, amazing and delicious.

After the meal ends, we share drinks and dessert and we are guided to stand and speak some final parting thoughts to the group who met just 2 weeks ago as strangers.  It’s unbelievable.  One by one we hear of gratitude, of joy, of belonging, of connection, of kindness, of love, and there are tears and inadequate words.  Stephen says we are the “sweetest tour group” he’s had.  He means that there is genuine caring amongst the members.  There is, sincerely.  I say my piece and then later can’t recall what I said.  I suppose that happens to everyone.  It bothers me. 


Anita hasn’t been feeling well, but she comes through and expresses all of her positive emotions and gratitude for the help she received.  Her husband Gary says he loves us all.  Ellen surprises me by becoming tearful, and I am moved by that, because she’s an ER nurse, and they’re usually pretty tough cookies.  Her husband Frank has facilitated the group completion of a lovely thank-you card for Stephen and it features a photo of a bunch of monkeys on a bus.  Stephen laughs, he loves it.  Frank has written words of gratitude in 3 languages.  It is genius.  Someone presents Stephen with a bottle of “sexy wine” from our lunch earlier, and Stephen loves that too.  We all share it.  Afterwards, Marilyn pulls me into a hug and I can’t let go, and I begin to weep.  She says she sensed a broken heart when I had my turn to speak, and she doesn’t know the cause but she wants to pray over me. She does, and I feel my spirit comforted.

After that we all take another long moonlit walk through Rome at night.  It’s very warm, still quite humid and there are more stairs, and more cobblestones, and we're “just around the corner folks” and laughing, and good spirits.  We come to the Trevi fountain.  It’s gorgeous and mysteriously lit in glowing gold.  I love it, but can barely see it cuz there are about a thousand people around it, all flashing photos and crowding.  We take pictures of each other throwing in a coin, and have to fake some of them, to get the photo right.  It’s okay.  We’re having a lot of fun doing it. 

There is a legend about the Trevi fountain that says if you throw 1 coin into the fountain, you will return.  If you throw in 2, you will get married and if you throw 3, you will get divorced.  I have to stop and think about this.  I’m already divorced; would like to return to the fountain, and someday be remarried, but I’m worried about the math, because tossing in 1 + 2 coins = 3 which adds up to divorce again and I’m not going through that.  I’m in a conundrum over what to do.  I need an accountant.  I decide to start with 1 coin and toss in a 2^nd one next time I visit Trevi fountain.  So I turn my back to the fountain and toss……… clank!  Crap, it hit the ground just about a foot shy of the water.  Great.  Now what do I do?  Does that one count?  I toss another and it lands in the pool.  So did I toss in one or two, or what?  Don’t go purchasing a wedding gift yet, just in case. 

Stephen says the tour is buying us all 2 scoops of gelato, if we just go “right around this corner” to the gelato store.  Oh wait, hmmm, it’s not there, so let’s go this way, then wait, hold on a sec, and he consults the map with the error on it.  He’s lost.  I love it.  Stephen is lost.  It’s just all over the top.  “I’m not lost” he says.  We scurry on, this way and that, and the gelato store comes into view and Stephen breaks into a huge smile.  “See I told you I wasn’t lost” he announces.  The gelato is out-of-this-world.  We head back to our hotel, passing lots of amazing architecture and huge intricately constructed buildings just tucked into these tiny streets, and you never know what’s around the next turn.  It’s off the hook; the energy in Rome is vibrating, even at nearly midnight.  Upon arrival at the hotel, Stephen says it’s time for final goodbyes.  Let the waterworks begin.

It doesn’t seem possible to say goodbye.  Thank goodness for the internet.  Poor Stephen tries to say goodbye to as many of the 28 people as he can.  I don’t really get a chance.  Everyone is hugging and hot and sweaty and worried about packing up.  Some have to leave for the airport in just a few hours.  There are tears, and many words of affection.  Everyone seems tired and ready to go home, but unready to let go of each other.  It’s beautiful.  I get many invitations to come stay at other people’s houses, for a visit.  Some people tell me “Love you” and they seem sincere. Vicki wants to pray over me, so we try and find a quiet place and are unable, and I don’t care, I want to pray openly.  We do.  There is deep affection and maybe healing.  After that we all stumble off to our rooms to pack up and sleep.  It’s well over an hour before I can doze off.  In 3 hours the alarm will go off and I must dress for the airport.  A 20 hour journey home awaits me. 

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