When in Rome...

Rome. Is. Awesome.

-the end.

I know every city in Europe is full of history. You can feel it in every cobblestone. But there's something about Rome that is almost overwhelming.

"That's where Julius Caesar stood. That's where Nero lived. That's where gladiators fought. This building has been here in some form for 2000 years."

On our first night in town, we checked into our apartment (a slightly awkward arrangement in which we had one bedroom and a couple had the other room and there was only one bathroom) and then we went straight out for dinner. We've had a problem with forgetting to eat on the days we travel...oops. after a quick calzone meal, we tried to get back into the apartment. Tried.

So I apparently am key-impaired. The door is one of those typical European ones, where the handle doesn't turn--you use the key to unlock and push the door open. Only it wouldn't unlock or open. For half an hour. We asked the owner for help, and she and her awesome husband came over. Of course it took them about 4 seconds to open the dumb thing. Since then, I always practice opening doors, like a small child...

The next day, we slept a little late and went to the colosseum. I love the colosseum. It's way smaller than it used to be, but it's still huge. It had this strange quality that makes it feel only large until you glance across the arena and see how tiny the people are over there are. Standing there and imagining what it would've been like to experience the colosseum during the games. Well, you know, without that whole people killing eachother thing.

We found ourselves a part of a tour group that had some great info, and afterwards they offered a "free" tour of the forum. The guide we had there was a British guy named Alex. If you ever go to Rome, get his info from me, because he's brilliant and knows everything about ancient Rome. He has worked at the Louvre, now he works at the Vatican. No big deal, right? At the end of the forum tour he offered everyone a morning or night walk through the "Secrets of Rome" the next day. It was expensive, but we like learning and Alex was a great guide, so we went reserved spots for the next evening.

The following morning we headed to the Vatican. I'm not Catholic, but I love the museums there. I'm pretty sure I hurt my neck looking at all of the ceilings. It's amazing. The Sistine Chapel, you guys. The rooms filled with statues. We wondered what would happen if all the museums in the world agreed to give the owner countries back all their art...so much art has been stolen or "borrowed" from its home over the centuries.

It takes hours to walk through the museums. I think we did it in about 3 hours, and that's not including the ginormous line out front.

By the time we got out of the museums, checked out the basilica, got pizza for lunch, and headed back to the metro, it was almost 4. The days go by so quickly here. I know it's because we are always headed somewhere, but I wish I could slow time down. I want to be here forever.

The night tour was spectacular. The monuments in Paris and Rome are lit from the bottom at night, so everything is bathed in golden light. It's like a dream. We went in a few churches, stopped in a few stinky alleyways....gazed slack-jawed more than a few times. Glass coffins, false ceilings, illusions. You know, typical awesome things.

And then it was done. No matter what city we go to (well, except for Milan), I wish we could be there/here longer. I could spend months in Paris and Rome. Years. Germany feels like it was so long ago, but I could spend years there, too.

"Meh" is for "Milan"

I expected big things from Milan. Fashion, shopping, pizzazz.

Yeahhhh, no. Maybe I caught it on a bad day. Or I caught all the people who live there on a bad day. Or it never actually has good days? If anyone knows, I'm open to ideas.

Milan just wasn't very fun. We visited the Duomo, saw the ginormous line, and decided to save our time and money. The problem is, if you don't go to the top of the Duomo, there really isn't anything to do in the city except wander around like a bum and eat panzerotti at Luini's.

So that's what we did...for several hours. It was a lot of walking. We rode the bus a bit...actually, maybe I should talk about the bus first. Ha. Haha.

So I have this really annoying quality called "honesty". I know, it's weird. Because who pays for public transportation? Well, me. "But its just a bus, who cares?" Um. Me.

Which is to say, instead of jumping off the train and sinply jumping into the bus and heading to our "hostel" ("hostel" being a reeeaaaaally generous term), I made my sisters search 45 minutes for a stupid bus ticket machine. Because Italians don't believe in putting them in easy-to-find places or telling you if you can buy them from the driver (nope). This is all information you're just supposed to know. I'll bet it's genetic.

By the time we finally found the ticket machines--down by the metro--and got to the "hostel", it was almost 11 pm. We were exhausted.

The "hostel" was above a dentist and on their Hostelworld profile they said they took cards. You pay a few bucks for the reservation, then pay the rest when you arrive. Easy...until the credit card machine stops working, and you have no cash. I offered the girl my last €15, but she said we could use the card in the morning.

The room was, well, it was a room. It had beds. For color, it had mold in the shower. Which was in the corner of the room. We took one look at it and decided showers could wait until we got to Rome. Seriously, it was so gross. The heating in the room was broken, the walls were paper thin, and the toilet only flushed when you pressed down on the screw they jerry-rigged in the open top of the water tank.

Given that this space was the second step of our introduction to Milan, I'm not surprised that they next day didn't impress us. The card machine wasn't working, so I had to wander around the block looking for an atm. The whole ordeal was so "fun" that after panzerotti, we went and sat in the train station until it was time to go to Rome.

Now. Panzerotti. You guys. EAT THEM. It's like a donut and a calzone had a baby. The best, most delicious baby ever. The dough is slightly sweet, raised, fluffy, and I could eat it forever. They fill it with pizza-type toppings and if you only get one you are cheating yourself out of true happiness. EAT DOZENS OF THEM.

And that's it. Milan was a delicious meal, a pretty cathedral, and a train station. I'm just gonna pretend none of the rest ever happened.

Why I Love Paris and You Should, Too

Reasons I love Paris:

1. It's pretty. The mix of old and new makes it look like buildings have popped up looking like that for hundreds of years.

2. The history. Oh, that building? That's where we kept our queen before killing her. That one? That's where a famous thing was made. This old thing? Oh, we used it 300 years ago to symbolize the relationship with so-and-so. No big deal, you guys.

3. The people. Yes, you read that right. Imagine living in one of the most touristy areas on the planet. How would you treat idiot tourists who ruin all the fun things you like to do? I'm actually impressed with Parisians for not being rude. They almost all speak English and one or two other languages, and they're willing to help you figure out where to eat and what to see. What they don't like is when they do something nice for you and you either ignore it or don't say thank you.

4. Pastries.

5. 4€ bottles of wine that taste like heaven.

6. How everyone essentially wears the same outfit every day (especially the women) and no one seems to notice or care. It's so easy to get dressed in the morning. Black skinny jeans, long, black coat, black ankle boots, purse? Check and done.

7. When a guy in France checks you out, if you don't acknowledge him or don't respond when he says something, he doesn't cuss you out or tell you to smile at him (which is what happens in the States). He just shrugs and goes about his business.

8. All the things.