The Rome metro is
always crowded, day or night. Most tourists are not used to such close quarters and that makes us easy targets for petty theft. We were all aware of the risk and did the best we could to protect our wallets. Large bills and credit cards were in money belts under our shirts and backpacks were securely locked.
One evening all five of us crammed onto a particularly crowded train. My aunt and mom were the last to get on because they used us guys as people-plows. American beef is good for something after all. A few seconds after we had stepped on--and just as the doors were starting to close--a guy standing next to my aunt stepped off.
For whatever reason, she looked down at her purse and, seeing that it was unzipped, yelled, "My passport! He took my passport!" She darted out of the train and we all tumbled off after her. I was the last one off and the door nearly shut on my foot. She continued in a sprint straight up to the guy who was quietly but quickly walking toward the exit.
He was average height with an average build and average clothing. He was definitely not Italian, however, and I thought he looked exactly like those shady guys that try to sell useless trinkets at all the tourist gathering points (Colosseum, Pantheon, Trevi Fountain, etc.). He was as surprised as the rest of us that my aunt would be brave enough to run up to him and grab him by the jacket. She got in his face and yelled, "You stole my passport!" He apparently denied it, and in a split second she had snatched the wallet back out of his jacket yelling, "Yes you did! You stole my passport!"
He offered no resistance whatsoever and immediately continued toward the exit. By now my uncle had caught up to him and grabbed him by the jacket as well. My uncle yelled something like, "Give it back! Liz, do you have everything?!" She said she had it all, my uncle let go, and the guy took off up the escalator.
During this vacation with my family I realized that we are each motivated to travel for sometimes drastically different reasons. We each have our own priorities and they strongly shape our experience, especially when that experience is measured in precious hours. When traveling in a small self-guided group you are forced to compromise and accomodate the priorities of everyone. More often than not, this will enrich your experience, sending you places you never would have gone.
Following my family, I was for the first time a pilgrim, not a tourist or student. The feeling is drastically different: you're part of the show, not a outsider; you're 'in it.' Even though you may never have even imagined the sights you're seeing, you feel a strong sense of belonging. It was an unforgettable feeling that I doubt I'll experience again during my time here in Europe.
1/8 the way up the hill. Ummm, yeah, I could hear that 'nice' old lady's snarls of laughter coming from somewhere down at the base. We had gone too far to turn back, so we sucked it up and trudged onward.
2/3 the way up the hill we passed through the first gate. By now we were painfully aware of why this hill has been used as safe haven for more than 2,500 years. This enormous gate would have been the perfect place for city defenders to pelt us with spears and drench us with burning oil.
The fat cat in the window is feeling hygge due to its warmth and the fact that it's looking out onto motionless bicycles covered in white fluffy snow. Supposedly the average Dane would be intensely jealous of that cat and would have a strong desire to go inside and snuggle up next to it. Interesting, huh?
