Exploring the backstreets of Rome and Barcelona... in March

We are not conventional tourists. We actually, I suppose like most tourists, hate tourists. We try to avoid them wherever possible. We avoid the tourists and all the people geared at providing for the tourists, we rarely buy fridge magnets or postcards, and never souvenirs, our photos are our memories. Having said this however, we recently visited one of the most frequented cities in the world, if not the most popular destination in Europe for tourists. Rome.

So why did we choose Rome? For a little back ground, I seem to have developed a bit of a reputation (from Adam) as being the worst gift giver. For our first Christmas together, we were already living together, so it wasn't supposed to be regarded as a token gift, I got him a shirt. He is not a selfish person, not greedy or in anyway unkind, but he won't let me live it down. It was a French Connection T-shirt by the way, nothing fancy. Anyway, for his birthday I got him a watch, which was supposed to be a surprise, we walked past a jeweler and he'd noticed it, so I went in the following week to get it for his birthday, the following month. The problem was, we only had one key to our apartment, and when he let me in I had a stupid big grin on my face. "What's that, what's in the bag?" "Nothing, it's a secret." How dumb am I? So he ended up with nothing on his birthday but a watch a month early. That Christmas he got nothing, as we were living in Queen Charlotte Sound in New Zealand, and the closest shops were 3 hours away (by boat).

So why Rome, well, I chose Rome as we had never been there, neither of us. The idea started in October last year, Adam had been talking about going to a Man United Football (Soccer) match for a while and I thought, maybe I can buy the tickets and tell him we are going to Manchester for the weekend, and make him get in the taxi to the stadium. Then I remembered that Adam has been talking about visiting Barcelona for months. We almost made it there last year when we were in Andorra, but the engine light came on in our car and we high tailed it to England, and missed out. So, I thought, how can I combine going to a Man United game and Barcelona, and then the penny dropped. We go to a FC Barcelona match. It took about a 2 months to decide the ins and outs. Immediately, as soon as I had the idea, I booked the time off work (we both work in the same hotel, so as much notice as possible is required). 

Originally I thought about taking Adam to Lisbon, I loved Portugal, I have been there a few times to the north, south and in the country side too, and I thought Adam would enjoy Lisbon as much as I did. And then I thought about Madrid, once again I LOVED Madrid, and I knew I could show him around, then I thought, we might be leaving Europe soon, and it'd be nice to go somewhere neither of us had been. Rome. We'd both been to Northern Italy a few times, Venice and Lake Como in particular are our favourites. 

I managed to keep the gift (mostly) a surprise until Christmas day. I'd accidentally logged into his booking.com account when looking at different places to stay in Madrid, Lisbon and Rome, so he knew we were going somewhere but all the different destinations were confusing him. Leading up to Christmas I made a little scrapbook for him, with pictures of all the different places we were going and what we would do their. Eat pizza, drink Sangria, visit the Vatican. 

We spent the weekend before we flew out with Adam's brother in Wales, so by the time it came fly out we were pooped. We dropped his brother off at Manchester airport in the evening on Tuesday night and checked into our budget hotel in anticipation of our early morning flight the next morning. We sat down to dinner at about 7pm, and he called Adam saying they'd been taken off the flight, and they wouldn't fly out til the morning. We hopped they could come to our hotel and we could all have another night together, but the airline had organised somewhere elsewhere. 

The following morning we got up at 3:30am and drove to Adam's brothers hotel to pick them up, their flight was due to leave 5 minutes after ours, and it was nice to see them again. (It could be months til we are all together again). Despite having made the plans almost 6 months in advance, and having 3 months with Adam knowing about the trip also, we were surprisingly unprepared on our arrival to Rome airport. We didn't know which bus to take into the city, nor did we know where we were going in the city center, or how to get there. 

We arrived at the hotel at 1:30pm, after a few errors. To start with we LOOKED LIKE TOURISTS. Big rucksack for one, and completely lost looks on our faces doing laps of the termini, do we get a regional train? a local train? a bus? A lady, who actually looked like train station staff, approached us, asking if we needed help, and she couldn't have been more right, about a second after we smiled, relaxed and said YES! a police man came over and started yelling at her to leave us alone, or something else in Italian. Yes, she looked like train station staff, but by that stage she also looked like a cartoon pizza we were so hungry. 

Still with no idea where we were going, we decided to go outside, reassess. We found a bus INFO sign and headed straight over. There was a lovely man standing right nearby who approached us, I think he was selling tickets for a tour bus company. We showed him where we were going, and he said "oh, no" and completely defeated, wanting to give up, he said "it's not a very nice area." I had a flashback to Casablanca where James and I got a taxi at the train station and the driver said "ohh no no you don't want to stay there, I'll take you somewhere much nicer." (Big commision for him, duped for us). Anyway, he gave us directions, "Take bus 50 - 6 stops" I heard, take bus number 56. But we found bus number 50, and counted 6 stops.

As soon as we got off we immediately realised we either went way to far, not not far enough! It was soon apparent that we went to far. So we asked a lady at the bus stop if she could help us, we misunderstood her, as she told us where to go in Italian, and the the grumpy removalist men just waving their arms, and finally findng someone who spoke a little English telling us to walk "immer wieder gerade aus." It's a joke Adam and I have, we always seem to get lost somewhere and the answer is always just keep going straight ahead. 

When we were in France, in June last year, the first time our car broke down, we found a small garage just outside Montpillier, and the mechanic told us about a Ford mechanic in a small town about a 15 minute drive away, and we got lost, the directions were fine, but our interpretation of the directions was hopeless, finally we found a lady in the street, and asked her if she knew where we had to go. She didn't speak English unfortunately so I tried my broken German and she said "immer wieder gerade aus."  

We got to the hotel in Rome, just over half an hour before the room would be ready. We were hot, sweaty, tired and oh so unbelievably hungry. On our enormous walk to the hotel, we passed a cute little pizza restaurant. So we left our bags with the receptionist and followed our noses to the pizza. We were a long way away from the tourists. And as our first meal in Rome, and considering how hunger we were we basically ordered one of everything. At 2pm we went to the counter and paid, 6 euros. For both of us, including a bottle of water. Essentially a whole pizza each and a drink to share, for 6 euros. Not to mention the best tasting pizza in the world, if not the universe.

That afternoon, after a much needed 2 hour nap, we bought another bus ticket, with complete directions this time and headed for the “real Rome.” The bus we took, the number 81 this time turned out to be tourist bus at local prices. The bus passes the coliseum, Piazza Venezia, and terminates at the Vatican. We got off the bus at Piazza Venezia and just started walking. After about 5 minutes we saw a sign for the Pantheon, and kept walking in that direction. Before we made it to the Pantheon it started raining and within 30 seconds street vendors were everywhere selling umbrellas. We lasted about half an hour, “no no, we are ok, thank you” and then the rain came, and we gave in. We bought a small black one, we only had 5 euros on us, and we cuddled under it. The man wanted 10 euros! For an umbrella, “tell him he’s dreaming” (from The Castle).  We had no choice though, we only had 5 euros. He gave in and we tried to walk side-by-side-on-an-angle-under-the-tiny-octagon-of-umbrella-squashed.

Just after 5 we found a bus stop that said the 81 stopped their, and we thought it was about time we headed home. We waited at the bus stop for about 45minutes, watching the same buses come and go 3 or 4 times. WHERE ARE WE?  So we started walking (somewhere). The rain eased up, a little, and we kept exploring the side streets, back streets and alleyways.

NOTE: for all you tourists haters like us, visit Rome in the rain, they all disappear, hide away, they just leave! Later that night we saw the Vatican lit up beautifully, almost completely empty.

We spent Thursday in much the same fashion, exploring, wondering, wandering and getting lost. We found a patisserie, and learnt how to order coffee and croissants in Rome.  The most amazing coffee as well. 4 euros for 2 cappuccinos and 2 orange glazed croissants. We were somewhere in between the Pantheon and Piazza Navona. Before stumbling on this little gem, we saw the same coffees and croissants by the Pantheon for over 10 euros, each. So it’s not the product, it’s where you go to get it.

More pizza, more Peroni, pizza again, some pasta, and another slice of pizza, and another pint of Peroni and 24 hours go by and suddenly we’re having pizza for every meal, even snacking on pizza in between meals. To the point where on Friday night, our last night in Rome, I put a ban pizza. (Worst mistake of my life). Adam ordered tripe, not knowing what it was, and boy was that a dish I’ll be happy to never see again. It smelt horrible, he tired it, I couldn’t. He shared my meal instead.

Barcelona was by far our favourite. This time, I spent the flight over looking for our hotel on the map, we had bus directions in our booking confirmation. So essentially we were set. Apart from getting a little lost in Plaza Catalunya, and missing the stop by one street, we checked in very comfortably. The stayed at WOW Hostel, in a private room. Everything about the place was wow, the street, the building, the view, everything.

We had burgers for lunch at a local café, then got sucked into a very pretentious restaurant for dinner, completely snubbed by the wait staff, everyone except Martin, from Bulgaria, he was lovely, and should have been working elsewhere.

And then the Piece de resistance, the FC Barcelona match. The reason for the trip, for the holiday, for Rome and Barcelona. Sunday the 8^th of March. FC Barcelona v Rayo Vallecano. I tried to get us tickets to FC Barcelona v Real Madrid – but at 30 times the price, I settled for a team neither of us had heard of. We both thought it was Valencia, and had to check the tickets a few times to know for sure.

We walked to the stadium, and within about 10minutes we were completely swallowed by fellow fans, there were people everywhere. We decided to stop, about half way and have a coffee and croissant, this time filled with chocolate mousse. I have never had so many croissants in such a short period of time, and man was it awesome. We found our way through the crowd to gate 2, entrance 80 something and tier a million. Yes, I got us tickets right at the very top of the stadium, I figure we’ll see more that way. Our seats were on the corner near the goal but facing the whole grounds, so we weren’t shaking our heads back and forth to watch the ball we could see everything very clearly. And we had perfect sunshine raining down on us.

It’s the only way I feel comfortable with 87,000 people, seated! The atmosphere was spectacular and Adam was like a kid at Christmas. Barcelona won 6-1 so we saw a lot of goals. Although we missed the first one, at 6 minutes in we weren’t expecting anyone to score, and a lady had arrived late, she distracted us, and the rest of the people in the row, trying to find her seat, and we were concentrating on her instead of the field. She was not very popular after that. We had hot dogs of course.

We spent the afternoon by the beach, watching the people running, and cycling. The “beach” vendors selling sarongs and pre made mojitos. We walked along the promenade trying to find a spot outside to get a pitcher of Sangria, but as it was a glorious sunny day, and Sunday, everywhere was packed.

I cooked dinner that night, and we collapsed into bed at about 8pm, thoroughly spent. We decided to spend our last full day at Mt Tibidabo which overlooks Barcelona. Sitting in armchairs, beer/wine in hand, overlooking the city and out to sea was just bliss. We sat in the sunshine for hours, it was really refreshing not having anywhere to be, or anything to do.

We checked out of the hotel on Tuesday morning, and headed into town again. We stored our bag in a locker near Plaza Catalunya, and headed out by foot once more. We think, without knowing for sure as we got lost so many time, but we think we must have walked about 70km in our week away. On our last day, we finally enjoyed Sangria by the beach, and were serenaded by beach musician. When I went to pay I saw the “jug” they used to pour the sangria from, I wish I hadn’t. Before heading to the airport, we also tried Paella for the first time, I don’t know if we got it from the wrong place, but I had better in New Zealand.

I used to work at the night market in our local town, and the lady in the stall opposite ours sold paella and it was just magic. Unfortunately the one we had tasted a little under-loved.

We arrived at the airport at 5pm, not being able to check in until after 6pm. We sat on one of the benches and just waited for our last hours of sunshine to pass. Just after 6 Adam asked where his wallet was. We looked, and looked, through all our bags, the rucksack everywhere. Then we realised it was still in the drawer at the hotel, and then it dawned on us. We didn’t just leave his wallet, we left my Australian passport, both our diaries- mine I’d had for 2 years, carrying it from country to country. We also left Adams running watch, and all our books.

By the time we had realised, it was too late to go back into Barcelona, retrieve the items and make it back to the airport for the 7:30 check in. So we had to hope and pray that the hotel would post it to us. It has been a week now. On Thursday they said they would send it to us, but we now haven’t heard from them since Friday. So fingers toes and everything crossed that they will.