This is the last installment of a travelogue by retired English teacher/librarian Marguerite Kirkpatrick of Russellville. She traveled with one of her daughters, Shannon Reade, and Shannon’s family-husband Wes, daughter Maggie, son Will and his girlfriend, Megan Gough. Will is a senior at the University of South Carolina on an ROTC Navy scholarship. Megan is from Stafford, Va. and is a junior at USC, on a Marine ROTC scholarship. Maggie Reade is a senior at Merrol Hyde Magnet School in Hendersonville, Tenn.

Saturday, June 4
The morning finds us waiting again for the bus-this time with our luggage-bidding a reluctant goodbye to our beautiful Praiano. The trip to Naples is the “ride from hell” with a full bus and so many suitcases in the aisles-because it is Saturday, people are on the move-that it is virtually impossible to move to seats in the back. Arrival at the Naples train station brings the comedy of errors. Maggie, Will, and Megan run down the street and buy pizzas. We findTtrack 13 (big clue) and decide somehow that our car is at the end of the train. We go there, lugging luggage and pizza boxes, stand on the platform and open the pizza boxes. A conductor tells us to board. No, not this one-the first car. Run to the first car. No, not this one-it’s first class. Run back. A “helper” arrives, directs us aboard a car and into a compartment, helps to stow our luggage, holds out his hand for a tip. Wes complies.
Will warns we’ve been scammed; someone will be coming in with tickets for this compartment. Tempers flare. Yes, here are the ladies with tickets and huffy voices, ordering us to “get out” and “take our luggage.” Did they think we would leave it with them? Back on the platform. What now? Finally someone in a uniform directs us to our car; we drag our luggage and pizza boxes aboard and settle into first class after all, just as the train pulls out of the station. Everyone is testy! And hungry.

In Rome we transfer from Garibaldi Stazione to the Metro-down, down, down into the depths of the city, lugging luggage. And then up, up, up to the street again when we reach our stop, lugging luggage. Sweet Wes carries my suitcase up and down some of the steps in the Metro even though he has other bags to carry. We meet our landlords, Antoinette and Stephen, who take us to our beautiful apartment. Three floors up. No elevator. Still lugging luggage. Note to self: pack lighter next time.

Soon we are on the street again exploring our surroundings. Just across a busy street is the small Piazza Popolo with typical Roman statues and fountains. Street entertainers include a Michael Jackson imitator. And then of course, we walk. And walk. We window-shop and explore the neighborhood until we settle on the perfect place for dinner: Blanko Ristobar. Our server, from the Caribbean, is great fun. When Shannon asks if the shrimp on a particular salad are large, he laughs loudly, “Oh, no, you must go to my country for that!”

Sunday, July 5
The day begins with cappuccino and pastries at sidewalk tables of Caffe Miani just outside our apartment building. Boarding a double-decker sightseeing bus, we clamber to the top deck and take our seats for a tour around this amazing city. Ancient ruins are everywhere. Broken columns from the days of Julius Caesar. The site where Caesar was assassinated. The Circus Maximus where 300,000 spectators watched chariot races. The massive ruins of the Colosseum-site of gladiator contests and wild animal fights. The Forum-heart of ancient Rome. The Tiber River. Modern buildings rise beside ongoing excavation sites. Glass, steel, and concrete of a modern city are juxtaposed against the ancient stone arches and columns and crumbling walls of ancient Rome.

Soon we are walking again looking for Trastevere, a neighborhood with a maze of narrow cobblestone streets and old buildings. A fellow traveler on a train recommended Dar Poeta, a favorite pizzerie of the locals, little known by the tourists. Tucked away in a narrow alley, it does not disappoint. Here we enjoy the best pizze of our entire stay in Italy, as well as a huge bowl of salad that includes cherry tomatoes, corn, olives, arugula, and fat rounds of baby mozzarella-a rare treat since salad is not often included with meals.

After lunch we walk to the tiny Piazza Santa Maria with its 17^th century fountain and one of the oldest churches in Rome, Santa Maria in Trastevere. In this church are beautiful 12^th century mosaics by Cavallini. As is typical of many churches in Rome, old women swaddled in dark clothing from head to foot prostrate themselves on the pavement just outside the church, begging for coins by holding a cup between their hands. What a sad sight! Other beggars we have seen were on the train: a tiny boy with the most somber expression holding out his cap while his father played a portable keyboard and a young mother carrying a sleeping baby. Heart breaking.

Leaving Trastevere, we go to the Colosseum, but are confronted with a sudden downpour. We spend some time there exploring in the rain; Maggie is disappointed because she is unable to take the pictures she would like. She is especially interested in the historical sites of Rome after studying AP European history this past year.

As we stand waiting for our bus near the Colosseum, one of the many street hawkers approaches with a handful of scarves. “Three for five euros,” he announces.
“I’ll give you ten,” replies Will.
“Huh?”
“Fifteen!” encourages Will.
“Three for five,” repeats the confused hawker.
“Twenty!”
No deal. The hawker hurries away.

Later our walk home through the rain-slick streets takes us down the Spanish Steps, a stop for gelato, and then across little Piazza Popola to our lovely apartment where we throw the windows and shutters open wide to the cool night air. We have seen no screens in Italy. Are there no insects?

Monday, June 6
Sitting at our little coffee bar with cappuccino and pastries, we watch the locals begin the hustle and bustle of a workday. And then, of course, we walk. Today’s first destination is the Pantheon, an amazing and beautiful classical structure built under Hadrian’s direction between A.D. 119 and 128 as a temple to twelve gods, but claimed by the Catholic Church in 608. The only light in the interior comes from the thirty-foot oculus in the dome, which is open to the elements. Rain falls through this opening and is drained away by 22 small holes in the marble floor below. Today the sun shines through the oculus, creating a spotlight on various points in the interior as it moves across the heavens. In one of the niches decorated with beautiful religious paintings and sculptures, Raphael is buried in a glass-encased tomb.

Of course, there is a little piazza containing a large fountain with sea monsters spouting water. Maggie and Will and I have a photo session. If one stands sideways in a certain spot beside the fountain and purses his lips, the sea creature is obscured, and the water stream appears to be coming from that person’s mouth. Silly fun.

From the Pantheon we walk to Trevi Fountain. Huge crowds jostle for the perfect photo op; current construction takes up much space around the fountain; we take pictures and toss in the customary coins to insure our return to Rome but are then anxious to leave this crowded place.

Back on the double-decker bus, we travel to the Forum. I have somehow lost my ticket, purchased yesterday as part of the Colosseum entry fee, so I find a shady spot, a sidewalk fruit stand, and a restful hour while the rest of my group walk around the dusty ruins. Thank you, Lord, for helping me to lose my ticket!

Next we return to the Vatican to visit the Sistine Chapel. Once inside the Vatican Museum, we choose the “long route” to the Chapel, which leads us through rooms of ancient Roman statuary, rooms of beautiful and intricately wrought tapestries, map rooms, a room containing an enormous porphyry bathtub used by Nero. Our guidebook tells us there are 55 rooms of modern religious art. Obviously, we must forego most of these.

We stand in awe at the beauty of three rooms that originally comprised the papal suite, painted in the 16^th century by Raphael when he was only 26 years old. These rooms are considered the “finest museum offerings in the world.” It is easy to see why. Vividly colored frescos cover completely the walls and ceilings with detailed scenes that include many famous people of the day, including Leonardo da Vinci, Michelangelo, and a self-portrait of Raphael.

Finally we reach the Sistine Chapel. Oh, to be in this room alone, to be able to lie on the floor and gaze at the magnificent scenes on the ceiling and wonder at the brilliance of a man who could conceive of this masterpiece. Our audio guide reminds us that Michelangelo had a thorough knowledge of Dante’s Inferno as well as the Bible because so many of the stories from these two works are included in the frescos. We learn that the artist felt inadequate to paint the ceiling because he considered himself a sculptor, not a painter. It is hard to imagine such humility.

But we are not alone. In fact, the chapel is wall-to-wall people. Two guards are constantly shushing and yelling, “Silence!” and “Respect!” It is almost a relief to be outside once again and moving away from the crowds of tourists who, like us, have come to the Vatican to witness history.

Taking the Metro to Bernini Station, we still must walk, walk, walk in search of Piazza Navona, “possibly Rome’s favorite piazza.” The route takes us down narrow cobblestone streets with interesting small shops, pizzarias, and trattorias. Maggie chooses one of the street artists to paint her portrait. For a while Shannon and I watch Maggie’s pretty face evolve on the canvas, before walking ahead to the piazza. After a long day with much touring, we enjoy a delightful rest and a cool drink at an outdoor café and watch the sun set behind the Church of St. Agnes as the piazza begins to fill with people. Couples stroll around the three Bernini fountains; people gather at the many outdoor ristaurantes; a violinist’s sweet melodies drift across the piazza.

When the rest of our group gathers, we go in search of a ristaurante for our last dinner in Rome. Down a narrow street and offering a few tables outside, Taverna Parione provides the perfect setting. We laugh at all of the day’s adventures and toast with hearty “Salutes” reminders of the day:
“Here’s to speeding up to see the art.”
“Here’s to losing my ticket.”
“Here’s to toughing it out,” as we sit in the light sprinkle.
“Here’s to not toughing it out,” as two smoking ladies at the next table retreat inside.
And so on….

We laugh about the oft-repeated phrases of the past few days:
Shannon: “Let’s go!” and “I don’t know when I’ve been this tired. Oh, yeah. It was last night.”
Wes: “Just let me take a look at the map.”
Will: “I need more cherries.”
Maggie: “I want to get a picture of this.”
Megan: “I don’t usually get up this early.”
Gee: “How much farther?” and “We didn’t have lunch today.”
And of course: “grazie, prego, scusi, and buongiorno.”

After dinner, we return to Navona Piazza and people-watch while Megan has her portrait painted by one of the street artists. A small crowd gathers to watch as the artist works. How does Megan hold that Mona Lisa smile so long? It is 11:30 and our long walk home is made easier by the knowledge that we will pass our favorite gelato store on the way. Oh, no! It is closed! Will presses his nose against the glass and begs entry. The workers have just closed and can be seen cleaning. But they have no mercy and do not unlock the door. And so finally we cross Piazza Popolo and are home. It is after midnight; the van will arrive to take us to the airport at 8:30, and we still have to pack.

Tuesday, June 7
The morning dawns gray with threatening clouds, but the rain holds off while we have a last cappuccino and pastry at our sidewalk table. The van arrives. We drive through a rainy city, bidding farewell to Rome and this wonderful adventure.

But we have all thrown coins in Trevi Fountain and are confident that we will return someday. Arrivederci, Roma.