To Rome With Love
In late night, as I flipping through postcards that were sent by my friends over last summer; seeing their enjoyment travelling around the world; something inside spoke to me and said, “Lets go! Let us have an adventure of our own. Come on! While you are still in the silence of journey, lets us just wild through and go along with the flow. We have nothing to loose!’.
As quick and swift as fox, I threw the postcards to the table, ran to the bedroom, grabbed the backpack that are use for class and put my plain t-shirts, hot pants and innerwear in which the number of clothes that I packed does not resemble Marco Polo at all.
Since it is impromptu, I want to keep the plan to myself and due to that, I can’t call my friends to send me to the airport. Thus, a cab arrived ten minutes later and the sleepy driver drove to the airport in the middle of the night. After paid the fair and tip him with a Starbucks voucher; so he could get a hot roasted coffee since it is my fault on the first place called him on the first place; I went straight to the selling counter to find out only five counters still open and having Qantas Airways, British Airways, Air France, Emirates and Virgin Atlantic does not sound cheap.
Before I knew it, a copy of receipt together with my card is being handed to me while the sales person told me the earliest flight to Rome will commence within 40 minutes. As I pace to the boarding gate, my mind recall what had happened five minutes before. The vivid flashback starts to roll its film focusing upon me who stood in front of those counters. Suddenly, it occurred to me to grab the earliest flight list on the information board. I made a look and “Rome” captured my sight. Hence, I directly went to the Air France counter and asked whether a seat is still available on the craft.
“You’re lucky” says the sales person. “Yesterday, we received a call from one of our passenger mentioning that he want to reschedule his flight to the next after and the former seat is still fully covered because he said that perhaps having two seats for two different days is feasible. He added that he would call if to tell us which flight he will take and just now, he called stating that he would took the second ticket that he purchased. So yes, we do have an available seat and it’s fully paid. Perhaps you want to add on for a meal for the flight since it will consume roughly around 3 hours to reach Rome, Italy.” and for reason for the credit card was swiping through the payment machine, I smiled.
After I landed at Leonardo da Vinci Airport, I got into a taxi and told the driver to send this precious carriage to a little in called Cialdini. I quite surprised myself as I only knew about the inn from a travel column that I read from Cosmopolitan magazine few months back. Just as I stepped in, I was welcome by Paolo, the owner of the inn; an old guy which I assume in his early 50s, having white butcher beard and he wearing a plain white t-shirt with brown pants together with a pair of red suspenders. He coincidently taking care of the counter when I arrived and welcome me in his thick Italian accent while his hands dance in the air when he talks.. Later, he gives me a key and personally carried my backpack as he shows the way to my room. While he took off his flat golf cap and fan himself; perhaps from the two floor journey; he opened the door.
It is a beautiful room indeed as the ray of the morning sun penetrate the T-shape windows all the way to the bed with there is a light brown writing table at the right side of the bed facing the wall. The room was simple but beautiful. I thanked Paolo and threw myself on the comfy bed and my stomach starting to growl begging for food. I remembered that I haven’t dress any meal since last night.
So I went out using the back door and my eyes instantly captivated upon what its behold. The alley is just about 20 foot width but both side of the alley are filled with stalls that sells fruits, clothes, kitchen utensils and many other things which I don’t usually see in my hometown. Buyers negotiating with the mongers, one child running with an apple in his hand, two old man sits on stools; talking, chattering. It is an amazing sight.
I strode along the alley and I noticed a small restaurant called Ragazzi Picolli which attract me to step in. I was welcome by Ella Fitzgerald song that fills throughout the room and I sit at one little table right at the corner when a girl I assume in her 16 give a menu in later which afterwards, standing still, waiting for me to give my order.
Since the menu are written in Italian, my mind starts to juggle itself and my lips uttered, “Un spaghetti ala tomato pasta et parlez”. I think what I said to her was right because she just jolt it down and gave the paper to the kitchen counter. Fifteen minutes later, a plate of spaghetti with four large meatball on top and a glass of cold water are serve. I enjoyed the meal really much partly because it is purely Italian made.
After finished the meal, I continue my journey along the pavement alley as I smiled to every person that passed me by while whispering to myself, “Perhaps, Paris is known for love and Milan touched the base for passion. But, both love and passion does not beat the sincerity of two hearts; as written by Shakespeare; the story of Romeo and Juliet.”.
Let me share my love here before I return and see the wonder of Rome from the eye of Eve. By instinct, I can feel this journey would be magical.
To feel the love of Rome.
