Bless me reader for it has been 10 days since my last confession...
Seamus told me an Irish man would sweep me off my feet during my trip and so begins my tale.
ROMA
My mother and I awoke from a pleasant slumber only to realize that we had no way of getting from one hotel to another. The taxi's were still on strike so our hotel called a friend who tossed our luggage into her car and drove us to our new place. We strolled through the main lobby. There were a few men dressed in navy blue pin strip suits with white iron shirts and neat ties working on our left side. There was another man slumped on a leather sofa on our right side. He had a nice black polo shirt with fitting jeans and was carrying a bright red Trafalgar clipboard. My mother naturally thought he was part of the hotel staff and addressed him as such. She babbled about how the taxi driver's are on strike and the man kept joking about how it would be funny if the tour director also went on strike. It didn't matter how many times the man used I in the sentences, my mother continued to believe that the man she was speaking to was no more than a hotel porter. I didn't think much of the man, because I was so happy that he didn't ask for any offical proof that I belonged on the tour. I would probably just start crying about how my tickets were stolen a few days ago and I don't have any proof.
We met my Vice Principal from my Grade 2 year and other Canadians. The ones we got along with best were Peter and Lucy from Woodbridge and Shu yen and Ruth from Scarbrough. We had a lovely evening (which I think may have mentioned earlier) and then time for bed.
VERONA
My mother has this obsession with water bottles and toilets. She often thinks we need more and more water bottles. We lug around these 1-2 litres of water with us, but only take a few sips when she feels that we must buy more bottles. She also thinks (or perhaps really does) need to use the washroom all the time. We were strolling through the city when we all paused in front of a stor window. I saw some people window shopping while others just mulled around. After a long while, someone asked what we were doing and Riccardo said that a lady needed to use the toilet. I stood in horror and exclaimed, "It's my mother! Only my mother!" The crowd giggled while I stared at the ground hoping it would swallow me whole.
The day became much brighter when Kam invited me to join her in the Guiletta museum. We wandered through the museum in such delight looking at different artificats and celebrating the fact that we were in the same bedroom where they shot Zefferelli's movie. How cool, eh?! After feeling like a couple of geeks getting rather excited over museums and literature, we went for some gelatto. I should mention that my mother was with us and she raced around the entire place taking photos and was a little hesitant about the gelatto. We were all pleasantly surprised when the delicious ice cream came in these cute little green leaf cups. I am still obsessed with Gelatto, but the best one so far has been on the first night with Riccardo.
ROMA
My mother and I awoke from a pleasant slumber only to realize that we had no way of getting from one hotel to another. The taxi's were still on strike so our hotel called a friend who tossed our luggage into her car and drove us to our new place. We strolled through the main lobby. There were a few men dressed in navy blue pin strip suits with white iron shirts and neat ties working on our left side. There was another man slumped on a leather sofa on our right side. He had a nice black polo shirt with fitting jeans and was carrying a bright red Trafalgar clipboard. My mother naturally thought he was part of the hotel staff and addressed him as such. She babbled about how the taxi driver's are on strike and the man kept joking about how it would be funny if the tour director also went on strike. It didn't matter how many times the man used I in the sentences, my mother continued to believe that the man she was speaking to was no more than a hotel porter. I didn't think much of the man, because I was so happy that he didn't ask for any offical proof that I belonged on the tour. I would probably just start crying about how my tickets were stolen a few days ago and I don't have any proof.
We met my Vice Principal from my Grade 2 year and other Canadians. The ones we got along with best were Peter and Lucy from Woodbridge and Shu yen and Ruth from Scarbrough. We had a lovely evening (which I think may have mentioned earlier) and then time for bed.
VERONA
My mother has this obsession with water bottles and toilets. She often thinks we need more and more water bottles. We lug around these 1-2 litres of water with us, but only take a few sips when she feels that we must buy more bottles. She also thinks (or perhaps really does) need to use the washroom all the time. We were strolling through the city when we all paused in front of a stor window. I saw some people window shopping while others just mulled around. After a long while, someone asked what we were doing and Riccardo said that a lady needed to use the toilet. I stood in horror and exclaimed, "It's my mother! Only my mother!" The crowd giggled while I stared at the ground hoping it would swallow me whole.
The day became much brighter when Kam invited me to join her in the Guiletta museum. We wandered through the museum in such delight looking at different artificats and celebrating the fact that we were in the same bedroom where they shot Zefferelli's movie. How cool, eh?! After feeling like a couple of geeks getting rather excited over museums and literature, we went for some gelatto. I should mention that my mother was with us and she raced around the entire place taking photos and was a little hesitant about the gelatto. We were all pleasantly surprised when the delicious ice cream came in these cute little green leaf cups. I am still obsessed with Gelatto, but the best one so far has been on the first night with Riccardo.
posted by Ophelia Pace at 12:25 PM
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