Last Day in Rome: Not So Much in Rome (Tuesday, October 18, 2011)

Rather than a third day spent fighting the crowds in Rome, we decided to go to the ancient Roman town of Tivoli to visit Villa d’Este. This is the summer home of some cardinal or other who was in power way back when. He built it on the remains of a Roman structure, which was then a convent, which he then replaced with his vacation home. It’s amazing! He channeled the natural flow of water to fill the entire building and grounds with fountains. Paintings and sculpture abound, and we only had to share the space with a few other people. Highly recommend it.

We enjoyed lunch in the main square, to which several in our group were attracted because of a sign that said you could get a hamburger and French fries for 5 Euro. The hamburger, to their disappointment, was not as expected—just a small hamburger patty minus the bun, tomato, lettuce, whatever. Andrew even requested his with some mozzerella on top, a request which made the server shake her head. It was hard not to laugh at their expressions when the server laid the food in front of them. They were some pretty decent French fries, though. Meanwhile Natalie had linguine with lobster, which turned out to be half a lobster laid out over the noodles. She turns into a more adventurous foodie every day.

Next up was the Villa Gregorio (I might have that name wrong), where there are some natural waterfalls in a big park. We walked there, only to find that the place had closed about 15 minutes before, as they had begun winter hours 2 days before. We were disappointed, but this proved to be a new opportunity for all teen-ish girls who wanted to do some shopping in the main square.

Terhi came to pick up half of us—she was shuttling since we only had our car for 10 people—so we decided to send the kids back to our place while we drove through the old town of Zagarolo. It is also fascinating, and I wish we had time to explore all of the places we get a glimpse of. Italy is crazy in that everywhere you turn, there are just pieces and fragments of truly ancient things. Some are memorialized and honored and revered; others grow trees out of the roofs of the abandoned places. No telling why some get the special treatment.

A last dinner of pasta surprise at Carsten and Louise’s place, and then we said goodbye. It’s a melancholy parting with them, since, unlike most of our friends, we really have no idea if and when we might see them again. Our children enjoy each others’ company too, but there are no guarantees. I learned to really hate saying goodbye to people when we shipped back and forth from Dallas to Grand Rapids twice a year, and I still do hate it. I try to remember what a friend in Mexico told me—when you believe in the same Lord, you never have to say goodbye. You just say until next time, if not here then in the heavens.

Until next time.

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