City Fix

Beautiful hotsprings the natural ones
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Saturday Nov 25th

I slept soundly, stuffed myself on cakes and cheese and fruit (breakfast has a whole new meaning for me!!) and took the winding road down the steep hill to the hot springs.  What a racquet. I mean it’s beautiful and all but they must make a zillion euros a year…

I pay my $12 Euro for a ½ day and parking and change into my bathing suit.  I realize I forgot to grab a towel so I go back to the front desk, where I am informed that my $12 doesn’t include a towel yet I may purchase one in the gift shop.  You’ve got to be kidding.  I refuse.  Literally, everyone is walking around in these gorgeous fluffy embossed robes, toting their see thru “Spa Saturnia” beach bags, matching slippers and Brazilian looking bathing suites.  Then there’s me; no towel, no beach bag, tennis shoes, fat girl bathing suit, and my trusty Old Navy sweatshirt that hasn’t been washed in a week yet worn everyday!! So I waddle into the steaming, rotten egg smelling water that is NOT hot.  Not even really all that warm, and all I can think about is when mom and I were in Portugal and we were all excited to go into the Jacuzzi of the hotel we were staying at.  (where btw, we were given complimentary large beach towels) but we get there, and the water is SO NOT even warm that mom is freaking out about how it is a breeding ground for bacteria and to get out! So now I’m swimming in probably everyone’s piss, millions of bacteria and the ground is so slippery with some sort of fungus I start itching, convinced I’m gonna break out in hives.  I find a place to sit and close my eyes and decide it’s all going to be ok – and ended up having a really relaxing time.  I dried off under the hand dryers (like a homeless person) and headed back on the road.  Good Bye Saturnia.

The germ infested ones I was in
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Now I’m in the beautiful seaside town of Monte Argentario staring out at unbelievable blue water views.  Except I’m here again at 2:30 so I’m pulled over waiting for a hotel, any hotel to be open.  There is nothing here, but it’s really pretty.

No hotels to be found I’m told – So I decide to head to Rome and return the car a day early.  The funny thing is this whole time I’ve been from small beautiful town to next small beautiful town I’ve been daydreaming that Steve and I could live there.  That I could really be happy in the middle of the Tuscan countryside.  I realize of course when I’m headed to the airport to get rid of my car, that I need more.  I need what Rome is sure to offer.  I want WIFI and Starbucks and a Laundromat that is open normal daytime hours and HBO.  (Ok – quick random thought – for a country that has so many American songs playing all over the radio stations how come no one can speak any English?  I mean if I listened to Italian music all day I would surely know at least 30 sentences of Italian)

pretty coastal towns
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So I head straight to the train station inside the airport and decide to find a hotel when I get inside of Rome.  The tourist agency at Rome Terminal offers to help me find a hotel for 3Euro.  Whatever.  He assures me that since it’s a Saturday everything is booked and since I don’t want to spend more than 60 Euro a night he’s got just the place.  3 stars, great location, clean, really great.  I of course really want to believe him so I accept.  I would bet my laptop, that I could have found a better place, better location for the same price.  But I’m here so I suppose I shall make the best of this.  I’m in Rome’s version of China town – but it’s only 3 blocks from the Metro/Train Station.

all day long baby...
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Today when I was driving down the coast – really one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever seen, I thought to myself how I’ve been dreaming of a trip around the world for years.  I’ve achieved that now, And yes I’m grateful, yes I’m lucky and I appreciate all of that – Really – But/And what if I’m not the world traveler I thought I was. Or claimed to the world to be.  Or worse, what if I’m just “over it” or too old, or getting “stuck in my ways” I definitely feel like I could never have gotten married, or had a child, or maybe even bought a house without having this experience.  I know that for sure, but I also was pretty sure that I probably never would do any of those things.  And yet being away for this long (and I’m only ½ way there…) being away from all things comfortable; physically, mentally and socially has left me with the same conclusion.  As much as I’ve tried to fight it right now all I want to do is be home with Steve and Jeb surrounded by my English-speaking friends, eating a meal that I cooked.

View from hotel room in Rome
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Not to suggest that I’m having a bad time – I am quite literally having the time of my life and I don’t want to sound like an “American” or be disrespectful to other countries/language/culture but I enjoy being able to communicate, to get my point across without grunts and childish hand gestures, to use 2 ply toilet paper and watch hours of TBS if I want to.  Yikes - I sound like an “Americano”…..