When in Rome, .... visit the Colosseum

Colosseum day today!

Wow!

We were up really early!  Really early!
Managed to get away from the campsite by about 8.30 am, and we were standing in the queue for tickets at the Colosseum by 9.30 am.
By 10.00 am we were inside.  Not too bad, - considering!

The journey into Rome was somewhat easier than yesterday, - mostly because we knew which train to get onto this time!

Once at the Colosseum Ruth had an audio guide thing, and she told me everything that I needed to know.  One can’t help being wow-ed by the enormity of the size of the place.  To think that these Romans used to throw people into the arena and let them be torn to pieces by wild animals, - just for fun, is grotesquely bizarre.

From what we could gather, nasty Nero was the worst of the bunch.

There is even a place with a cross, to give honour to the Christians who died in the Colosseum, simply for being Christians.

Ruth asked me what I thought was the best bit of the Colosseum.  

I replied, “the outside”.  To my mind the outside is simply iconic.  Inside, it’s archaeological restoration in progress, exposed foundations and footings, scaffolding holding up covered sites, and bits of marble columns for you to sit on.

We found out later that the apostle Paul was imprisoned fairly near the Colosseum, and would have gone there to have a look at the Manertine Prison.  But we only discovered this fact once we were back at the campsite.

From the Colosseum, we took our Hop On Hop Off bus round to the Spanish Steps area, and had a look there.

Then on to the Trevi Fountain by foot. 

Trevi Foundtain

Both places were heaving with people.  We held on to our wallets and bags in the more crowded areas.

Several times we encountered buskers.  Honour where honour is due, and to pay respect to the noble art of busking, we contributed each time we found good busking.

A young guy was playing Isn’t She Lovely (Stevie Wonder).  He had a thing that recorded his first couple of loops of music, and then he played over the top of his just recorded loop.  Interesting!

We even found a young girl playing solo flute in a back street.  I would imagine that she didn’t stand a chance against the guys with amplifiers in the main squares and bridges where they pump out rock music.

There are other “acts” too.  A guy looking like he had just emerged from Aladdin’s genie lamp.

Another Asian guy was spray-painting some remarkable works of art.  Not to our liking, but definitely very skilled with the spray-can.  He can touch up my car paintwork anytime!

We found that the back streets were almost as interesting as some of the main tourist areas.

Soon we turned a corner and found the Pantheon.  

Another moment of discovery!  Going inside one could sense the sheer impressiveness (if there is such a word) of it.  Marble floors, vast domed ceiling, works of art round the walls, - just splendid.

It seems that nearly everywhere you go in Rome there is yet another ancient building or place that needs a visit.

But time was running out.  And we were desperate for the loo.  We headed back to the Colosseum to pick up the tube train back to the station.  We asked someone where we could find a loo.  They pointed to the underground tube entrance.  We went and found it.  It needed half a Euro to enter.  Being desperate, and realising that we wouldn’t survive the journey back to the campsite, we paid our half Euro and the door opened.

Oh my word!  Words can’t describe the horror inside the door!  It was foul.  The floor was running with water.  The remains of a previous persons business were left behind.  The smell was revolting.

There was nothing for it.  We had paid our money.  And were desperate.

We just got on with it, and prayed to God that we didn’t suffer the consequences of the two minutes we in there.  When in Rome, .... eh?  They should have paid US to use the loo!

Just one more statue of a pope and we were all done.

We made it back to the station, caught our train and got back to the campsite within about 45 minutes from the Colosseum.

After we had been back for s assort while, we notice an old man sitting up against the tree next to our van.  He looked like he may have been a drunk.  But he had a rather smart camera round his neck, so he probably wasn’t a tramp.

I asked him if he was ok.  He responded in French.  Fortunately, my French is a lot better than my Italian, and was able to understand the he was our neighbour in the campervan next to us.  He had got separated from his wife.  She had his phone in her bag.  So he had simply made his way back to the campsite and was waiting for her to arrive.  

We gave him one of our chairs and a blanket for him to sit on while he waited.

After about 20 minutes, his wife arrived and they disappeared into their van.

I wonder how the conversation went that night!?!