The day we broke ourselves and lying in pain with Thomas Pynchon

It had to happen eventually and today was the day. We broke. Both of us felt terrific in the morning, setting out respectably early all chipper and full of the promise of the day. Our plan began with a rather vigorous walk to the Trevi Fountain, hoping to catch it before the mass of tourists flooded the area. We arrived hot and hungry, having forgone breakfast in favor of a punctual start, and found that the crowds were already large, the fountain was not running and had all of its entrances were roped off. It was interesting to see workers cleaning out the money thrown in over the past 24 hour period. I read that the fountain receives an average of 3000 Euros per day from folks tossing a coin in hopes of coming back to Rome again, as the legend states. The funds go to a few local charities and every day the process starts anew. Alex and I did not drop coins in the fountain, what with it being blocked off (you'd have to hurl your Euro over the crowd a good 10 feet and it seemed rude to throw coins at the fountain cleaners), but we are confident that we will return to the city without the help of Trevi.

Hungry, we traveled back towards the Pantheon, hoping to score food and then slide into the wonder a hole in its center. We settled in for some breakfast (me) and lunch (Alex) at a lovely cafe right across from the Pantheon enterance. As we sat, no less than a dozen well-meaning tourist-trappers tried to sell us selfie sticks. Not a fan of this particular device. We did see many, many folks use them to take shots of themselves outside the Pantheon and it reminded me of a scene in the movie we saw yesterday, when a group of tourists marched in unison, carrying selfie sticks instead of guns. Timely.

After our decent but expensive grub (paying for the view, I suppose), we took all of 30 seconds to decide that the Pantheon line to get in was not going to be part of our day, so instead, we began the longish walk towards the Villa Borghese museum and gardens. We enjoyed quite a bit of church hopping along the way, seeing beautiful and intimate spaces, each with its own character. This part of the day was probably the best, when we were in good spirits and felling well.

I love Rome's cobbled streets. The stones are dark and smooth with wear and age. They are each uniquely sized and can stick out different directions. There's a fair amount of construction going on in the city, and the workers pull up the cobblestones for replacement after the construction is done. Out of the ground, they look like pulled teeth, with long, narrowing roots. Rome's streets are full of its old teeth, loose and impacted, filling the gums of the streets. We walked on a living, evolving organism towards the rest of our day.

By the time we arrived at Borghese, we both were feeling the effects of our long morning. Our tickets for the museum were for 1:00, so we spent some time sitting in the shade, waiting for our turn to enter the villa. Alex had the ever creeping afternoon anxiety coming on pretty fierce. That's hard for both of us, but especially him. It was still pretty bad when we entered the museum, and he lasted all of three minutes before he needed to head outside and wait for me to finish my visit. I really love this place. I first went there with my mom in 2013, and had forgotten how gorgeous the sculptures are. There are also several Caravaggios on display, with his famous chiaroscuro technique ever present. 

Outside, Alex was still struggling when I met up with him. We decided to take a walk to the Cine Borghese, a cool movie house in Borghese gardens that shows outdoor films. We went for drinks and some shady rest. The menu was full of drinks named after actors and directors. We chose to have iced tea (spiked) called the Scorsese and the Fellini. Next to us sat a mom with her infant boy. We struck up a conversation and enjoyed hearing about living in Rome, her relatives in America and Australia and how she's adjusting to motherhood. Our lovely time at Cine Borghese released Alex's anxiety and the rest of the day he felt better, at least mentally.

We were a few miles from the Vatican, our last stop of the day, and we had 2 hours to get there. Alex's leg pain from is back problem had been worsening throughout the day, and by now it was really bothering him. About 1/4 of the way into the walk, we decided to stop again, this time at a Lebanese restaurant not far from Borghese. Lebanese food at 4:30 PM sounded like just the ticket. And it was. All around us people were using the hookahs supplied by the restaurant, which prompted Alex to ask whether we should try one. You know, when in Rome at a Lebanese restaurant.... But I convinced him that it would likely result in both of us getting sick, and since we were already tired and heading towards the Vatican, a hookah break may not the be best medicine. Food was great, though. 

Up and walking again, it became increasingly apparent that Alex's leg was not okay. The longer we walked, the more it seemed as if we were making some kind of bizarre pilgrimage to the Vatican museum, hoping for a cure for his ailing body and my increasingly sore knees and feet. Desperate for water and relief from our pain, we limped our way into St. Peter's square, early for our 7 PM check in and glad for some shady respite. About 5 minutes before our entry time, we were alarmed to find out that, despite being in the center of Vatican City (the smallest country in the world) we were quite far from the museum entrance. In fact, we had to exit the square, walk around the entire country that is Vatican City and enter from the opposite side. So, with wounded legs and feet and pride, we fast-walked, arriving ten minutes late and breathless. At some point I wanted to give up and go home. Alex encouraged me on, and we didn't quit. 

Italy has a lot of bureaucracy and this Vatican visit reminded me of it. We showed our voucher twice before entering, went through security (not wasteful - important) and then stood another line to turn our vouchers into tickets. Then we waited to scan our tickets to get into the museum itself. And then, we rested. For a solid half hour we sat staring at St. Peter's dome, watching the sun set around it, feeling grateful that our sore bodies had a chance to rest. And after that, we took probably the word's fastest tour of the Vatican museum on record (actually not on record -- of all days to do so, I forgot to wear my Fitbit, so steps on this momentous journey were not counted). Speed walking, or our injured version of it, took all of 15 minutes. I did have to pause in the map room, my complete favorite, to enjoy the utter beauty of it all. Then, we spent maybe 3 minutes in the Sistine Chapel, found a very overpriced cab to take us home, climed the 62 stairs to our apartment and collapsed in pain.

Thomas Pynchon joined us in that moment, as Alex and I listened to his excellent book The Crime of Lot 49 whose characters include my very favorite Mike Fallopian. Pain and Pynchon.