Feb17th- Past the pizza
I wake at 7am and push myself past the long sense memories of gorgeous sex, of someone banging on the wall, of less than good pizza eaten in bed, an interlude. The breakfast room is crowded with a choirfull of German tourists, who appear to have scarfed all the bread. We tumble easily towards the Vatican, passing the colloseum and trevi fountain, both on our left hand side (for once) and stop for ice cream beside the pantheon. Finally onward to the sistene chapel, which is monumentally more impressive than expected, the characters exude from the ceiling, escape artists one musical key away from pouring onto the crowd below. I would love some drugs. A particularly insidious fart as we exit, which echoes like an angels trumpet. The museum has so many busts, it looks more like a shop display, and 3 of the amazingly intact full body statues actually still have their bronze weapons in hand, something I've not witnessed in any other museum; it's like the Vatican handed out to other institutions all the crumbly tat they couldn't find a hall for. We return to nap, and 4 hours later emerge for a lovely dinner in a taverna with a British flag outside. The lasagna was heavenly and bilingual.
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