Journal 2

Ok, my day started off with more sleep under my belt, and a hope filled quest to follow up on my husband's comment last night of, "What's our game plan on finding out what our options are for our living arrangements?" After breakfast of some sweet juice that left me curious of the fruit that it came from, and some not so sweet, but perfectly looking croissants, Stacey dropped me off at the Sheraton Rome down the highway to check out what the rooms looked like there, and what the prices might be. He was off the Naples for the day. So, I was house shopping in Rome, on my own, without my cell phone, a map, a guide, or my mom! But, chin up, I could do this! So I waited for an hour and a half, after I was told the in-house reservationists would be there in a few minutes. I sat very patiently, knowing all about "Italian Work Hours" and not getting the least bit upset. After all, I had no appointment, and anyway, I was having a great time people watching, and taking mental notes of what everyone was wearing, lest I not make the mistake of looking like a tourist! A very rushed, and very short Italian, of which I cannot remember his name, passed me off to his newest employee, Carlos, who had only been working at the hotel for one month. He very graciously showed me the choices of rooms that ranged from a very nice $600.00 a night suite, to a $300.00 a night junior suite, to which on the way to the lowly standard double room, he asked me what my price range was. When I prompltly replied, "$125.00 per night," Carlos's English either stopped prior to learning his numbers or he had a brain freeze, because he stopped abruptly and looked at me wide-eyed and asked, "$125.oo per night?" The tour was quickly over with all the niceties that Carlos could muster. He did say that he would work a miraculous deal of $185.00 per night for the lowly double standard room on the executive floor. I'm sure the Pope himself would have been satisfied with the standard room deal that I had just made, but it was still over my budget! After a quick walk around the beautiful pool area, that I was not going to get to use, I was back in a taxi picturing the hedge outside our room. I was calculating my next move when I was brought back to my senses with my wild ride. I said two Hail Mary's and one Our Father prayer, gripped the seat, and hung on for dear life! I managaed my first official money exchange in Euro with the taxi driver, bid him a quick ciao, and found my footing again with my feet planted firmly on the ground. Now, back at my hotel, I went to the front desk and asked to make an appointment with the in-house reservationists. Alexia was very sweet on the phone, and asked if there was a problem with our room. No except that I am a spoiled brat and want a view, thank you very much! Of course, I didn't say that, I just told her I wanted to know what our options were. It was 11:30 A.M. and Alexia made an appointment for 3:00 P.M. Great! I just had time to get my two hours of tanning I had allotted for the day. A quick change into my two piece bathing suit, that cleverly covered me up like a one piece, that took many hours to find prior to coming to the land of "non one piece bathing suit loving women," my glasses, my novel, and I was off to the pool. Through a light breeze, I could smell the sweet flowers that covered the cute cabana area on the other side of the pool, and as I melted into the wicker lounge chair, I pretended I was sunbathing at my Tuscan Villa. Back to reality, and the quest for a room with view! A quick shower and I was off to meet Alexia, and to my surprise, her boss, a very short and very round Italian, named Antonio. They both were very sweet and tried very hard to impress me with thier hotel. In the newer part of our hotel, which in reality is an entire new building down the road, was a "ROOM WITH A VIEW" and all the niceties I was hoping for. Of course it turned out to be a $500.00 per night room! Well, no problem! I was not willing to lose my room with a view again, and I reminded Antonio that we were going to be long term guest, American guest. (That should be worth something!) Antonio was all smiles and was not going to lose his long term guest to the other, NICER hotel down the street, and was going to do some math and get back to me. I think I heard the figure I needed to hear, but I don't want to jinx myself by saying it out loud. After my tour was competed, I was just about to send out my first emails in the little email closet, area that was set up for guest, when Stacey appeared. He was back earlier than expected from Naples. I filled him in on my days investigations and we went straight to look at the room with a view. The view was not of the Tuscan countryside, but of the golf course and it sent shivers up Stacey's spine, and my hopes raised for a conference call back to the boss for an adjustment to the living budget! We will make a decision after we get the final numbers from Antonio. You see, we have to be in the Rome area for at least the first three months because Stacey travels so much from one area to the next and Rome is right in the middle. Later this Fall, we may move up to the Umbria region, (next to Tuscany) because his work may focus more, day to day, in that area. So, after our first hard day in Italy, we changed our clothes and went to the fitness room to do our "work out!" Our vow is to stay in shape while we are here in the land of good eats! Well, to first get into shape and then to stay in shape while we are here in the land of good eats! After our hour work out, what did we do? We went to eat of course! Stacey took me to one of his wonderful finds. It is a family owned place and I can't remember the name just now. It is only a short 10 minute drive from our hotel to the small town of Fumocino, which just happens to sit right on the Mediterranean Sea. We had to wait for a draw bridge to raise and lower, in order to let a few sailboats and working fishing boats to pass, then we crossed over the inlet waterway. After parking our car, I got out and was standing in front of this dilapidated home. I had to just stand there and stare in disbelief at the beautiful hydrangeas growing in a ten foot plot of dirt in front of a the home. Everyone grows things in Italy, no matter where they live. Next door sat the restaurant, and we were greeted by a very friendly young man named Max. Stacey and Max acted like old friends. The restaurant was nothing fancy, but had all the standard Italian protocal that I remembered about this amazing country. Not opening before 8:00 P.M., seating inside and out, candles on every table, linen tablecloths and napkins, fresh fish purchased that morning just off the boats coming in, and two little ladies doing all the cooking in the back. I looked around and smiled witnessing once again, a scene you could watch every night, in almost every Italian eatery. Couples holding hands during their four hour meal, children sitting with their parents for the first two hours of the mea,l then pulling two chairs together to make a bed for the next two hours of the meal, like it was standard bedtime procedure. Then the meal. It was fabulous!Stacey ordered all his favorites which included fancy little appetizers, pasta, and lobster. The wine had a great story that matched it's taste. Stacey asked for it by name, and I spent a wonderful twenty minutes learning how he had discovered it. He heard the story from one of the many bartender friends he has come to know from spending so many nights sitting in hotels. It was a wine made from grapes that are grown in a little area between Rome and Naples. At one time, a Roman Emperor had made a summer home in that area and loved the wine so much, that he built a road straight from Rome to the vineyard so he could get the wine easier. Now, that's a good reason to build a road! Before leaving, Max made sure we had one last glass of Lemonchello...on the house of course!