Roma in Roma with Fernet Branca

Yesterday, Saturday, was a holiday in Italy (we never found out what for). It didn't have much effect on us as it  was our travel day up the coast from Sorrento to Aprilia. Again we had trouble finding the bed and breakfast using the GPS but using common sense we finally were successful.We had booked a room for a night at a farm in the countryside about 45 minutes from Rome. I was drawn to the animals in the on-line ad. It turned out to be a kind of farm-stay. There were two young families there with us. The people running it had been farming a long time, although it wasn't a huge operation - there were ten cows, two pigs, chickens and five dogs. They gave us a good recommendation for lunch and provided a good five course supper as well as breakfast.

 At 9:30 am we dropped our rented car off,  all safe and sound, at the Avis garage in Rome. They had driven us back to the rental office at the station when for the second time on this trip it started to absolutely bucket down rain. We were booked at the same hotel as our last visit and we thought we had a better idea of the way on foot. Again, with few road signs and no help it was confusing. There we were once more dragging our cases, while shouldering backpacks and purses (yes, Laurie got a "murse"). We made a dismal and obvious sight drudging around umbrella salesmen and up and down the curb and around giant puddles. Suddenly I stopped at a corner and hear Laurie shout, "I don't have my wallet!".  He was surrounded by Roma women with "babies" soliciting him for money.  I went back with all my luggage and whipped the blanket off the biggest "baby" ( it was a baby) and yelled at them (annoyed mother-voice) for having stolen the wallet. In the general turmoil another women comes whirling into the fray, dipsy-doodles around and then I spy the wallet laying at Laurie's feet on the street. He grabs it and the women whirl away!

Fortunately we were not far from the hotel.  We were able to store our bags until our room was ready. We headed off for a walk around Rome, less burdened and  more chastened. A coffee seemed in order to recover from the victimizing incident. Sitting inside at a table enjoying my cappuccino, I spy a bottle of the Italian liqueur Fernet Branca.  I am reading a funny book about an English man living in Italy called Cooking with Fernet Branca by James Hamilton-Paterson. I had never heard of this drink so I thought it was as good a time as any to try it. The colour is brown and the taste is like Listerine mixed with motor oil. Not yum.

Undeterred we headed off on foot to see the sights in this city (dammit). We found the Trevi Fountain (under renovation), the Spanish Steps and the walk along the Tiber river. Unfortunately in Rome you can't spit in any direction without hitting a ruin, a marble statue, a significant church or a gallery. After a while it all becomes a blur, I am sure this is what Fernet Branca was invented to address.