We’re staying at the Hotel Condotti, where
Sarah’s parents had stayed last time they were in Rome. (And which they’ve
decided to pay for entirely, because they’re wonderful, ridiculous people). We
get to leave out bags but the rooms aren’t ready for a few more hours. We
stroll over the Spanish Steps, which are only two minutes away, and there we
try to recreate a photo of Sarah and Teddy taken here nine years ago. The two
main differences you’d notice if you compare both photos are:
- The steps are overrun with people in the new photo where they were practically empty in the last one.
- Unlike the last one, the new photo heavily features a photobombing Susannah holding a slap bracelet aloft as if that’s what we were all really here to photograph.
From there, we walk to the Borghese Gardens,
which is a very large public park (who knew these even existed in Rome?) Our
kids have started to become pains at this point, for reasons that are
alternately valid and absurd (valid: they’ve gone from the structure and
familiarity of the ship to flittering around Rome with no real goal or agenda;
absurb: Teddy wants to go back to the hotel and see what Netflix in Italy is
like.) We come across a really sad looking merry-go-round and the girls decide
they absolutely have to ride it.
Nonna puts down three euros for three rides and even though Teddy doesn’t want
to go on it, we make him, and he sits on a horse looking like he’s in a prison
camp for the length of the ride.
We go back to the hotel and get access to
our rooms. They’re huge (not just by European standards but especially by European standards.) Sarah’s
parents have their own room on the third floor, where we have adjoining rooms
on the second floor. It’s perfect for us. There’s just a big sliding door separating
both rooms, so all the kids can be in one together. It also has a cute little
balcony. The kids explored Netflix and we check out Italian TV: is short, you
can watch tennis and the TV show Psych at any day and any time. Sarah’s parents
discover that they have a neighbour who likes to blast music at top volume.
We have gelato at Venchi, which is about 40
steps from the hotel. Then we take a walk to see some churches. For the life of
me, I cannot remember the name of the first and I have no photographs of the
exterior, but I did very meticulously photograph a statue of a totally swole
Jesus that was inside. This was like does-crossfit-when-he’s-not-too-busy-being-a-Lumberjack
Jesus. The second church was Sanit Ambrogio e Carlo al Corso (visited with no
specific purpose but just because we stumbled across it.) Then we took a detour
into the Pantheon where we could not really impress the age of the building
upon our kids. Me: This temple is nearly two
thousand years old! You’ve never seen
anything this old in your life! Veronica:
I’ve seen two thousand year-old buildings. Me: Where? Veronica: In Ottawa.
Me: Where in Ottawa? Veronica: … in… Ottawa. The last church was St.
Maria Sopra Minerva, which is where St. Catherine of Sienna is buried. The
girls are in Little Flowers (a Catholic girls’ club) and Catherine of Sienna is
the Little Flower, the saint the club
is named after—so this was a must-see on our list. St. Catherine is buried
under the altar and the kids were able to see it reasonably close up. Bonus was
a super intense choir practicing
while we were there. About twenty choral singers, full orchestra, lead soprano.
Cinematically intense.
Dinner was at Café Dore. If was a Friday in
Lent, so meat was off the menu, which resulted in so much bellyaching from the children. But soon enough, they all had
bellies full of spaghetti and it was totally good. And having walked many,
many, many steps on cobblestones all day, we were all footsore and went to bed
readily soon after.
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