We wake up in our separate rooms in the Hostelling International establishment out by the Olympic Stadium. It is a peculiar feature of these hostels that, aside from the private rooms which are in perpetually short supply, they have designated male and female floors...strange, especially on a continent that is so cavalier about melon-breasted advertisement models and the like - but perhaps it is part of HI's mission to cater to all nationalities and beliefs. Whatever the reason, it is a bizarre contrast to camping in a small two-person tent, sharing a pair of sleeping bags zipped together...that said, hostels bring certain luxuries that we have long awaited: showers (which we take in both morning and night!) and fast wifi - which, this being a slow weekend morning, we take advantage of to read email and catch up on blog posts and contact potential WarmShowers/CouchSurfing hosts further down the route and upload photos and download, er, Caligula and Robot Chicken (this latter being of crucial importance to our travels!)
Among the many online tasks completed: look up a recipe for mushroom risotto. It looks relatively easy, so we grab our pots and pans and trusty camping stove, walk to the nearest supermarket, grab anything we're missing (only mushrooms, onions, wine, and butter, as it turns out - we have a suspiciously well-stocked pantry, giving the lie to our frequent claims of superior hobosity) and head down to the one spot we deem most conducive to cooking up a delicious meal. Where would that be in such a tourist destination as Rome? The river Tiber (Tevere in Italian), of course! One side of the river has a makeshift bicycle path, most of which is paved with cyclist-jarring cobblestones; the other is lined with small boating and tennis clubs, with the occasional access down to the banks...we take one of these access roads, setting up in the shadow of a road bridge not far south of the hostel. We drink most of the wine as we cook our risotto - after all, the recipe only calls for a measly half-cup of white, and it would be a true shame to waste the rest...
Now on to the more touristic parts of the day! We clean up our various dishes and head for the metro over to Repubblica in the more operatic-theatrical district of Rome, where we procure tickets for a production of Verdi's La Traviata that is slated to take place in a nearby church later tonight. Getting on the metro turns out to be more of an ordeal than expected; the machines only give up to 4€ change, our smallest bill is 20€, the only staffed booth anywhere in the labyrinthine station emphatically refuses to make change, and no one seems able to help us beyond suggesting that we buy something small in the street-level kiosks. A stupid money-grab, to be sure...but there seems to be no way around it, so we grab the cheapest item on offer and get our tickets, cursing the tourist-trappery of the whole situation...
...and soon we are holding two tickets to La Traviata at 2030. There is some time to kill; since we still have all of our dishes and pantry items with us, we book it back to the hostel to clean up and leave some of the heavier items behind before heading off to see the Vatican. The bus ride is simple and direct, except the part where it draws space-filling curves around Piazza del Risorigimento; again, however, we run into unexpected difficulties! There are two sets of checks at the Vatican. The first is a routine security check, complete with metal detectors and xray conveyor belts and the whole bit; unfortunately, clipped to our wallet is a keyring, and attached to that keyring is a small Swiss army knife. We leave the knife tucked away behind two pillars in Piazza San Pietro, hoping that it will not be taken...
...and the next check is a decency check. This being one of the high sites of Catholicism, they are quite strict about covering the shoulders and other supposedly indecent parts - and so we are soon walking out past the first security check again and grabbing a cheap tacky multicoloured Picasso shawl for Valkyrie, as her dress is not up to code. We line up again, pass through the security and decency checks, and finally gain admission to the basilica...
...but it is now 1730, and so we must make haste through the basilica. It is divided into a number of chapels, some of which house the remains (or, as we are shocked to discover, even the preserved and highly visible bodies) of deceased Popes. Sadly, most visitors forget to look up - for the domed ceilings host a number of spectacular frescoes, commissioned at great expense over the centuries. There are also a number of statues depicting various religious figures or events of importance, though with our secular leanings we are unable to identify them. We also visit the papal tombs, where grieving pilgrims crowd the space in front of the late Pope John Paul II - they toss rosaries and photos and all manner of religious iconography into the tomb, huddling and kneeling and crying as the loudspeakers blast eerily funereal music throughout the underground tunnels.
After that, we make haste up to the metro line and over to the church - but we are still early, so we hit up the nearest supermarket for some pizza and libations. Most every supermarket here carries pizza of near-restaurant quality...and such food cannot go unaccompanied! We grab a bottle of wine, then decide to chase it with a mix of off-brand Martini, tonic, and orange slices that we cram into one of our water bottles...drinking most of this, we line up for the opera and conclude that we must be simultaneously the drunkest and most underdressed people in attendance...
...and the opera is unremarkable, sadly. The confines of the church do not do it justice; these works almost invariably require a sizeable stage and a hall with the proper acoustic qualities, and the church fits neither criterion. Unfortunately, the season over at the main opera hall has just ended, and productions are on hold until October...
Another busy day in Rome - and one more closer to tomorrow, when we will once more head out on our bikes and continue this business of getting to Istanbul in the most roundabout manner possible...