So punk rock.Taking it all in:
We consulted our digital guide book (this phone is so damn hitchhiker's guide/star trek), and found the spot where they think Caesar and his posse chilled.Julien was ruthless.
I'm a little more forgiving.
This statue looked a lot like Julien. Hey! It is Julien. Nice one Julien.
I'm a cornball. I can't believe you read this drivel.We rode the elevator to the upper level and took in the view from above.
One thing I had hoped to do while on this trip was to find a place to sit, draw and write in my notepad at various points along our journey. I imagined that it would be a good way to relax, help me be in the moment, and take in my surroundings. Unfortunately, it's been hot, and we've been fatigued from our whacked out sleep schedule and all of the walking. It just hasn't happened. It's hard to sit still when around every corner there is something wonderful to see.We did take a moment to pause, rest, and absorb the brutal history of this place.
Through books and movies, it was easy to paint a picture of a packed arena. I could hear the cheers, the gasps, the booing and hissing. I tried to tap into the fear of being ushered into the arena to face who knows what. The crowd knew, and they'd laugh at your impending doom. The smells; they sprayed perfume to mask the stench of blood. Our digi book said that in the first 100 days, 2000 humans, and 9000 beasts were slain here. For entertainment and a means to control the masses.With the setting sun, we were asked politely to get the hell out over a crackling PA system.
We made our way to the exit, wiped out, but glad we made it inside. It was well worth it.ACK!
We dragged our screaming feet to the nearest street and hopped in a waiting taxi. This guy wasn't as jovial as our first taxi driver. Young, shaved head, douche bag sun glasses, aggressive driving, all the while worrying at a massive pimple on his temple that I think he successfully extracted while weaving through traffic. Some lady driving behind us must have offended him somehow as he waited for her to pass and shouted a long string of expletives in Italian through an open window. Middle fingers were involved, and something to do with her ass. It was all very entertaining until he dropped us off and took care of his own tip from the change. Later days d-bag.I'll note here that that was the only time so far that anyone has been shady with money. We haven't been assaulted by roving gangs of cutpurses, or short changed anywhere. The cab driver kept €2.30 when I had a €2 in my hand for him. It was worth .30 for the story. We went to our room, showered, and fell into a coma around 8. Next up, St. Peter's Square, the Vatican Museum, and the Sistine Chapel.