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Day 17
Unlike previous cities where buying tickets for the public transport had sometimes proved difficult, Rome was a breeze. There was actually a ticket machine in the hostel itself, and there are only three types of ticket – a single journey, a day, and a week. I bought a day ticket, and waited for the bus at the stop outside the hostel.The fact that I had successfully purchased a ticket with which I was allowed to travel on any form of public transport in Rome for one day may appear slightly uninteresting, but this ticket that I had confidently pocketed and thought no more about was not yet legal. Rome, like many other cities, uses a system that I think is unnecessarily complicated. You see, the ticket is not valid for travel until the holder stamps the date and time on it using one of the strategically placed validation machines.
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Day 16
My phone had long stopped working, so I had no way of knowing what the time was when I got up. I had arranged to meet John, Chris and Sunil at the Coliseum at noon, so I had plenty of time. Ten days before, I had left them in a concentration camp north of Berlin, and since then they had visited Stockholm, Copenhagen, and Hamburg.I caught the bus and metro, and arrived at ten. Looked round for something to do, and spotted a ‘time elevator’ – a simulator ride thingy classified as ‘edutainment’ all about the history of Rome. Decided to give it a go. Very Disney, but it was quite well put together. It even included a light rain shower when the character on screen ran through a storm. The basic premise is that an Italian scientist invents time travel and goes back to important events in the history of Rome, including the founding by Romulus and Remus, the rise and fall of the Roman empire, history of gladiatorial fighting, the renaissance, and modern day Rome. Apparently there is one of these in London too.
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Day 15
Arriving in Rome, the city’s budget accommodation options were a bit thin on the ground, and availability seemed limited to a huge Hostelling International place a long way from the centre. Having no real choice in the matter, I got on the metro and headed west. I had to get off at Ottavio St Petro and change to a number 32 bus, and finally arrived at the hostel realising that it was actually off my map.It was a typical HI hostel – ultra clean, but anonymous and completely devoid of any helpful utilities like power sockets. It also featured a curfew and a lockout, which wasn’t terribly helpful when it takes so long to get there from the centre.