Tag: Musings

Rome in a Day…the Remix

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It’s my second trip to Rome and I am eager to share the experience with my friend, William (aka “Sweet Willy” because he’s just so darn cute).  We arrive at the Roma Termini station and walk about 15 minutes to our hotel.  As we are walking:

William:  Did you just see that car?

Me:  What?

William:  The General Lee Smart Car…did you just see that?

Me:  I have no idea what you are talking about.  I’m looking at hotel signs.

William:  We have to go back so I can take a picture because nobody will believe this.

*we walk back to take the picture*

William:  That’s nice.  An eco-friendly racist.

Me:  Really Rome?  That’s what’s hot in the streets?  Did we just time travel to the mid-80s?  Bo & Luke can’t jump into a little ass Smart Car.  Cooter doesn’t know how to fix this!  He’s got 3 wrenches and an oil can.   Did Daisy give up the Jeep and start taking public transportation?  Uncle Jesse and I can’t take all this.  It’s too much.

We finally leave the Italian General Lee and find our hotel.  Upon check-in, I ask if we can store our bags the next day while we are sightseeing.

Me:  Can we store our bags after we check-out in the morning?

Buddy:  For how long?

Me:  Just a few hours.

Desk Clerk:  How many bags do you have?

Me:  [thinking *Man, what is the problem?  You can either store the bags or not.  Isn’t that standard service at a hotel?* but New Nikki responded] 4

Desk Clerk:  *long sigh & acting put upon* I guess

Me & William: *side-eye*

After we get settled in the room, we decide not to go out since we needed to be up early to do a lot of sightseeing.  So, William does some work and I turn on the tv and see this program called “Il Canto”.  Y’all ain’t ready for Il Canto.  It’s like American Idol + America’s Got Talent + So You Think You Can Dance + Top Chef + Project Runway + The Bachelor.  The program is like 6 hours long with people of all ages, group sings, dancing, judging, and guest appearances.  I still don’t know what it was.  There was this kid who looked to be maybe 12 and I think he won his part of the singing competition (but who knows because it was like he was there in concert or something).  You could not tell him that he wasn’t a star.  He had hand gestures, facial expressions and teeth spaced about an inch apart.

Me:  Wow, I can’t take it.  He is doing runs like he’s Mariah.

William:  You know he just got beat up backstage.

Me:  Why?

William:  Too nerdy.  He can sing…but once he leaves the stage, Giuseppe is waiting there with the beat down to take his lunch money.  If he was in NY, they would just roll up on you like, “yo son, that’s a nice coat.  What size is that?  A small?  Really?  That’s just my size.  You can give it to me or I’ma take it.  It’s on you, B.”

A little later:

Me:  Did that little girl just sing an R. Kelly song?

William:  You can’t keep Kells down.  I wonder what the legal age of consent is here?

Then, we decided to make-up translations to the interviews since we couldn’t understand what they were saying.  When the host was interviewing a sound guy after some little kid did a horrible rendition of Aretha’s “RESPECT”, we translated it as follows:

Me (as the host, Bruno):  Silvio, what did you think of little Pashmina singing “RESPECT”.  Did you find out what it meant to her?  And, did she take out the ECT?

William (as the sound guy, Silvio):  Bruno, she sucked.  And, this show has run into my overtime so you know you are paying me time and a half, right?  This ain’t a telethon.

Me:  Silv, don’t worry about the OT.  Clearly you need the money because those skinny pink jeans ain’t doing you no favors.  Now get back on the soundboard and make sure my mic sounds nice.

After two hours of Il Canto, the Sleep Monster got us and it was a wrap.

…

We get up, have breakfast and check-out to start our self-guided “Rome in a Day” power sightseeing tour.  We start off by going to The Forum and see a guy dressed up as a Trojan.

William:  Where are Trojans from?

Me:  Trojania?

The Trojan asks if we want to take a picture so we oblige…

 

…then, as William is pulling out some coins to tip, Mr. Trojan was like, “That’s gonna be €10.”  After looking startled, we realized we just got hustled.  By a man in a costume.  Chuck E Cheese doesn’t charge you for pictures!  Of course, Chuck just walks around leering at you so I guess you have to pick your poison.  Yes, I have issues with Chuck.  Don’t judge me 🙂

It’s the start of the day and we are trying to be positive.  We pay for the Roma Pass (which is a smart buy for sightseeing in Rome) then pick up an audio guide and a map.  The Roman Forum really is spectacular with all the ancient remnants.  However, it only has fragments of buildings & statues so it’s hard to know what is what.  The map was even more confusing.  The numbers didn’t correspond to the information boards outside some of the sites.  Then, we attempted to use the audio guide.

William:  I think we are at site 7.

Me:  Okay, push play and let’s see.

[The audio guide has a British man giving a 20 minute soliloquy about columns and statues and if you look into the sun you can see Caesar or something we cannot find for the life of us.  It almost felt like we had a learning disability because the sites are numbered so any 2-year-old should be able to do this.]

William:  What is he talking about?

Me:  I don’t know.  I thought you knew.

William:  No!  And, he is still talking.  It’s been what?  45 minutes?  Why can’t he just give an executive summary and say, “to your left is an arch, now turn your ass around and walk?”

Me:  Really?  That’s how they do in New York?  You have ADD.

In the end, we used Rick Steve’s Italy guidebook and just took pictures.  The Roman Forum was ancient Rome’s birthplace and civic center.  This was the place where anything important happened in ancient Rome.

     

After walking thru The Forum, we head over to Palantine Hill. This is where the emperors chose to live and it was once filled with palaces.  It includes the “huts of Romulus and Remus”, the Imperial Palace, the House of Livia and Augustus and a view of Circus Maximus.

   

William:  Are those olive trees?

Me:  Looks like it but I don’t know.

William goes to pull an “olive” off the tree.  Meanwhile, I see Woodrow (Petey the Pigeon’s cousin) picking at food on the ground and he passes right over the “olive”.   Of course, he is getting the side-eye because I haven’t forgotten what Petey did yesterday in Florence.

Me:  Uh, did you just see that pigeon take a bite of one of those “olives” and leave it right there on the ground?  Don’t eat that.

William:  Why not?  I’ll wash it off.  You gotta build up your immune system.

Me:  Really?  You need to follow Woodrow’s lead and keep it moving.

Then, he notices citrus trees that seem to have some sort of fruit like oranges hanging from it.  But, as none of it is hanging low enough for him to get, William has to content himself with the “olive”.

William:  This could keep me from getting scavies.

Me:  What the hell is scavies?  A new hybrid flu of rabies and scurvy?

William takes a bite of the “olive” and discovers that it may not actually be an olive but it’s too nasty to figure out.

Me:  See?  Did I not just tell you that Woodrow was even like, “I’ll pass”.

We leave Palantine Hill and make our way to the Colosseum.

   

The Colosseum is a 2,000 year old building where ancient Romans used to watch gladiators, criminals and wild animals fight to the death.  And, it is one of the most beautiful structures in the world.  I could just sit and stare at it all day.  The first time I saw it, I was overwhelmed…imagine being in a place where people walked thousands of years ago!

Outside the Colosseum, there are “tour guides” prowling around trying to sell you on purchasing some of their time to walk you around and tell you the true little known “facts” about the site.  Since we had already been hustled once that day, we decided to pass and read what Rick had to say.

As we are walking around, we can overhear other tour guides and it occurs to us that we could do this as a side business too.

William:  You know, we could set up our own tour company and give them the “real” experience.

Me:  Yeah, we just need to market it right.

William:  We’ll just be like, “yo son…you wanna know the real deal of why Caesar got shanked?”  And, “This right here is where Jesus told everybody to get their souls right.”

Me:  Really?  We still doing the NY state of mind right now?  And, what are you going to do when you get Mr. I Know My History fact checking you?

William:  Throw him off the tour.  I’ll just say “Were you there?  You don’t know me.  I’m a descendant of Caesar.  He was my great, great, great to the 20th power granddaddy so shut up.”

Me:  *crickets*

William:  *ignoring the crickets*  We can get on the computer and create some tour guide certifications.  Tell them that we majored in “tourification” and we aren’t just some random tour guides off the streets.

Me:  So now we are “tourologists”?  How many of those olives did you eat?  Is this the scavies talking?  Does it cause dementia?

William:  We could even take them into the basement of the Colosseum.

Me:  The basement?  You mean the ground floor where they kept the folks that were about to killed by animals?  That’s closed off.

William:  Exactly.  That’s gonna make our tour hot.  It’s rogue…going where nobody can go.

Me:  Uh huh.  That tour will last 30 seconds.

As we are walking around, we come up with a scheme to offer to take people’s pictures for them so they will take pictures of us.

Me:  Maybe after we take their picture, we tell them it’s €10.  Get our hustle on like the Trojan guy.

William:  I wonder what he does for “Take Your Daughter to Work Day”.

Me:  Probably has her out there hustling too.

As we leave the Colosseum, I am focused on getting back to the entrance to The Forum so I can get my passport back since I left it to secure the audio guide device.  Now, William is all laissez-faire about this as it wasn’t his passport.  He offered up job ideas should I not be able to get back to the U.S. (William:  That tour guide idea is hot.).  We get turned around and I’m looking at the map trying to find the entrance.  As we start walking to the entrance, we come across these “mimes” that paint themselves up and stay as still as a statue.  Some are better than others.  This guy was great!

A couple of meters away from him, we see a duo performing.

William:  Are those Native Americans?

Me:  Uh, I see the feathers on the headdress and I hear the music but I don’t think the Romans stole this from them too.

William:  I’m confused.  Why are they here?

Me:  Outsourcing?

William:  Are they selling cds?

Me:  Everybody got a hustle.  Maybe they are signed to Black Widow Records in Genoa???

We finally get to the entrance of The Forum and as they give me back the passport, I realize that it wasn’t even mine.  It was William’s.  HAHAHAHAHA.  Apparently, we inadvertently switched passports when they were returned to us at the hotel.

Me:  So who is being a mime on the street when they can’t get back to the states now?

William:  You could’ve done tours.

Me:  Well, you know Atlanta is the #1 tourist city in the U.S.

William:  Get out.  Where did you get that statistic from?

Me:  GET OFF MY TOUR!  YOU DON’T KNOW ME!  YOU AIN’T A TOUROLOGIST!  WHERE ARE YOUR PAPERS?  YOU GOT THAT TOURIFICATION CERTIFICATE?  NO?  THEN YOU LEAVE THE STATS TO THE PROFESSIONALS.

William:  You need serious help.

By this time, we are headed towards the Pantheon.

 

Once we arrive, we see non-Italian ethnic groups selling purses and scarves.

William:  You think that is real Prada?

Me:  Is the Prada on Canal Street real?

We go inside the Pantheon, look around and take pictures.  Now it’s time for a gelato break.  Which must occur every few hours or you can get low blood sugar 🙂  After getting my gelato, we walk toward the Trevi Fountain.  People throw coins into the fountain to guarantee a return visit.  The coins are collected to feed Rome’s poor.

 

Then, it was on to the Spanish Steps.

After leaving the Spanish Steps, we walk around the posh shopping district and window shop.  Then we come upon a guy selling nuts…13 for €5.

William:  €5 for 13 nuts with some salt sprinkled on them?  Are they serious?  I can get that at home for $1.50.

Me:  These are special Roman nuts.  You don’t know ‘bout them, son.  They may be like Red Bull and give you wings.

At this point, we are completely exhausted and have to climb 1400 steps to walk back to the hotel.  We end up stopping by St. Peter in Chains Basilica since we didn’t make it to Vatican City.  That was another 1000 steps to climb.  St Peter’s in Chains is where they keep the chains that were used on Peter during his incarceration.

It also hosts Michelangelo’s sculpture of Moses.

On the way back, there was a guy playing typical Italian songs the accordion.  William wanted to get a picture with him.

William:  Uh, he smelled heavily of liquor.

Me:  That’s how rock stars do.  They have to get lit up to rock the stage…or in this instance, the steps.

Afterwards, we go to the hotel to get our bags…which were sitting in the hallway.  What kind of security system is that?  No id, just sitting out for anybody to take.  We were lucky they were there.  The desk clerk is still getting the side-eye as I type this.

Sweet Willy and I are so tired by this point, we suck it up and decide to pay for a taxi to the train station for our 4 hour ride back to Genoa.

Overall, it was a jam-packed weekend but we had a great time and got to see a lot.  Special thanks to Sweet Willy for flying all the way out to Italy for the weekend to keep me company and hang out in the IT.  I had a blast!

The Secret World of Pompeii

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Okay, y’all ain’t ready for this.  I wasn’t ready.  As you know, I like to give you a little flavor along with the history of the sites I visit.  Well, when our tour guide gave us the background on what life was really like in Pompeii before it was destroyed, it was like I was listening to “E True Hollywood Story: Pompeii”.  There is just so much.

First, the excavation site was visually more stunning than I expected.  Second, I was amazed that so many ancient homes were still somewhat intact.  I can’t even imagine my house being around thousands of years from now.

As we are walking, the guide tells us about the people of Pompeii.  I’m listening kind of lazily while taking pictures.  I mean, I’d just hiked up a volcano so my attention span was on a downward spiral.  Anyway, the guide says a series of things that capture and hold my interest for the rest of the day.

1.            Pompeii had an open sewer.  That’s right; Pompeii’s theme song was “Funkytown”.  I know…I couldn’t really believe it either.  I had to ask for clarification because it just seemed too nasty to be real.  Feces and urine would run down the streets and they would wait for the rain to wash it away.  Sorry for you if it happened to be a dry month.  You can see in this picture that there are huge stones that the people would use to cross the street (I like to call it “Doo Doo Crossing”) so they wouldn’t have to step in that crap (you know they only wore sandals which meant if they stepped in it, then they got the full effect).  I am sure that folks inevitably fell off the stones.  Maybe that is where the saying “Oh, sh*t!” came from?

2.            The rich folks in Pompeii were pompous.  Apparently, the good citizens of Funkytown liked to show off their wealth.  When you went over to Titus’s house, he had his treasure chest open on the front table so you could see how rich he was.  Also, they had a tiled mosaic of a big dog with “beware of dog” (in Latin) in the foyer.  So, basically, they invited you over and said, “Hey, look at all my money…but don’t try to take it because Fido will kill you.  More wine?”  This was well before the time of Occupy Pompeii Street.

  

3.            Pompeii was full of freaks.  Apparently, Pompeii was where the party was at.  They had 80 bars and 25 brothels.  With the open sewer.  I am not able to get past the open sewer so let’s just address that now.  It’s gonna come up…often.  Anyway, the freaks did come out at night and they were doing things that Rick James couldn’t even dream of.  Modern Pompeii is full of people selling erotic calendars, statues, playing cards, etc (see below).  Now, I originally thought these sexual position scenes may have been their version of “art” back then.  But, the guide pointed out that they posted these scenes in the bedrooms of the whorehouses as a “menu of services” (just like McDonald’s).  You know I was looking to see what the “goings on” were (purely for research purposes only).  You ain’t ready for that.  A menu of sexual services.  Seriously.  After getting your drank on at one of the 80 bars then crossing and falling into the open sewer, you go over to Octavia’s and ask for a #3.  Love it.

 

4.            Funk is a theme.  Now, the good people of Pompeii didn’t have bath tissue back then so they had to make do.  The lower caste folks would just wipe their booty with the left hand and eat with the right (they didn’t have forks or spoons back then which means they really needed both hands).  The rich folks would use a communal sea sponge for the family.  I’m gonna let that marinate for a minute.  Imagine you and your family all using the same sponge to wipe after doing #2.  I guess if they can deal with the open sewers, they can deal with a communal sponge.  They also used urine to bleach their clothes.  Really?  My dog would love that.

5.            They had cafes!  We found these bars with counters.  People would come in during the day and have bread and wine.  They paid their money and would sit at tables to socialize.  I never imagined an ancient civilization with marble counters!

 

It broke my heart to see the castes of the human & canine remains that were preserved from the lava and ash.  You can see the remains below of a man, dog and slave.

  

Overall, Pompeii was fascinating!  I highly recommend a visit if you ever plan to be in the Naples or Sorrento area.

        

E True Versailles Story: Royals Gone Wild

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I decided to tour Versailles.  Since I had such a great time on the Night Bike Tour in Paris, I booked the Versailles tour through Fat Tire Bike Tours as well.  The tour lasts approximately 8.5 hours so it’s a full day of riding & sightseeing.

While in Paris, we ride our bikes from the bike shop to the train station (which is about 10 minutes away), then put the bikes on the train for a 20 minute ride to Versailles.  Once we arrive, we pedal over to the farmer’s market to buy food for our picnic that afternoon.

The market is fantastic!  You can really go broke (because a tray of raspberries and other fruit cost me 17 euros) but the freshness of the food is unbelievable.  I ended up buying some fruit, tomatoes, green beans, rotisserie chicken and water.  I passed on buying a bottle of wine as I remembered the drunk pedaling from before.  So, after we load up the bikes with our purchases, we bike over to the grounds of the Palace of Versailles (or as it is called in French, Château de Versailles).

Apparently, they try to keep the château & grounds true to history so the horses and sheep are there for decoration which has to be a pretty plush job for them.  Our fabulous tour guides are Sadie and Matt.

Okay…I hope I remember all the history correctly.  If there are inaccuracies, then let me know.  Versailles used to be the hunting grounds of King Louis XIII and was made the capital of France by King Louis XIV (“KL14”) from 1682 until the French Revolution which started in 1789.  Three kings lived in Versailles (KL14 who built the Palace of Versailles, KL15 who enjoyed it, and KL16 who paid for it…with his head).

The Palace is lavish…in fact, it’s downright gaudy.  You know how some folks just don’t know that less is more?  Well, that was the Louis’.  In the end, all that flash came back to bite them in the butt.

This place has a lot of gold…like Mr. T had been their architect and interior designer.  They just covered everything with flowers and paintings.  It was like they had to have it all.  Even if it didn’t quite blend in with the décor.  They’d just see something, buy it, put it in a room and name it a certain “salon”.

Apparently, the Dauphin & Dauphine (king and queen) had their own set of suites on opposite sides of the palace.  And, considering all the mistresses that KL14 & 15 had, it’s no surprise.

The dining room was called the “Hall of Mirrors” and is 250 feet long, with 17 arched windows and 17 matching arched mirrors that look at the garden.  The literature states that it “reflects an age when beautiful people loved to look at themselves.”  I saw the portraits of a lot of folks back then and um…let’s just say that beauty is truly in the eye of the beholder.  Maybe it’s just me but I think I’ve only seen 1 portrait of someone who I thought was attractive.  Otherwise, they just all looked plain.  And, a couple of the women look like men dressed in drag.  I mean, it was a painting so they could’ve done some photoshopping and prettied them up with a few strokes of the paintbrush.  One woman was painted with a light mustache.  If that was me, the painter would’ve have been shown the door.  Make me thinner & prettier…not fatter and more masculine.

Sorry, I digressed.  Guess I got caught up in all the beauty.  Back to the dining room.  It was huge.  But KL14 (or as he named himself, the “Sun King”) felt like he needed more space to entertain.  So, he made all the people move out of the village of Trianon so he could build a SECOND DINING ROOM!  Apparently, pretty people need a lot of space to eat.  KL14 went all out.  Nothing was too good…he even had the marble brought in from Italy.  KL14 was spending the money from France’s treasury on furnishing his home like he was at the strip club making it rain.  One figure I heard was that he spent HALF of what was in the treasury.  So, he kicked the folks out the area and named the dining hall after the village in honor of them.  I’m sure they appreciated that sentiment as they were living under a bridge.

If anything, KL14 needed to be building a shower and bathtub because it is rumored that he only bathed two or three times in his life.  I was reading The Raucous Royals (because I love gossip & scandal even if it’s hundreds of years old), and it stated that “In King Louis XIV’s day, people thought a good, thick, grimy layer of filth would keep you healthy and strong.  They believed water spread diseases by penetrating the pores of the skin and then infecting the bloodstream.  Most people didn’t bathe more than once a year. The wealthy did change their linen throughout the day because they believed that the linen wicked away sweat and dirt, but they still stunk.”  And that made no logical sense.  Come on, France.  To combat the smells, the men and ladies in KL14’s court would douse themselves with perfumes and powders.  So, imagine being back in that day and having to smell Jean-Claude’s funk mixed with Cody Wild Musk for Men.  Ewwww.

To be fair, the book stated that KL14 was so clean that he was almost fussy about it. “He often bathed in a big Turkish bath.  When not in his bath, he rubbed spirits or alcohol on his skin (perfume gave him headaches), which acted as a disinfectant. And, as if that were not enough, he changed his undies three times a day!”  The book also said that KL14 towered over his subjects at an amazing 6’10”. Unfortunately, he was only 5’4” when naked.  “To compensate for his short stature, he wore a twelve-inch-high wig and six-inch red heels. But this was one look that no one could copy. King Louis XIV decreed that only the king could wear red heels.”  Only the king wears Prada, y’all.

Now, this book also said that Queen Elizabeth 1 would bleach her teeth with dog urine so keep that in mind when judging the veracity of their information.  Regardless of bathing or not, whatever he did it must have paid off because KL14 lived to the ripe old age of seventy-seven and was king for seventy-two years, longer than any other French monarch in history.

So, KL14 builds up a lavish palace and dies then KL15 assumes the throne (after a regency period since he was only 5 when his great-granddaddy went to the gilded gates).  KL15 was known as the playboy extraordinaire.  He claims to have had 5000 mistresses.  Okay, Wilt Chamberlain.  One mistress, Marie Anne de Maillynesle, put together a business plan for her future when her looks started to fade.  She figured out that KL15 liked his women more than ruling so when she felt like she was getting too old, instead of having him kick her to the curb…she became a pimp and procured women for him.  However, she wanted more power…and since he didn’t really want to govern anything outside the bedroom, he let A Pimp Named Marie Anne run the country.  She would just start wars (like the Seven Years War) so she could resolve them and have even more power.  The most famous of his mistresses are Madame du Pompadour and Madame du Barry.  Of course, with all the sleeping around he was doing, you know they all had cooties.  How are you going to be scared of water but not STDs?  Come on, France.

We then pedal over to the Hamlet of The Domaine de Marie Antoinette (aka The Hamlet).  In order to understand the significance of The Hamlet, I’ll give you a bit of background about the events leading up to the French Revolution.  As I stated above, KL14 & 15 were living the high life by spending money on buildings, wars, clothes and women.

Then, KL16 comes along.  He was set to marry Marie-Antoinette after the Seven Years War as a way to solidify peace between France & Austria.  The story goes that KL16 was a nerdy kid who, at 15 (the age he married Marie-Antoinette), preferred to collect bugs & locks than look at women.  Then, there was the supposedly beautiful Marie-Antoinette (“MA”).  Sigh.  I saw the painting.  We’ll give her a pass.  So, “beautiful” MA marries KL16 at the age of 14.  Her primary goal was to get knocked up with some heirs.  But, KL16 wanted to go out and collect fireflies and pick locks.  And, MA, having read the precursor to the book, “He’s Just Not That Into You” was upset.  Which many women can sympathize with.  It’s one thing to be rejected by a fine man.  Quite another to be rejected by the French Urkel.  MA tries to seduce KL16 to no avail.  People start looking at her all suspiciously because she hasn’t gotten knocked up yet.  So, she did what most women do when they are depressed.  No, not eat chocolate and binge drink (or maybe that’s just me).  She went shopping.  And spent MASSIVE amounts of money on all the latest fashions.  Where did that money come from?  The treasury into which folks paid their taxes.

Finally, 7 years later, MA gets pregnant.  Maybe she put on some kinky ladybug lingerie and rubbed her legs together like a spider to entice KL16.  Who knows?  She ended up having 4 kids.  After having her kids, she decided that she wanted to know what it was like to live like a peasant…so she had The Hamlet built.

This “peasant village” was basically a big dollhouse & playground.  She had sheep that she would have dyed a different color each day depending on her mood.  She then would pretend to milk a cow into a porcelain bowl.  Her peasant dresses were tailored.  You can only imagine from the pictures how much this little playground cost the taxpayers.  And, apparently, when the villagers saw her making a mockery of their lives…well, let’s just say that karma is a ______.

MA had her own place with a moat around it and required KL16 to send a written request before coming to visit.  Legend is that she had a Swedish lover that she would meet at the Temple of Love she had built for their rendezvous (which was not at all discreet…Temple of Love, Marie?  Seriously?).  With 80 acres of land, they could slip off and not be seen by anybody.

After the French monarchy were on MTV’s “Cribs”, the bourgeoisie class (which were the middle class and merchants) were like, “WTF?”  They were tired of seeing their hard-earned money go to waste.  People were starving because taxes had risen dramatically to pay for such a lavish lifestyle in Versailles.  So, they ended up signing the “Tennis Court Treaty” where they wrote a constitution and basically decided to revolt.  Which, I don’t know why KL16 didn’t see this coming.  The French had just helped out the US for the American Revolutionary War…put down the bugs, buddy.  You know the Americans were like, “Listen, Pierre, you gots to get out now.  You think I’m gonna let George tell me what to do?  I’m not calling him “king”.  Plus, I think he’s got a mental illness and I don’t have time for the drama.  Britain can kick rocks!!! U-S-A-U-S-A-U-S-A.  What?  Is he your master now?  Can he beat you up?  You need to take notes and tell Louis that France don’t have time for bug collectin’ and prancing around in stockings and high heels while folks can’t buy bread!  Revolt, man!”  While KL16 was collecting butterflies, the French were collecting guns.

So, the French Revolution starts in 1789 when KL16 finally gets a clue that something is going on and sends his army into Paris to put the smack down.  The citizens think the soldiers are about to attack and get all Matrix on them and storm the battalion to set free the political prisoners…of which there were only 5; and get the gun powder which was stored there.  Then, the fishmonger women (you know, the women who work at the docks) started marching on Versailles and surrounded the Palace.  Finally, KL16 & MA surrendered under the condition that they would live under house arrest at the Louvre.

They lived at the Louvre for a few years but when they saw the guillotine had been built and folks were getting beheaded…well, they came up with an escape plan.  I think it’s now pretty obvious that KL16 is no mastermind.  MA passed out her tailored haute couture peasant clothes and they snuck out of the Louvre in the dead of night and probably would’ve made it to freedom had KL16 not refused to take a nondescript peasant carriage.  He said he’d only ride in the royal carriage.  Sigh.  That kinda defeats the purpose of discretion.  Once they convince him to take a Kia carriage, they end up being stopped by a patrolman outside the city.  KL16’s face is on all currency so it didn’t take long for the patrolman to figure out KL16 (aka “The French MacGyver”) was trying to escape.  Somehow, he just wasn’t getting the concept of subterfuge.  So, of course they get caught.  Then, they both end up getting beheaded.  KL16 first…and MA almost a year later after she had been humiliated.  Folks hated MA by this point and would just take any opportunity to ridicule her.

In the end, the whole family (except for 1 daughter) ended up dying.  It’s pretty sad.

But, the grounds are beautiful!  After riding around and looking at the gardens, we had a picnic on the grounds behind the palace.

Finally, I walked through this hall where a guy in period costume was playing chess against at least 12 people…and he beat everybody sitting there.  Most people stare at the board for a while before making a move.  This guy didn’t spend more than 30 seconds thinking of each move…would take whatever piece that was yours and move on to the next player.

Overall, Versailles is gorgeous.  The Palace itself is okay (if you are into that type of thing).  I thought the grounds, gardens and the Domaine de Marie-Antoinette were the most interesting.

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Roaming Thru Rome

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[This is the post that started it all…my very first trip overseas!  I sent this email to friends & family in June 2007.  It still cracks me up.]

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Hello, everybody!  I have been in Rome less than 48 hours and so far, my trip has been like a Greek tragedy.

Act 1 “Getting to Rome”

I was booked on an US Air flight (from now on, I’ll be referring to them as Beelzebub Airlines, i.e. the Devil, or just B for short because it’s easier).  Anyway, I had a B flight from Atlanta to Philly with just 1 hour for a layover before my connecting flight to Rome.  Now, I knew it would be cutting it close should there be a delay but there wasn’t anything I could do.  So, the flight from Atlanta gets delayed because there was too much “air traffic” in Philly.  How long is the delay?  One hour.  Yes, I said 1 hour.  The exact time I had between connections.  So, the B pilot (I’m just gonna call him “Cooter”) tells us that B always pads the flight duration times so we will arrive at 5:15pm.  I had a 6:05pm connecting flight.  As Cooter is flying the plane he starts talking about altitude and the sunshine and other things I don’t really care about.  I care about him increasing the speed on that jet so I could catch my flight.  A 7-year-old girl looks at her watch (apparently the watch that Cooter doesn’t own) and announces that it is 5:25pm and we haven’t even begun to descend from the sky.  I ask the flight attendant about options to hold my connecting flight by a few minutes.  Of course, they can’t promise that but did say they would have an electric cart waiting to drive me over to the next concourse.

We finally land and I get off the plane around 5:45pm.  Was there an electric cart waiting?  I think you know the answer.  My Mom calls to let me know that they’ve already boarded the flight and I need to get there now because they are about to close the door.  So, I’m running like OJ thru the airport (without the knife or a Bronco) because there was no electric cart.  I get to the gate and the less-than-friendly gate agent says, “We gave your seat away.”  I responded with “Oh, so I’m flying first class now, right?”  She said, “As of right now, you don’t even have a seat on the plane.”  I just looked at her and thought to myself “Hmm, I’m gonna be on this flight if I have to sit with the pilot” and then wondered what kind of in-flight service he received because I’m sure he’s eating better than coach.  She eventually finds a seat for me and I am able to board.

Act II “Arrival to Rome”

I arrive in Rome and guess who doesn’t have their bags?  If you guessed me, then you are correct.  I don’t have one article of clothing because I packed everything except for toiletries.  I report my luggage as lost and started with my day.  Rome is BEAUTIFUL.  The experience of being here is hard to explain.  However, I will share with you a few tidbits on the craziness that’s happened to me.

Since I don’t have any clothes, I had to go shopping.  Now, something I didn’t know about Rome is that they apparently hate fat people.  And, by fat people, that would be anybody that wears a U.S. size 6 and above.  I go to a store and pull a couple of dresses off the rack to try on.  I select a medium and a large (thinking that they might run a little small).  A saleswoman (I’m calling her “Nunya” because she was all in my business without needing to be) walks up and looks over my shoulder at the sizes I picked up and says loudly (because apparently fat people are deaf too) “Jeeww need an EXTRA EXTRA LARGE”.  I looked around thinking that maybe she was talking to someone else but she was all up in my face.  So, I was like, “Um, I don’t wear that large of a size.  This will be fine.” and go about my business of browsing the new “Crack/Smack” summer collection (because wasn’t nobody gonna fit them clothes unless they hit the pipe).  So, Nunya disappears to what I thought was to mind her business.  I was wrong.  She comes out of the back room with an XXL size dress (I guess they leave the fat clothes in a special “Baby Got Back Room” or something) and then announces to the entire store “NOOO, JEEWWW NEED DIS EXTRA EXTRA LARGE.  IT STRETCHES SO IT HELPS YO HIPS!”  Um, what?  My mind is screaming, “I know she ain’t talking to me.”  I refuse to buy a size that I spent a year of hard dieting to leave behind.  I wish I would by an XXL!  I wear small and medium.  I don’t care if America is lying to me about my size.  Lie to me, America.  I don’t want to know the truth.  Clearly, I can’t handle the truth.  So, I take the Jabba-the-Hut-sized dress and decided to try it on to prove to her that it was too big.  Game on, sister!  Well, to my surprise…that sucker barely fit.  So, um…game off.  My face was TIGHT!  I was like, “oh hecks naw.”  When did I become an XXL?   Oh my God.  I’m the light-skinned Precious!  As I’m having my meltdown, Nunya says, “See, the fab-er-ic stret-chas fo jeww.”  I just had to leave the store because my nerves were shot.

As I left the store and fumed all the way up the street, I started wishing I had some gelato to ease the pain of being called fat.  Eventually, I find another store, and pick out a couple of outfits.  But since the clothes are sized different, I wasn’t sure which size was appropriate.  The sales guy (let’s call him “Antonio”) told me that I wear a 2.  I was like “Is that a fat girl size?  Because I ain’t buying a fat girl size.”  At this point, my Mom is just looking away and laughing because other people in the store are looking at me like I’m crazy.  Whatever.  I was serious.  NO FAT GIRL CLOTHES!  My experience with Nunya had scarred me and I needed someone to talk me down and it was Antonio’s job to do it.  He turned on the Italian charm and I finally found an outfit that fit then paid an astronomical amount because everything is expensive.  If any of you are looking to do an outreach ministry, consider donating to me.  Thanks!

Act III “Fat Brownie does Rome”

I thought my bags would arrive the next day…they didn’t.  Thanks, Beelzebub Airlines!  So, I had to go thru the shopping process all over again but decided to check out a different area.  During my second sojourn into the trials and tribulations of being a big girl, I noticed something else…they don’t sell underwear.  Well, they sell it sparingly and for a small fortune…like it is illegal or something.  I asked at least 3 or 4 women where I could find underwear.  At one store (I’ll call it “Skelewear” because you had to be a skeleton to fit the clothes), nobody spoke English.  I know very limited Italian and used it up ordering a sandwich (big girls gotta eat).  So, the lady says “yesa, I speaka a leetle englese.”  I ask if she knew of anyplace that sold underwear.  Her response?  “Yes.  No.  No.  Grazie” and she walks away.  Yes, no, no, grazie?  The hell?  After walking around to a few stores, I finally found a pair of underwear.  One pair costs $25 euro (since it wasn’t Spanx and that is apparently what I need to wear some clothes around here, I just passed)!  I thought about finding Fabrizio on the corner and asking him if he could get me some Hanes off the black market for $5 euro.  Somebody has to have the hook-up around here.  I tried on more clothes, of which nothing fit.  By now, my nerves are shot, I’m joining Weight Watchers online and looking for an Italian Lane Bryant.  I end up borrowing clothes from my mother and other people on the tour.  Because I’m too fat for Rome and have no luggage.  How about that?

Act IV “My Daddy”

We went to see the Trevi Fountain and there was a guy that was dressed up kind of like the Statue of Liberty — faced painted gray with a gray robe holding a torch.  I then realized it was an actual person…not a statue.  So, I say discreetly to my father, “Dad, watch your step because you are about to back up on that guy.”  He looks around and says loudly to the entire group of 37 people “HEY!!!  THAT’S AN ACTUAL GUY.  I THOUGHT IT WAS A STATUE!  BRENDA, GET ME THE CAMERA SO I CAN TAKE A PICTURE.”  All up in the man’s face.  I was like, “What didn’t you understand about me being discreet?”

All in all, Italy really has been an amazing experience — 10,000 Miles by Air, 700 Miles by Bus, and 100 Miles by Foot (well, that may be a slight exaggeration).  Seeing the ruins up close is something I really can’t describe.

Here are my favorites:

The Roman Forum — All Roads Lead to Rome

    

The Fonatana di Trevi was created by Nicola Salvi in 1762 and is Rome’s largest and most famous fountain.  You can see the central figure is Neptune and he is flanked by two Tritons (one trying to master an unruly seahorse and the other leading a quieter beast).  This is supposed to symbolize the contrasting moods of the sea.  It’s estimated that each day 22 million gallons of water flow thru the fountain.  This is the original site of the Aqua Virgo aqueduct built by Agrippa in 19 BC to channel water to Rome’s new bath complexes.  It may have been named for a girl named, Trivia, who is said to have first shown the spring to thirsty Roman soldiers.  Legend has it that if you toss a coin into the fountain, you are guaranteed to return to Rome.  I’ve been back to Rome twice since that time.

 

The Spanish Steps (aka Piazza di Spagna) is the most famous square in Rome and takes its name from the Palazzo di Spagna, built in the 17th century to house the Spanish embassy to the Holy See.

The Colosseum is known as Rome’s greatest amphitheater.  It was commissioned by Emperor Vespasian in AD 72.  In this theater, up to 55,000 spectators could watch gladiators fight each other or wild animals.  During the inaugural games in AD 80, approximately 9,000 wild animals were killed.  Slaves could gain their freedom by fighting men or wild animals to the death.  I guess you fight for freedom or die trying.

  

The Pantheon is also known as the Roman “temple of all the gods.  It’s the best preserved ancient building in Rome.  It was built (and possibly designed) by Emperor Hadrian in AD 118.  It’s interesting in that during the 7th century, permission was granted to turn the temple into a church when Christians claimed by be plagued by demons as they passed by the building.  Today, it’s lined with tombs and holds the bodies of Italian monarchs.

 

Other than the clothing situation, things have been wonderful.  The men are absolutely gorgeous and I’ve had several people say that I look like I’m 18.  Which is great since I’m just a couple of years older than that 🙂  Please pray for me that I receive my luggage soon.  Otherwise, no telling what you might see on CNN.  I might be in the studio with Sir Mix-a-lot working on the Italian version of “Baby Got Back”!  Ha!  Until then…ciao!

Race Series: How I Survived the Paris-Versailles 16K Race!

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Running an international race was on my bucket list this year so I jumped at the chance of participating in the Paris-Versailles 16K (which is 10 miles)!  I had run a half marathon earlier this year so I thought it would be a piece of cake.  Wrong.  I was required to have my doctor sign a medical waiver (clue #1).  Since I love Paris and Versailles, I thought this would be a great idea and it would give me a chance to see some beautiful scenery.  I had read the info on the race website and a question was asked about the terrain.  The question was “I’ve never ran the Paris-Versailles, is the race difficult?”  The reply, “The race, in spite of the reputation of the “Côte des gardes”, is still easier than a half marathon. Be careful on the last climb to Viroflay (before the feeding station of km 13) who is redoubtable, as well as the slight incline of the Avenue de Paris in Versailles, which can seem endless.”  (clue #2)  That’s it.  Keep that response in mind for later, k?

I get up, head to Starbucks for yogurt and then take the train to the Eiffel Tower where the race is to start.  Um, why were there several funky folks on the train?  Dude, you haven’t even ran the race yet?  You want to be smelling like booty funk when you wake up?  Hose yourself off and get some deodorant.  The thought going thru my mind was, “what the hell is it going to smell like after the race?” 

So, we arrive at the Eiffel Tower and it is packed.  The race had sold out about a month earlier.
    

View of people walking over the Seine towards the starting line.

I met up with a couple of French colleagues in the starting area (which is packed).  Then, as we are lining up, my colleague says, “Hey, be careful out there because people have died running this race.”  Wait, WHAT?  People have died?  Why wasn’t that in the literature???  He tells me that people always overdo it because they aren’t ready for the huge hill between kilometers 6 and 8.  They don’t pace themselves appropriately.  Then, he says that he saw 2 people die a couple of years ago.  WHAT THE HELL?  WHY AM I JUST NOW HEARING ABOUT THIS MESS?  I AM NOT READY TO DIE.  I HAVEN’T SAID GOOD-BYE!  So, I did the best I could…sent a message on Facebook telling everybody that it’s been a good life & requested they keep me lifted in up prayer.  Ha!

The race has a rolling start but unlike half & full marathons, you aren’t grouped by pace.  They just let a certain amount of people start running every 2 minutes.  Finally, our group is released to start the race.  A couple of things I notice from the start.  First, there is no concept of personal space.  People just run all up on you so you are constantly covered in other people’s sweat.  It’s gross.  And you cannot avoid it.  Second, Port-O-Potties are a suggestion, not a requirement.  While they have some at the hydration stations, most people just stopped running and urinated on the side of the road.  Men AND WOMEN.  I don’t need to see Jean-Claude whip out his junk and I certainly don’t need to see Chanel pull her pants down and squat.  Really?  On the side of the road???  I can’t take it.

Once I’m over that, I’m able to continue focusing on my run.  Then, I see some guys running in chicken costumes.  In the heat…for 10 miles.  I’m sure that seemed like a neat concept in theory.  By the 3km marker, the chicken head had come off and was tossed to the side…by the 6km marker, the entire suit was tossed.

  

I’m just running along and then I come to the 6km marker and see what I’m gonna call the “Hill to Jesus”.  It went straight up.  Seriously?  What the hell?  I just started looking around for a train or bus stop because I just knew that I the hill would kill me and I would have to ask Jesus to help me out.  As I start my Jesus quest, I’m thinking that I have 20 Euro and could either find a taxi or bribe a kid to let me hop on his scooter.  The 2 km Jesus run seemed like it was 26 miles.  I honestly didn’t think I would make it.  I cursed myself out the entire time I was running (while I listened to Marvin Sapp’s “Never Would of Made it” to give me some encouragement.  Ha!).  I finally made it, gave thanks to Jesus and prayed that it was all downhill after that.  It wasn’t.  However, 11-13km was pretty good.  While I survived the hill, not everybody did.  I saw 3 people being rushed to the hospital via ambulance.  It’s weird passing ambulances that are stationed at every kilometer.  I also ran past several people at the medics tent getting oxygen and other medical care.  You know I was like, “uh…maybe I should just take a quick break and have them check my pressure?”  But, I kept it going.

Then there was another hill.  WTF?!?!?!?  I saw the medic scooter and thought, “I’m saved!”but it flew right on past to help out someone else.  They were probably faking.  I finally come to the last hydration station that has sugar cubes (that’s new for me), oranges, water and Powerade…and they are playing Michael Jackson’s “Thriller”…aw yeah!  That gets me hyped and I get a little burst of energy…

And, I finally cross the finish line 2 hours after I started the race.  One more goal achieved!!