Alex abroad

Alex Mitchel is one of my chums and former colleagues from working in England. Avid blog readers may remember my first ever football match (Oxford United played out a respectable nil-all draw against Reading or someone). Alex was my partner in crime that day.

The trip was not without controversy. Buying a sleeping compartment supplement in Paris is never gonna be easy if you don't speak French - although I could HUG Alex for doing the whole trip by rail instead of flying! And thank goodness he didn't have to change trains in Florence - he passed right through 'Firenze' without realising that one of Italy's most famous cities was right outside his window...

Funniest of all (although I blame the tittery English and their peurile minds for this, not Alex himself) was the reaction around the office when he announced his travel plans. "So.... *snigger* you and Georgi eh". Oh please. Alex's response made it all worth while "Are you mad?? Have you SEEN her husband? He's six foot twenty, and a rugby playing kiwi. I would be killed if I put a foot out of line with Georgi.' Ha ha. (He's right. Although I would kill him first, and Ants second.)

Just as well they didn't know Ants was in England - although he had known about Alex's visit before he booked his flights.

Anyway, we had a wonderful time. Alex is one of those curious people who, like me, wants to know the story behind everything he sees. In Rome, that makes for quite slow exploring, and this is possibly one of the reasons why I am still coming to grips with this place after nearly 3 months here. There's so much to see and absorb if you look beneath even the surface layer of dust and veneer.

And he has a fascination for the out of the way places as well as the big sights - many of which he has now seen and I haven't : the Vatican, the Villa Borghese, the Forum and Colusseum.

(Ants has decided he doesn't do art. Or Roman Stuff. Or churches. So that pretty much buggers up Rome for sightseeing, unless I want to go on my own. He also has no intention of learning italian. And he wonders why he never meets people here... sigh. Sometimes there is an advantage in him being away. But I digress)

Alex and I fell into the habit of meeting up after work where I tried in vain to persuade him out of the habit of eating scandalously early. 'How do they know that we're English' asked an amazed Alex, his pale face burnt crimson right to the roots of his blond hair. After pointing out this obvious difference, I asked him the time. 'It's 6.30'. Right, standard dinner time in the UK then. This place will start serving primi piatti to most people about 9pm. '9pm?? Who had dinner at 9pm??'

Erm, most of Italy, actually.

'So we look like complete tourists then?'

Yes. But I'm only willing to argue so far about dining hours with a diabetic.

And the advantage of eating early is that it leaves so much more of the evening for exploring. Aperitivi near Augustus's tomb. Gelati near Piazza Navona. Poking fun at the grim statue in the otherwise bright and cheery Campo dei Fiori (field of flowers). Half price cocktails til 10pm and a chocolate shot on the way home. Funny cartoon voices, kebabs at 3am and a long meander through the Porta Portese market and up to the Janiculum hill in search of the monument to Garibaldi - which we found, having also discovered every other monument to the War of Independence on the damn hill. We also discovered one of the best views in Rome. And that there's a bus from Viale Trastevere that could have saved us all that effort. But it wouldn't have been nearly so much fun.