After a long flight via a stopover in Istanbul, I arrived in Rome around 10:00 am Tuesday morning. When I fly, I usually arrange for a assistance, meaning someone rolls me through the airport in a wheelchair. Luckily, my Italian porter wheeled me all the way to the train station just outside the airport so that I could catch a train for the 40-minute ride to the center of the city. Upon exiting the main city terminal, I decided to forego figuring out public transportation and splurge on a taxi…and a splurge it was, as my conniving taxi driver drove me around in circles for twenty minutes before finally dropping me off at my destination near Trevi Fountain (an honest 5-minute drive). I grudgingly paid him the Euro 20 fare and began wandering around with my backpack, looking for the address.
After battling the hordes of tourists around the Fountain and moderating a battle between my crutches and the uneven cobblestones (perhaps shedding a few quiet tears of self-pity), I managed to find the tiny side street and my real-estate agent in-waiting. After showing me around my miniature studio apartment, my home for the next few days, (with a little bit of research, I found that renting an apartment was much cheaper and more comfortable than one of the city’s grotty hotels), I went out for a quick pizza lunch before coming back and crashing for a serious siesta.
As the sun was beginning to set, I woke up, took a hot shower, and ventured back out into the streets around the Trevi area.