After all the walking on day one Bitti was not keen to repeat it. I plotted a tram journey that could take us directly to the door of Rome’s zoo, Bioparco. We travelled almost alone, seems like weekend mornings are pretty quiet here. The zoo is located in Borghese Gardens, which I’m told have a lot of cool stuff for kids. Unfortunately we didn’t make it that far as Bitti called time on being anywhere but in the hotel room by 11 am. I insisted we see the tiger, because I bloody love them, but we left after that. It was a nice little zoo with plenty of shade and good spots to have picnics, perhaps a little on the small side if you’re an animal!
To get home it was back to the tram stop, but we didn’t have a ticket. You can’t buy tickets on the trams here, and there aren’t machines at the stations. You need to find a ticket seller, which may or may not be located near the tram stop. In this case, not. I tested my dodgy Italian on a young man waiting at the tram stop to see if he knew where I could get a ticket. He replied with a look of panic on his face, ‘Uh, I don’t speak Italian!’ in an American accent, lol.
With grumpelstiltskin following me at a protest pace of .5 km/hr we walked to the next stop, hoping to find a ticket seller there. Nope! In the end I decided to risk it and we jumped on the next tram and rode home for free. I noticed that no one else was validating tickets either. And I later discovered that I didn’t even need a ticket for Bitti since she’s under 10.
I convinced her to stop for lunch on the way ‘home’ and we found an old cafe overlooking a large square with an ancient wall cutting through it. We sat al fresco and ate lasagna with crusty bread, I drank an irresponsibly served volume of vino blanco. An ambulance went past every second minute it seemed, wailing an impression of five-hundred cats in mourning. Tiny cars weaved in and out, scooters shot carelessly up the inside and outside of stopped traffic and everyone tooted horns continually. An old woman parked in front of us, mounting the kerb and then backing into a street sign. Normal. Bitti tut-tutted as a scooter rode past us on the footpath to park on the side of the road. ‘He should back in!’ she cried, still not on board with the Italian ways.
Once back at the hotel Bitti did not want to leave. She played games for a while, I had a nap. At about 6 pm I insisted on us going out for tea. I had watched the beautiful Roman weather being wasted away all afternoon while we hid indoors. It was pretty frustrating, but nothing could be done about it.
We went around the corner for dinner to try a different restaurant. Bitti wanted to eat downstairs in the hotel breakfast buffet room, but was devo to discover it dark and empty. This time we had pizza, a plain old Margherita to suit Bitti’s palette. When it came time for dessert the waiter took Bitti by the hand and led her inside to choose from the dessert cabinet, lifting her up so she could see everything. She chose profiteroles and was so impressed she wanted them the next night too.
The next day we expected our friends to arrive, and we were moving from the hotel to an AirBnB. More walking for Bitti, let’s see how that goes!
Pretending we aren’t in Europe on the holiday of a lifetime
Two Little Travellers 