Our last real Italian breakfast is today. We end up at a café off the Via Veneto, which is overpriced. We go to an underground grocery store to get some fresh bread for less than a euro. Why is bread so easy to get in France, but so hard to find everywhere else? The grocery store smells a little funky, but maybe that is just the man in front of us with too much cologne.
We are off to the Villa Borghese to rent a bike. The gardens are beautiful in the fall, but man is our bike squeaky. It starts to get cold as the rain comes down. We pass a carnival and a weird clock fountain that looks like the Never Ending Story. As we try and get by, a little boy on his bike won't move out of our way, and the parents watch as we wait and wait and wait. The good life unfortunately means nobody understands that others might actually be in a hurry.
We bike down around the pond, not sure we are supposed to be biking here. The fat ducks that enjoy the tourists' bread would sure make lovely dinner. We find a hidden spot for a picnic protected from the rain. Fizzy Raboso, bubble gum pruscuitto di parma, spicy salami, fresh cheese, and a baguette way better than that brick in Firenze.
Back in our hotel, we decide what to do. We have seen so much city life, ruins, wine country, churches, small towns, museums. We have gone up to the tops and bottoms of cities, experiences history and views, piazzas and islands, picnics, shopping and we are officially exhausted from our vacation. Is there anything to do that involves sitting, maybe watching, something to give our feet a break? Looks like we are off to the "Time Elevator".
We get hassled by a Sri Lankan flower seller turned employee for the Time Elevator, trying to upsell us a combo package. Even the somewhat legit businesses are trying to scam tourists, very Rome. The Time Elevator sells the wonders of ancient and modern Rome, skips the fascist bit. I'm not sure I believe this is "la vita bella". Tuscany and even Paris have nailed "la vita bella". Rome is just too busy.
We have one last gelato, soothing pineapple mango sorbet and chestnut that tastes like last nights dinner. We find a mozzarella bar, which is one of the few open at this time of day. It is swanky and empty inside, but it is a nice place to chill. We have run out of cash, so no more adventures.
We think about the scam artists we have experienced on the trip, the Nigerian bracelet sellers, the Sri Lankan flower sellers, each racially grouped. We wish there was a documentary. Where do they learn the trade, where do they get their supplies, are they supporting families back in their origin countries? Fascinating to think about.
We visit one last wine bar, and watch as a British couple spills their wine. This is why wine shops and bars use barrels for tables, it soaks up the wine instantly. With not many restaurants open on Sundays, we look at our options. That's Amore has a good menu, despite its kinda lame name, and I appreciate that the restaurateurs were in no way pushy.
We have a good house wine. The waiter asks me why I speak Italian if I am American, then he makes fun of me for saying "non che problema". Prego apparently means "peace be with you", but we still think that something is lost in translation. We go through our final photos, and get ready for bed. Tomorrow is the long trip home, our last adventure.