Rome is super hot. Wandered the city today, just like I used to do.
Sat on some buses, walked through the park, tried (as yet unsuccessfully) to find a newspaper shop open so I could get a copy of Corriere della Sera.
Going home to hide in a siesta.
Yesterdays anecdote, for today:
Many a tourist in Rome can tell of the horror of realizing they’ve been pickpocketed. Yesterday, after a wonderful late afternoon’s chat-time with a good friend by the name of Daphne. I realized my wallet was missing out of my backpocket.
Chiara and I raced back to the little yet crowded park we had been hanging out in, to find my wallet under the bench, where it had lain since it worked itself free of my backpocket not 15 minutes or so earlier.
In Italian there’s an expression ‘Che culo!’ Which literally means ‘what ass!’ but actually means ‘Ryan, you are one ridiculously lucky son of a bitch!’ Everyone in the park who watched me scoop up my wallet agreed.