I do not like Rome.  This is not entirely Rome’s fault.   I acknowledge that.  But I do not like it.

I was leaving Napoli today.  I last left off leaving Castel Sant’Elmo.  I had to go back to my hotel and pick up my luggage.  Dying, hot, sweaty, death.

I walked back over to Centrale to buy a train ticket to Rome.  The next train was leaving in ten minutes, I wanted a tiny bit more time to do things like buy an ice cold drink (DYING, HOT, SWEATY, DEATH) and smoke a cigarette.  I look at the later times and see prices €40 and up.  What the hell, I thought it was going to be like €10.  Then I notice the too-soon train is only €11.20.  Perfect, I will take it.  Who needs a cigarette and ice cold drink when you will be in Rome in about an hour for only €11.20?

Ugh.  Did you know they have slow trains between Naples and Rome?  I didn’t.  I am now on a three hour train.  I boarded late so there are no seats left.  I am sitting outside between the two cars, burning hot.  There is a guy selling cold water, he does not have change for a €20 bill.  I don’t have anything smaller since I just put all my change and smaller bills into the ticket machine.

I did see some cool scenery though:

I finally get to Rome.  I actually find my hotel with no problem at all.  Even with Google Maps lying about it being down a street it is not down.   It is one of those “In a building, not the whole building” kind of places.  I ring the bell, I am buzzed in.  I see this:

Um, where am I going?  After a few seconds, I hear someone yelling “HELLO” at me.  Hi.  And you are where?  A young man comes down, says hello (again) and carries my bag up to the second floor.  No elevator.  He checks me in.  Asks for my credit card.  Oh no, nuh uh.  This was paid in full when I reserved it.   He says no.  I say yes.  Special rate, 100% charged at time of reservations, no refunds.  He tells me I was not charged.  I do not feel like arguing right now because I am tired.  So I hand over my credit card with every intention of looking up my credit card statement as soon as I get into my room.

My room.  I hate my room. It is really tiny.  I think I knew that before I got here and was okay with it.  I just think that coming from a nice room where the terrace alone was literally five times the size of this room, makes it seem worse.

Also my window.  It actually opens onto the hallway and on the other side of the hallway is a window that opens to outside.  So in other words, anyone passing by my room in the hallway, can stick their arms right inside my room.

First thing I try to do, go online to check my credit card statement.  What the fuck.  Why won’t the internet work.  I go back out to get the guy and he is gone.  This place does not have full time reception or any reception really.  Once I was checked in (I was the last one of the day), he leaves and there is no one here at all if you have any questions.  Example of a question you cannot ask since there is no one here:  “Excuse me, can you please help me with the internet?”

God dammit.  I need to see my credit card statement.  Fine, I will call them.  From fucking Italy.  I call card #1 (I don’t know what card I used).  I get someone on the phone.  He asks for my birthday as a security question.  It turns out we have the same birthday.  That’s just great.  What?  What am I doing for my birthday?  I lie and say I don’t know because I certainly have no intention of explaining to this person that I am celebrating my birthday at a hardcore fest.  He tells me he wants to travel for our birthday.  Oh god help me if this turns into some solicitation, I am in Italy, this is an international call.  Can I please just tell me if I was charged for this hotel on March 14, like I am positive I was.  He starts listing charges from that date.  One was JetBlue.  I start to get a bit confused  by that because what the hell is the JetBlue charge?  Where the hell am I flying them to?  I have too many vacations I cannot keep anything straight anymore.  I actually ask “Does it say where I am flying to?”  No.  It doesn’t.  No it’s not a problem.  I am sure I made that charge.  No, I don’t want you to do anything.  Oh my god.  You know what, I am going to hang up the phone and go outside and find a McDonalds and go online.  Thank you.  Yes, you enjoy our birthday too.  Okay bye bye.  I SAID “BYE” TWICE NOW WHY ARE YOU STILL TALKING.

So I will go outside for the internet . There are two McDonalds at the train station I was just at.  Plus I want to find the Metro anyway so I don’t get lost tomorrow morning.

Find the Metro no problem.  One ticket it supposed to be good for up to 75 minutes.  I take the Metro one stop to the train station thinking I can also take it back and save myself the fifteen minute walk each way.  I am tired.  I am also still really thirsty, still.  I went to fill up my water bottle before I left but instead I dropped it and it rolled under the bed.  I left it there thinking I would just get some delicious peach iced tea at McDonalds while I use the internet.

I get to Termini.  I go to McDonalds.  I order fries and peach iced tea.  I go upstairs to sit.  My iced tea doesn’t make it. I drop it and it completely empties onto the floor.  I start to cry.  Okay that last part was only internally but it did happen.

I sit down, take out my laptop type thingy and guess what.  McDonalds in Termini Station doesn’t have wifi.  Are you freaking kidding me?  I SAID ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME.  I can’t even.

I finish my fries, I am eleventy billion times thirstier than ever before in my life.  I find that the deli type place next to McDonalds has wifi but I have already eaten and I am not going to eat twice.  So I head back to the Metro to go back to my hotel.  Son of a BITCH I have been lied to.  You cannot use the freaking Metro ticket unlimited times in 75 minutes.  I do not want to walk.  I do not want to buy a new ticket.  I am so thirsty.  I begin to completely zone out, in front of the turnstile.  I begin to wonder about where the gangs of teen aged robbers who hang out at Termini that I always read about on the internet are.  Then I begin to wonder what is wrong with me that while I am having such a bad streak of luck I wish to seek out gangs of teen aged robbers .

I buy another metro ticket.  And a peach iced tea.  It was delicious.

I get back to my hotel without any incident. I do laundry in the sink.  I notice a pack of ants in the bathroom.  I type out this rant.  I play with some of my pictures.  I start typing like a caveman. I go to bed.  Good night.