Day 6 – Leaving Lecce

Karen got up before me again. By the time I was showered and dressed, she was back. Karen had made several stops to get fruit and sweets for our trip as well as her morning espresso (with a shot of Sambuka!). Even though we are on a tight schedule, we have to get breakfast at the Prestige. Renada had an amazing setup set up with fig cake made by her mother and an apricot filled croissant made by Renada herself! We are so to leave, but we have to get Rome today. I muscle El Beasto down the stairs and load it in the car and we are off to Brindisi. Did I mention how stressful it is to drive in Lecce? We drop the car at the airport, take a taxi to the train station and and get on the train for the five hour ride to Rome. Last time we took trains in Italy was 2001. They were so crowded and filled with smokers. This time we were sure to reserve a seat and are so happy that there is no longer smoking allowed on trains.

Seeing the countryside between Brindisi and Foggia, I noticed the farms get bigger the further north we go. But we see very little of the wheat Puglia is known for. Most of the huge wheat fields are further north past Foggia. These farms were full of grapes and fennel and fall greens. There are hectares of freshly plowed red soil, ready for fall planting. Along the side of the tracks is a railroad worker carrying a rake to smooth out rocks and a basket. The basket is filled with wild greens he had picked along the railroad tracks.

After Foggia, the train backtracks a few miles and heads west over the mountains towards Rome. Grape vines are planted on the hillsides facing both north and south. There is also tons of freshly plowed fields, the distinguishing feature being thousands of white specs in the dirt. Rocks, rocks, and more rocks. While the soils looks fertile it is littered with rocks, surely making plowing a challenge.

Once in Rome, we only make one wrong turn trying to find our hotel. What I didn’t mention is that we are arriving in Rome a day early. We had sent an email to the hotel asking if we could stay an extra day, but didn’t have access to a computer to see if they had responded. We figured if we couldn’t get into our hotel early we were in Rome; how hard could it be to find a hotel room in Rome? Upon arrival, we found that there was no room at the Hotel IQ. But, they booked us into their sister hotel, Artemide. Valentino takes our bags to our room and shows us the amenities as I frantically search for a couple of Euros as a tip. No luck. I’m the ugly American.

After a quick freshening up, we head back to the front desk to get Internet access and book our tickets for the Vatican. I immediately get change for my 20 Euro note and tip Valentino. Crisis averted. After booking and printing our tickets (there are several layers of bureaucracy, even online) we head to the bar for a glass of complimentary Prosecco. The bar is full of Americans and Karen and I discuss our plans for the next day. We talk to the bartender about Italian wines and futbol. He tells us his wife is Brazillian so we talk about Brazil and my favorite Brazilian futbol player, Ronaldhino, who now plays for Milan.

Then, a gentleman comes up to the bar and orders an Irish Whiskey. I ask him if he is Irish and he says no, he is Norwegian. After a couple of glasses of wine (maybe more) we are introduced to his sons, son in law, wife, nine in all staying in Rome for several days to celebrate his wife’s birthday. I won’t tell you her age, but it has a zero in it, so it is a good reason to celebrate. I ask my new friend what he does for a living and he says he owns a wireless broadband company. What are the chances? All the way to Rome and I spend an hour talking about Towerstream, wireless broadband, 5GHz and the cost of building a wireless network.

It is getting very late so we paid our bill and head off to dinner. Of course our new Norwegian friends are at the same restaurant! We wave hello and chat briefly before getting our table. We order a half litre of red (below average) and pizza margarita (way too salty) and artichoke (way, way too salty) and rosemary foccacia (perfect). The meal doesn’t agree with Karen, so when we get back we open the window for fresh air and sleep like babies.