Flight's booked, hotel's booked, time off from work is booked [Jesus, that could be a proper disaster!] and movies shot in Rome have been shunted to the top of the screenclick.com wishlist. [Go on, guess what's Numero Uno. I dare ya.] Now we just need to find us a Vespa so that we can dice with death while booting around the Colosseum with no helmets on...
The trip is to celebrate Himself & myself's 5th Annimaversary. Previously, we have travelled to such exotic and far-flung destinations as Portlaoise, Galway, Cork and Killarney to mark our Annimaversaries. So although I am getting majorly exasperated with the "Will you be asking any important, life-altering questions while you're there?"/"Jesus, you're not getting married are you?" line of interrogation, I suppose you can maybe perhaps sort of see where the crazies are coming from. Sure, we're going for a city break "out furrin" and, better yet, to a city whose very name puts you in mind of romance. [Dean Martin has a lot to answer for.] City of romance where loads of people get engaged = proposal, right? Eh, no. Sure we escaped unscathed from New York and Paris, didn't we?
In truth, we are just a bit fed up of the unashamedly, unrelentingly crap weather that the last week of October brings with it in Ireland; I don't think we've had an Annimaversary break yet where we weren't absolutely flooded out of it. Cork 2004 was a particularly memorable rainfest: we went down for the BH weekend when the Guinness Jazz Festival was on, thinking that there'd be loads of people around and plenty of gigs etc to check out... And I'm sure there would have been, too, if it hadn't been for the pesky rain that caused the River Lee to burst it's banks and put half the city under water. We crossed from one side of the city to the other without incident on the Saturday afternoon, but by the time we had finished our dinner and were wondering about teas and coffees, I think we were the only people left in the restaurant and the water in the street outside was rising steadily. Not known for choosing waterproof footwear at the best of times and unwilling to subject my feet and legs for a prolonged soaking, I had a bit of a brainwave and proceeded to procure some bin liners from the waiter which we fashioned into casually elegant thigh-high waders before stepping out the door of the restaurant onto what had previously been the footpath. In the space of a few hours, it had transmogrified into a 6-inch deep stream. Patrick Street was under feet of water; there was actually an inflatable dingy travelling up and down this particular newly-formed branch of the Lee. We made it back to our hotel on the far side of the river before the bridges were declared impassible. As it was, we had to hug the side of the bridge as we crossed to avoid being knocked onto our asses by the river torrents rushing over it.
So this year, it's arrivaderci to shite Irish autumnal weather and ciao bella to four balmy October days in Roma. Apparently, today in the Eternal City it's predominantly sunny with highs of 23 or 24°C and not a single pair of home-made waders in sight.
Ah, fantastico!
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