Dave's Travel Journals

Intoxicating Rome

Location: Date

By Dave Fox

The security check at Seatac Airport Friday gave me a taste of Roman chaos before I even left Seattle. A thousand or so people were waiting in two separate lines for 45 minutes to check in to their flights.

Two months have passed since the September 11 terrorist attacks, and you'd think airport authorities would have worked out a logical system by now with Disney World style barricades to herd people in the right direction. But the lines just snaked wherever people felt like snaking. It would not be hard to wait in the wrong line for 45 minutes.

The second I cleared security, it dawned on me I had just smuggled a clandestine nail clipper through. I was a fugitive. I don't get why they are confiscating nail clippers right now, however, since I was still given a metal fork with my breakfast. If I wanted to hijack a plane and had to choose between a nail clipper and a fork, I think the fork would be more effective.

I landed yesterday morning in a drizzly Rome, caught the airport train downtown, and ran a gauntlet of umbrella sellers as I made my way to my hotel. Jetlagged, I decided I needed a half-hour nap. Three and a half hours later, I woke up and decided to go find Don, the tour guide.

I'm in Rome for the week on a Rick Steves city tour. I'm not working -- just trying to absorb this city for tours I might lead in the future -- and eating pasta, and harrassing my friend Don.

On a walk yesterday afternoon, I stumbled onto what looked at first like an anti-American rally with, among other things, lots of hammer-and-sickle flags. The ambulance-chasing former journalist in me couldn't resist. I walked along the fringes for a while going deeper into the route as things felt safe.

A student happily explained to me why he was there. The protest wasn't anti-American per se, but rather anti-war and anti-globalization. People were calm. I felt safe lingering on the sidelines with other onlookers.

Later Don told me he had warned his tour group to stay away. And American exchange students in Rome had been told not to go outside at all. Someone had been killed at a similar protest in Genoa earlier this year.

I do realize that wandering into such events, especially when I barely understand the language and am severely jetlagged, is stupid. And it's even stupider to write about these things because I will now have to endure the wrath of people who care about me, scolding me for my actions. There is no need to write and tell me to be more careful. Had I perceived any danger, I would have gone elsewhere. In any event, the adrenaline rush snapped me out of my stupor and I met Don for dinner.

One thing I love about Rome is how safe it feels in this chaotic urban sprawl. There is lots of petty theft -- pickpocketing and purse snatchings. But in terms of violent crime, Rome is far safer than Seattle. Wide awake at 3 a.m., I wandered down the Via Nazionale, still trying to absorb the reality of being here after my overnight flight.

This afternoon, with time to kill before the tour began, I walked to the Colosseum and spied on three Gypsy girls pickpocketing tourists. Gypsies used to scare me, but if you know their games and you keep an eye on them, they are harmless.

Eventually, they noticed me watching them. The oldest in the group, a teenager, shook her fist at me. I decided I had had enough entertainment and left them to their business.

This is my first time in Italy in three years. I didn't realize how much I have missed this country until I was walking around last night. Italians know how to be really alive. Rome's chaos stresses out a lot of Americans. I used to hate it. But now this city feels intoxicating. It's the magic of Rome. (And some good Italian wine.)