a rainy day in Rome

This morning started off with the adventure of trying to find the church, which was far enough to be literally off the map. But with my good memory and map skills, and Robyn's people skills, we got on a bus in the general direction, sure that we could find it. We eventually did, but not without a lot of help. When we were very near the church, we asked a short Asian woman if she knew where Piazza Cornaro was. "Why?" she demanded. That was a new response. We said we needed to find an address there and again, "Why?" But then she continued, "You Mormon?" "Yes!" we replied, excited that obviously knew the place we wanted. "My husband active Mormon," she explained, as she smoked her cigarette and lead us to the church.
Then it was off for Robyn to see the outside of St. Peter's Basilica while I wrote post cards in the shade. Then more banana gelato (YUM!) and then more of lazy tourist life, just walking around, deciding what we want to do and when. Then it started to rain. We had left the hostel in such a hurry (we barely caught our shuttle into the city), and it had been so hot and sunny, that I didn't bring my rain jacket. I was OK with being rained on, but Robyn bought an umbrella and graciously did her best to share it with me. In then end, I decided my rather large bag was wet enough, and let it have a turn under the umbrella to protect my stuff, so I ended up pretty wet. I can't even count how many people tried to sell me an umbrella. But I'm far too stubborn. Robyn, bless her heart, offered to buy one for me, thinking it was only about the money. It was more than that. I am a tough girl, and when I planned this trip, I planned on enduring discomforts, on living like a vagabond, without many of the comforts of home that I am used to. If that included rain, then I was going to get soaked and love it, dang it!
But we had a great time, just wandering around, amazed by the history of the place and the splendor of it all. I wish it weren't so crowded here. There are too many tourists, but for a good reason, there are plenty of wonderful things to see.
We didn't get to see La boca de la verita, the stone sun where you put your hand in its mouth, and if you say something false, it is supposed to crush your hand. But I couldn't think of anything clever to say, and I like my hand whole. My feet have and are continuing to endure enough, I think I'll leave my hands alone.
One of the things I like most about this place (besides the obvious) is the smell. It always smells good here, like delicious food, or that wonderful white flower whose name I really need to learn, or like expensive perfume. That is such a pleasant change from other places I've been. Also, I like how men address me as "Bella". Does it matter that I know that they call every girl Bella? No. I'm still flattered.
Tomorrow is going to be nuts. We have to take a cab at 5:00 am to get to the train station to do a whirlwind tour of one city, then get on another train to Florence. It's going to be stressful and EXHAUSTING. But do a google image search of Cinque Terre and you'll be jealous, no matter the trouble it causes us.