It was time to hit the road again and make the relatively short drive to Rome. We originally accepted our house sit in the Abruzzo Mountains that we had just completed as it was on our way to Malta, where we had to go back to in order to complete Linda’s citizenship. In the meantime,we accepted a house sit in the south of Spain. Although we had enough time to complete our trip to Malta and drive back through Italy and France to Almunecar in Spain, it would have been a marathon and a bit too much- as regrettably we both had to accept we were not as young as we used to be. So we came up with the idea of finding a location along the way to Spain where we could economically park the car for two weeks and fly to Malta and back. After much research we found the city of Girona, just north of Barcelona, offered cheap airfares and reasonably priced long term parking.
Further research revealed that it would also be cheaper to put the car on the ferry from Rome to Barcelona compared to the combined highway toll and fuel costs of driving the whole distance! Only problem was, with Linda’s stomach’s aversion to floating craft, she was understandably not thrilled at the concept of a twenty hour ferry ride.But as per our usual, for every problem we found a solution: Ryanair offered cheap airfares from Rome to Barcelona and we found a hotel close to the Barcelona airport where she could spend the night and day waiting for me to arrive on the Ferry. Even with the added expense of a flight and accommodation, it was still cheaper than paying the exorbitant Autostrade costs!
The new arrangements allowed us a three day visit to Rome. Once again, a place we have had both been to previously but not spent enough time to really absorb everything the iconic city had to offer. It goes without saying, Linda had organised a great little apartment only meters away from the Vatican walls for us to base ourselves.
On our arrival at the apartment, not too dissimilar to our Venice experience, we were met by a very friendly and informative host who gave us the lowdown on where to, and not to, eat. She also advised us to not leave any luggage in our car which was parked on the street. The warning concerned us a little but we were grateful for it as during my morning walk the next day and subsequent inspection of the car, revealed the lock on the driver’s side had been wrenched out with a screwdriver! “Bugger, that’s going to put a dampener on our visit” I thought, expecting the interior to be trashed and having to waste time in finding a repairer. But to my surprise, it was not roughed up at all! The glove compartment and console were not left open, there was even a bottle of my wine left on the back seat! (Says a lot for my choice of wine!
The only thing we noticed missing, were the empty jewellery boxes and carry bag from Linda’s San Marino spree. Poor bastards must have thought they hit the jackpot only to be disappointed to find empty boxes. Luckily, the car was still lockable with the remote so the urgency of finding a dealership immediately was not necessary. I just needed to obtain a police report as requested by the leasing company. That meant another visit to the local Carabinieri, “Oh fun and joy”, I thought. Fortunately our friendly host volunteered to come along with me and act as an interpreter which took a lot of drama out of the process and allowed us to get back to being tourists. It was raining heavily so it was fortunate Linda had booked and paid for tickets to the Sistine Chapel on the internet to avoid lining up for hours. I’m not a fan of pre-paying for things at the best of times so when they told us at the ticket office that there was no record of our booking and suggested we buy additional tickets my mood changed very quickly. A phone call to the agency in Paris confirmed that the problem was a computer failure and that we would receive a credit. Linda was still determined to go in so she bought an additional ticket. I had become very skeptical and grumpy so I refused to go muttering something like ‘no wonder the Catholic Church is so bloody rich.’ Anyway, I’d been before, albeit at the age of ten! I opted to walk home the long way circumnavigating the Vatican walls and spent the rest of the afternoon making phone calls organising the repairs to the car. Linda enjoyed her afternoon and the French agency did refund us several days later.
Our recommended restaurants were spot on again and thoroughly enjoyed. The following morning was nice and sunny and we got a lot of walking in. Spanish steps, Plaza Venezia, Colosseum and even though the Trevi Fountain had a temporary fence around it, there was still hordes of tourists flicking coins into it and taking ‘selfies’. We had walked so much we had to take the bus home. It was my fourth visit to the city and even though we had our car broken into and I thought the Catholic Church had ripped us off, I’d go back again.
Plaza Venezia 
Those steps!
Trevi Fountain 
Not your average clothes shop!
On our final day, with the sun still shining, we drove to Fiumicino Beach, close to the airport. Being the tail end of the summer season it was not crowded and we easily managed a window table at a waterfront restaurant to enjoy a long lazy lunch. Linda was on a five pm flight so there was no rush at all. Driving up to the departure terminal and saying goodbye seemed a little strange, maybe because we had shared the same space twenty four-seven for several months! A commanding effort really, that we hadn’t killed each other!! And after all, it was only going to be little more than twenty four hours before we’d be reunited.
I had to drive about an hour north to Civitavecchia where I would roll onto a ferry for the twenty one hour journey to Barcelona. I use the word ‘ferry’ loosely as I thought it was more like a cruise ship! It was a long wait till eleven PM when we boarded. I was lined up with hundreds of cars and trucks with license plates from countries all over the European Union. It was a little boring. Once I had grabbed a snack at the kiosk there was not much else to do – until I remembered the bottle of wine that our Roman burglar thoughtfully left on the backseat was still there! Happy Days.
My cabin was shared by a Scotsman, a young Korean guy and a Spanish truck driver who insisted he was Catalanian. The Korean spoke English while the Spaniard spoke no English at all which was perfectly Ok but he spoke a lot, and he excitedly translated everything he said and showed us on his phone! It was going to be a long night. I escaped to the lounge bar to have a beer and when I returned to the cabin he was asleep, but snoring like a trooper!
The next day was spent soaking up the sun on the pool deck working away on the iPad writing my blog.
Life is good.