A Roma Termini

The alarm rang way too early this morning, but we were up and out of the B&B in plenty of time to catch our train to Rome. Even here, the two of us are early. The streets of Florence were quiet, only the remnants from the street cleaners remained. The city is extremely neat - and it's clear they take pride in the lack of trash (well, the kind on the ground at least).

At the train station, my mom was glued to my side and I thought if I wanted to lose her, this would be the perfect location to do it.

"Oh, no you, don't," she said when I told her of my plan.

Standing at the cafe bar, I ordered a cappucino as the train station became more alive with the arrival of every new train.

"I'm going to get run over by these people," Rosemarie exclaimed looking for our train, which had not arrived yet.

Right on schedule, the Eurostar pulled into Track 10 and we made our way down the long platform to our first class compartment. The seats are large and comfortable and all around us, Italian businessmen are talking and gesturing. I would love to know what caused such laughter at one point, and it seemed as if one was making fun of our seatmate's impeccable hair.

I am riding backwards, a seat that I despise as I like to see where I'm going, not where I've been. My mother is doing her word puzzles and occassionally looking out at the passing scenery. It's lush, green and dotted with typically colored Italian houses -light brown with rustic red roofs. On the hillside are places that seem to be villas, and of course, the required steeple from a church dots the landscape.

We'll meet Cinzia at Roma Termini and begin our very busy tour of the capital city. And like a good pretend Catholic, I packed a pair of pants so I can enter St. Peter's.