tuesday

I'm being bitten by mosquitos every night, but it doesn't itch. They are a different species! What a pleasant surprise. Suck away, girls. I'm here to help. 

Breakfast. My B&B host came into the bar. We talked our italianglish. The staff warmed to me immediately. Not rude before, mind you, but Francesco clearly likes me, so..... 

Bought some buffalo mozzarella and sat near the fascist obelisk to eat it before entering the tennis tournament. I have loads of things to say about how they could run it (the tournament, not fascism) better, like let people in earlier. But it is what it is. I am adapting quickly. Who knew I was a good international traveller? Code switching like a pro. 

Italian queueing is interesting. They don't. They mass, & then it's gladiator time! The wedge moves, and being tall and aggressive means someone else will be eaten by the lion first. (To expand upon the metaphor.) I can't get taller, but you know me. I can aggress. 

Similarly, I've fully adapted to Roman street crossing. It too is aggressive and brave, nearly a sport. Already thinking, "oh it's a tiny car. Surely wouldn't hurt much if it ran over my toes. (It would.)

modern tesserae, mosaics at Foro Italico 

city gas station, tiny little kiosks

Will post tomorrow a.m. about tennis, which everyone will ignore. 😏 It's like a diary, for the audience of myself.