Happy birthday to me!

We did indeed land in Rome on my birthday. Today, eleven years after the event, I can still see the perpetually angry man, boarding the plane with us (I pulled his wife's hair on the flight, but it was accidental), and I remember how miffed Ronda was when I discovered that I had forgotten our Greece travel guide and had to buy another one in the airport. Other than those two little inconveniences, the safari began as we had planned.

My birthday celebration consisted of getting settled in our hostel and then eating dinner at a quiet restaurant. We toasted each other with a local red wine and ended the meal with tiramisu. We wandered the streets. Being in a city that I had only read about made my heart beat fast and brought tears to my eyes. Wait -- it was my tired feet that made me cry!

Tired feet made me change a lot of plans. This is how it happened: Ronda wanted to buy me a haircut for my birthday. After we found our hostel and ate dinner, I said I would go to the train station (about a block from our hostel) to buy a magazine. This was fine with Ronda, as she likes time to herself. There were no hairstyle magazines in the train station, so I walked a little farther. When I was ready to go back, I, not having left bread crumbs, couldn't find my way! This led to about 4 hours of walking and asking directions and more walking. Under other circumstances, it would have been a lot of fun. That quest for the perfect haircut, however, started three weeks of pain every time I walked. I stayed in the room when Ronda went out with friends (she didn't mind), we took shorter walking excursions than we'd planned, and I complained a lot.

This was not the birthday that I'd planned, but there we were, surrounded by old world architecture and art. It was amazing. After 11 years, it is STILL amazing.

Return to this blog for information about Siena, specifically how to take a shower at a hotel that charges for hot water.

Traveling - easy; planning - difficult

Planning a trip to Rashid proved to be quite difficult. We could fly to Cairo and go by land transportation (bus or hired car) north to the Mediterranean. Alternatively, we could fly to Athens, island hop east, and then catch a ferry across the sea. The ferry ride alone would take 24 hours. Another option was to fly to Rome, take land transportation south, and then catch the 24-hour ferry. It looked bleak. It seemed that a trip to this place was for people who had several weeks and no schedule -- not my daughter and me at that time.

As much as we hated to let the dream go, we decided to visit Italy and Greece instead.

Twenty years earlier, we had dipped into Torino, Italy. At the train station, while Ronda (age 10) sat on my suitcase to protect it, I stood in line to buy train tickets out the next day. In that brief period of time, a young man propositioned me, and a lady from America recognized my shirt and started a conversation with me. I said "no, thank you" to the young man and allowed the lady, Donna, who had dual citizenship in America and Italy, to help me through the ticket buying process. Stepping down from the train with a young child and luggage in a strange city was a frightening ordeal, knowing that 24 hours was not enough time to learn the language. Within 10 minutes, however, I was becoming acquainted with a very nice and helpful person. Whew!

Donna bought our tickets for us, pointed out a restaurant for our dinner, walked with us to an excellent hotel, and promised to send a cab for us the next day. Her Italian mother was ill, and she was spending a month in Torino with her aunt. We were to have lunch with her aunt's family. Everything went swimmingly -- the dinner was wonderful (I especially loved the dessert cart), the bed was comfortable, the cab came on schedule, and we spent a few delightful hours with her family. This included a bold red wine that they made in their basement, lunch, and a walking tour of the area. I remember drinking my first ever cappuccino and the delightful good-bye kisses from Donna's cute male cousins.

So we had enough information about Italy to return. And who needs information about Greece to want to visit it? We planned to land in Rome on my birthday.

Remember when I mentioned Italy?

Early in 1998, my daughter said she wanted to take me to Egypt for my 50th birthday in September. In Egypt, near the mouth of the Nile, is Rashid, the place where the Rosetta Stone was discovered. She had been there a few years earlier, taking the long, difficult route home after having lived in Tanzania. Her only mission was to see Rosetta (Rashid) because my name is Rosetta. I'm still touched by her determination to take me to that village. Most of you who know the importance of the Rosetta Stone know that the British named the point of discovery "Rosetta" ("Rose of the Nile"). It has since reverted back to Rashid, the original Egyptian name. My daughter only saw a village there, not even a commemorative plaque, and the Rosetta Stone now resides in the British Museum in London. She said she considered buying me a carrot, the closest thing she could find to a souvenir. She very much wanted to take me to the birthplace of my name. Off we planned!

I have since learned a little more about Rashid. It has a population of about 163,000 (a pretty big village!) and is a tourist attraction, best known for its distinct Ottoman era houses. I've also read about a museum and a public bath.

Stay tuned. I promise that I will eventually get to Italy.