I have not slept well since I've come to this hostel. It's pretty hot in the dorm room, so it takes me a good hour to fall asleep, and I wake up a couple of times in the middle of the night. It's an 8-bed dorm, and right now it's got me, three retirement-age teachers from Seattle, and a couple from I don't-know-where.
This is my second night here, and the people have actually been very quiet and respectful. When they come in late, they tiptoe around, as opposed to the drunken stumbling and giggling that I've endured before, and I'm sure is prevalent at more partying-youth hostels.
But the SNORING. I can't STAND it. Right now, it't the teacher in the bunk above me.
When it's your significant other, or your sister, you can give 'em a quick jab to roll 'em over. But I really can't do that to a complete stranger, can I?
Bah.
Yesterday was kind of a bust, as Rik's 5-year old guidebook gave me incorrect information about how to get to Lago di Brancchiano, a lake about an hour outside of Rome. I went to this metro station, and asked a bunch of people were this bus terminal was, and they told me I wasn't remotely close. I'll try again tomorrow.
But I did manage to find this AWESOME bar/sandwich shop... it was called Bar Herbera uner some arcade next to the Colonna Gallery. It was what I'd consider a panino: Crispy and pressed on the outside. The first one. Usually, when they heat up your sandwich the outside is still soft. Not as satisfing. They had a lot of sandwiches out of the ordinary... which at this point of my trip is welcome. Anchovies, zucchini flowers, and fresh mozzerella on a braided roll. Yum.
Also, now that I've figured out the busses a bit better, my feet aren't ready to walk away from me by the end of the day.
Why is it that you only find the good stuff right as you're leaving?
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