Derping Durch die Schweiz (A Comprehensive Guide): Abenteuer Vierundzwanzig: Arrival in Rome

Getting off the train in Rome, I felt like I'd stepped onto another planet.

I grew up in a town of about 55,000 people. This town lies on the outskirts of a city of 318,000 people. For the last two years, I've lived in a village of 17,000 people (the majority of whom are located, I believe, in the cemetary).

Rome has a population of 2.7 million.
And of that, about a million are located at any given time in the train station.

The main train station of Rome is a city unto itself. Finding the exit through the throng? You need to hire a professional guide. Possibly a pair of armed guards and a sherpa, as well.

My suburban mind was blown. Rome.
A city that's been a capitol of the world for a long, long time.

Baby's first aqueduct. I wasn't in Kirksville any more...

Graffiti on my way to the hostel. Damn it, Lady Gaga!

By the time I actually got out of the train station, it was 4:00 or 5:00. I really didn't accomplish much that first night, with the exception of finding dinner, the underground station, and my hostel.

I have to take a moment to rave about my hostel.

I've stayed in some pretty snazzy hotels in my life. I've stayed at the Peabody in Memphis and the Kursaal in Bern. I've spent a week at Disney world and a week at a nice spa/resort on Sanibel Island. I have never, however, stayed in a place with service like my hostel in Rome.

When I walked through the door, the man who greeted me was exhilarated.

"Welcome! Welcome! Come in! Let me take your bag for you! You look thirsty. Would you like a drink? We have water, or juice...if you want we can get you Vodka, but usually we don't get that out until a little later...here, sit down, sit down! Did you have a nice trip? Did you find the place alright? Would you like a snack or anything?"

Within five minutes of walking through the door, I literally felt like I was home. This effect was magnified by the fact that I had spent the previous night in a creepy dank closet.

The man gave me a minute to rest. Then he returned, bearing a map.
He sat me down and spent the next fifteen minutes:

Figuring out where I wanted to go
Telling me that those places were lame and advising me as to better destinations
Telling me when was the best time to visit these destinations and how much the tickets for each would cost
Tracing the routes I could use to arrive at those locations
Colour-coding the routes with a series of highlighters signifying bus, train, subway, etc.,
Giving me written instructions as to which bus, train, subway I should take to get where (in case the map wasn't clear enough)

And generally planning my entire itinerary. Oh, and telling jokes and apologizing for his "bad" (completely flawless) English. He then walked me to my room and insisted on carrying my backpack.

One might think that man I met my first night was bored or unusually friendly, but that's not the case. The entire staff treated me this way the entire weekend. Every time I (or any other guest) walked through the door, their faces lit up like it was Christmas morning. I got similar treatment pretty much everywhere I went.

I concluded that people from Rome are just generally friendly, helpful people.

After checking out and getting settled, I decided to see what I could of the city. Or at least, to see if I could find dinner.

I wound up at a tourist restaurant near the Porta S. Giovanni and the Piazzale Appio (and the subway station)

Piazzale Appio

How could I tell it was a tourist restaurant? HUGE serving sizes (and "Stairway to heaven" playing in the background).

Gnocchi with a zucchini and truffle sauce. I'd been dying for some gnocchi ever since I got to Italy, so this was exciting. Not to mention excitingly cheap

Dessert calzone--larger than my face and filled with chocolate.

From the restaurant I went to the Piazza del Popolo, which was apparently the first place people saw when they entered ancient Rome. By this time, the sun had completely set, and the city lights made everything beautiful.