Sunday, May 11, 2025

In the morning, we immediately break off the door handle of our Airbnb while locking up. Afterwards, we take the bus towards the Colosseum. While Lara is on the phone with her mother (it's Mother's Day), Kathi navigates – unfortunately, first in the wrong direction.

We get off in the middle of nowhere, and the next bus won't arrive for another 55 minutes. The mood shifts. Salvation comes in the form of breadsticks that calm our nerves.

Upon arriving at the train station, we successfully use our tickets for the first time and take the metro to the Colosseum.

Breakfast with a view: baguette with salami and scrambled eggs (a bit dry and burned), along with cappuccino and a pudding pastry. A friendly Italian points out that we should keep a close eye on our camera, which he referred to as the “machine.” From then on, the camera was only called “the machine.”

We stroll through small alleys to the Colosseum, take photos (unfortunately, the sky is gray), and visit the interior. After a thorough check (feeling like we showed our IDs and tickets three times), we are allowed in. Lara unnecessarily empties her water bottle because she thought water wasn’t allowed – the security guard just shakes his head and asks if we have a problem.

Afterwards, we explore the Forum Romanum – it's hot, we're tired, and we desperately need to use the restroom.

A well-deserved break comes in a café with tomato-mozzarella bread and iced coffee in a champagne glass. The coffee was so delicious that Lara couldn’t drink it, allowing Kathi to enjoy 2 of these delightful beverages. Unfortunately, that was not enough at all.

We continue on foot to the Caracalla Baths, as always. We really like the atmosphere there; with a fitting Spotify playlist, we relax and can vividly imagine the former bathing house.

At 6 PM, our day is far from over: we walk to the Giardino degli Aranci and enjoy the sunset there with live music.

A few meters away, we wait 45 minutes to look through the famous keyhole – the view is worth it!

After more than 22,000 steps, we take a scooter back to Trastevere. There are long lines in front of Tonarello.

Kathi directly asks if there is a waiting line – the waiter replies, “First, hello.” In the third Tonarello, we finally find a table.

The food – carbonara, focaccia, and cola – is unfortunately too salty. After 30 minutes, we've eaten and paid for everything.

Our Uber driver Stefano drives like a madman, going through red lights three times, and brings us back in a flash.

Once home, we shower and collapse into bed. Kathi talks in her sleep: “Ahh, hm, hm, hm!”