il cielo e triste

Or at least that was what my cabdriver last night thought as it started raining around 8 pm as I was finishing up dinner at Cul de Sac Enoteca by Piazza Navona. He also admonished me for not knowing italian after I informed him that I was of italian descent - he thought I was mexican (though, Rocio, in his defense I'm pretty sure he has never met a mexican person before).
I got to the convent about 4 hours later then I had anticipated. We had to take a strange flight route far to the north so we could avoid poor little Iceland and its volcano. I got in, successfully navigated the train here, and immediately ran out the door. The convent is in a kind of gritty neighborhood which apparently used to be the butcher neighborhood of Rome. It's about a 20 min walk up to the Colosseum and the Forum, and from there I walked up Corso to the Spanish Steps to buy my fantastic shoes. Fact: no one but tourists wears open toes shoes, so I quickly rectified my error via Nero Giardini. Strolled around a bit - coming around a corner on a small dusty land and seeing the Pantheon looming there still makes my heart drop. Had delicious caramel gelato from San Crispino, about a block north of the Pantheon, and then went over to Navona for dinner. At Cul de Sac, I had an amazing meat and cheese plate (sorry, Triumph, but this kills the butcher plate) for only 10 euro. I had the waiter choose for me because I told him I like strange food - I got: 'ndjua (!!!), pros. san daniele, a roman fennel salami, a humbold fog textured cheese made with crunchy fermented grape leaved wrapped around, and an organic roman gorgonzola. He also brought me out a stew of roman artichokes, peas and fava beans that was remarkable more delicious then it looked.
Today, I'm heading up to St. Peter in Chains and some churches up there, and then the Arc of Peace. Mission: roman pizza, tripe or more artichokes.
And of course more gelato.