Stefano and Andrea

May 17, 2007

Our flight from Stockholm to Rome was leaving at 6:45 a.m. and we had to catch a 4:00 bus to get there on time. The evening before, we wandered the deserted streets, had a beer at what may have been the only pub open at 11:00 in Stockholm, and got into our hostel in time to catch 2 hours of sleep. We decided to get up at 3:15, but in my numerically incapable head, I somehow translated that as 3:45. So, alarm goes off at 3:45. We have 15 minutes to haul ourselves and our ridiculous luggage to the station located a good mile away. We jump out of bed in a half sleep, feeling like we’d slept for 10 minutes, and fumble our way to the station as fast as our fuzzy heads can carry us.

When we get to the station it is locked and dark and quiet. We wander around confused and ask a guy on a bench when the bus leaves for the airport. He confirms that it is in fact coming at four, and then we notice the clock behind his head says 2:00. I apparently had not changed my cell phone clock since Russia and we were two full hours early. So we hunkered down in a corner away from the suspicious guys sitting on a bench at 2:00 in the morning. One of them was handsome in a rugged european sort of way, but the other one looked like a drunk, strung out, homeless guy. After about a half an hour the normal looking guy came over and asked us where we were from. Turns out he is from Rome, where we are heading, so we spent the next couple hours chatting with him in broken english and getting tips on what to do and where to go. He was incredibly helpful and offered to show us around the city after work some night. Work: He works for an international project helping immigrants from Arabic countries to get blood transfusions and other health care. Seriously? Eventually the other guy wandered over, who surprisingly enough turned out to be his travel companion. He was terrifying looking and smoked the most disgusting smelling cigarettes. He didn't speak english but he smiled a lot, which put us a little more at ease.

When we arrived in Rome, our new friends Stefano and Andrea waited for us and all our awkward luggage to get us on the right bus and show us a cheaper way to get to where we were going other than the “how do you say, for tourists trap” of a bus we would have otherwise wasted money on.

So the next day I sent him an e-mail too see if he was serious about hanging out, because why the heck not. We met a few days later; nine o’clock p.m. at the Termini train station. I realize you’re all a teeny bit suspicious right now, but I have pretty good radar and can absolutely assure you that there was nothing even slightly shady about Stefano. Plus, by then Hannah and I had acquired a third person, so it seemed like more of a group. Both he and Andrea showed up carrying scooter helmets. We thought maybe a coffee or something, but they had a plan. After an unexpected kiss on each cheek (and a slight blush), they gave us an absolutely incredible five hour walking night tour of Rome. We went to all the less obvious places that we would have otherwise entirely missed. Rome at night is breathtaking with all of its huge dimly lit architecture. Stefano read us all the Latin and told us stories about a baker buried at the entrance of Rome. Andrea tried to put his two cents in once in a while, but never quite made any sense out of his limited english vocabulary. I saw the original entrance to Rome. Anyone who entered the city came through that arch. Can you even imagine? It was incredible. We walked around for hours and hours and hours. We stood in front of the statue of St. Francis where he met with the Pope. A man with his phone stuck up his helmet took pictures for us from various creative angles without ever interrupting his conversation for a moment. He also slapped my hand when I tried to show him how to use my cameras. And then Stefano and Andrea decided they needed to get home because they worked in the morning. And thats it. Seriously. So legit.

That may have been kindest most generous thing I have ever experienced in my life, ever. I’m a little smitten. And his old job was making tourism accessible to handicaps. And he rides a scooter. Oh Stefano. When I e-mailed to thank him he said that if I was still around when he got back from Bucharest on the 23rd we should hang out again, “however” (that was by far his favorite word), Andrea would probably be around to hang out sooner. See picture below, yikes. Prob pass on that one. To Paris on the 22nd…