Flying from Brindisi to Rome was uneventful, but with what may be typical Italian efficiency, our luggage was sent up to the wrong carousel at Rome airport. We finally located everything and were taken to the lovely Hotel Giulio Cesare in downtown Rome. After settling in, we met our VBT contact Frank in the hotel garden for an orientation, then went to lunch, picked up our Roma passes, followed by a brief perambulation over the Tiber as far as the Spanish steps, and took the subway back. Barbara met a friend for dinner, so Malcolm and I went to Dal Toscano, a Tuscan restaurant a few blocks away. Came back to the hotel and unwound before lights out.
We had arranged to meet Frank for a morning tour of downtown Rome the next day, and met him, again at the Spanish steps. Walking generally south we saw, inter alia, the Trevi fountain, the Pantheon, the street where Julius Caesar was assassinated, and Piazza Navona. One goal I had was to see the sites of the three acts of Tosca, and that morning we stopped in the church of Sant' Andrea della Valle (Act I) and walked by the Farnese palace (Act II), which is now the French embassy and not suitable for unannounced touring. Castel Sant Angelo (Act III) would have to wait for the morrow. Taking a bus back we had lunch, then took the subway to the Vatican for a tour of the museums. It was requested that visitors were to dress modestly (no shorts, short skirts, or bared shoulders) and we complied. Alas, this was honored by others more in the breach than the observance. The tour ended in the sistine Chapel where we were requested to be quiet. Again, the philistines reigned, especially a pudgy, caviling, loud Frenchman who had been a pain in the a__ from the beginning of the tour. I guess the consolation in all this is that Americans are not the only ugly ones in the world. Somewhat paradoxically it seemed most of the works of art in the Vatican museum were pagan, not Christian, but thankfully such magnificence is being preserved regardless of religious affiliation. After the tour we went into St. Peter's Basilica to admire. I was running out of gas by this time, but Barbara still had some vim, so she went down to the park to the Garibaldi monument and Malcolm and I went back to the hotel. That night I had dinner at a local unpretentious but tasty trattoria.
On our last full day the three of us joined up with Manny whose VBT group had just checked into the hotel after a Tuscany tour. Once more we met up with Frank, this time for a tour of the Colosseum and the Roman forum. Saw many interesting ruins, but it was tiring. After lunch at a museum, I was pretty much touristed out, and though I'd seen Castel Sant Angelo from the Palatine hill, it would have taken too much energy to get there, so I walked back to the Colosseum subway stop, got off at Termini in the hope that it would have some old ornate architecture as many old train stations do—no luck, completely modern—made a stop for one final gander of the Spanish steps, and relaxed for a while at the hotel. Had dinner in the bar/cafe at the hotel, and went to a vocal recital at Chiesa di San Paolo entro le Mura near Piazza de la Repubblica and Teatro dell'Opera. It was pleasant, but a little corny with mostly operatic chestnuts, but a relaxing way to end a Rome visit. Hopped the subway back and stopped in a local gelateria for a final indulgence, and then back to the hotel.
The next morning Malcolm and I were in the same cab—we did at least drive past Castel Sant Angelo on the ride—to Fiumicino airport. There was some confusion with signage, but we finally found our check-in line. We got on our respective planes, he to New York, me to Boston, and left with wonderful memories.