Remember Bernini’s Medusa that made its way to San Francisco at the beginning of this year? It’s back home now at the Musei, though just resting against the side wall amid the special exhibition, Lux in arcana, rather than occupying center stage as it did in SF. The aforementioned exhibition was by far my favorite attraction here. It’s a presentation of historic documents from the Vatican Secret Archives, from writings officially condemning Martin Luther to letters written from both Abraham Lincoln and Jefferson Davis to the Pope during the Civil War.

Back to the views. Here is a video taken from the museums’ cafe (I did not add the opera; there was a woman rehearsing in the event space behind me), and photos of the sunset over Rome taken from a lesser-known garden at the side of the Palazzo dei Conservatori.

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“Paris is more beautiful in the rain,” says Owen Wilson in Woody Allen’s “Midnight in Paris,” still my favorite film. I thought of this line when I checked the weather, seeing that Rome would be under gray skies for the next two days. I hoped the line about Paris would translate to Rome as well. Of course, it did.

Here are some photos of a rainy day in Rome, from Prati to the Scalinata della Trinità dei Monti (Spanish Steps), complemented with a panoramic video of the Fontana di Trevi.

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The experience differed little from any quality beer festival in America, only that most people were speaking Italian, some of the labels were harder to read, and the food included pasta all’amatriciana and supplì. Even in Italy you’ll find those fat, bearded fellows who film everything religiously. The brewmasters were all incredibly friendly, the crowd wasn’t too full, and the day was the perfect mix of sunny and cool for lounging outside.

The best beers I’ve tried from the Italia Beer Festival:

OpperBacco – 10 e lode
Inspired from dark Trappist beers, this 10% number utilizes six different kinds of malts and gives off a barleywine-like sweetness. OpperBacco had two varieties of this brew, one a rarer rendition called the Barricata – 10 e lode utilizing a process that I couldn’t understand (we had some language issues; my Italian isn’t advanced enough to get scientific processes yet). They also had a beer inspired by both the Tripel and the IPA, entitled TriplIPA. But above all, these guys were really friendly and fun.

Birranova – Abboccata
A strong ale from a brewery in Puglia, Abboccata earned four stars from Guida Slow Food Birre d’Italia 2011 and high marks at Campionato Italiano Birre Arigianali 2008 and Concorso Birra dell’Anno 2008. (That translates to “good.”) Intense flavor, a nice aroma of malts and its clean aftertaste make it unique from the other beers at the festival.

Karma – Anniversario
Unfortunately, I don’t remember the details about this beer except that it’s flavorful and good (so good that I wrote it down, as their brochure doesn’t list it).

Retorto – Krakatoa
This was the last beer I tried, an IPA with a nice kick that some of the others at the festival didn’t have. After all, it’s named after a wicked volcano. It had the great hops flavor that would make any Californian beer drinker smile.

Birradmare – La Zia Ale
This ale is a combination of efforts from several breweries in Lazio, and it wins the “most unique brew” award at the festival (at least as far as I’m concerned) for its use of carciofi e rosmarino (artichokes and rosemary). While there were hints of artichoke in the fragrance, it was the rosemary that really came through. It was fairly light, though it had a nice peppery kick in the end.

After the festival, we went to a cool lounge in Monti called Casa Clementina. The cavernous bar includes an artsy accessory shop and an NES with Super Mario Bros. in the back.

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While today may not have been as wild as my first night in Rome, it certainly was productive. I had my first of many cups of gelato and slices of pizza during this trip, and it was certainly interesting when I tried to order a new SIM card at Telecom Italia Mobile (there are still bumps in my Italian listening comprehension). All’s well that ends well, and I now have an Italian phone number, as well as a taste for more snacks.

Wandering from Re di Roma to the Piazza del Colosseo, I made a stop at the Basilica di San Giovanni in Laterano and spent some time walking down Via Merulana, a beautiful avenue of shops and eateries (pizza and supplì below are from Panarte). There was also the Scala Sancta, the Holy Stairs that the faithful must ascend on their knees.

At the end of the day, I spent the evening watching the sun set over the remnants of Ancient Rome…

It’s currently noon on my second day in Rome and I’m still in bed, head aching and still dizzy from everything that happened last night. Fourteen hours of travel is enough to make anyone woozy, and I had decided, after a short nap, to take a leisurely evening stroll around the Fontana di Trevi, snap a few nighttime photos, grab a slice of pizza at Da Michele and call it a night.

I clearly failed at this.

I take the Metro to Stazione Barberini and head toward the Fontana, a bit tired still from jet lag and lack of sleep. As I’m walking down the Via del Tritone, shortly after passing the Fontana del Tritone, I hear a man’s voice at my right. “Is this the way to the Trevi Fountain?” he asks. I tell him I don’t really know, but I think so. He is a Greek man in his middle ages, named Frankos or Franky or something, married with two kids. He owns a restaurant near the Acropolis and enjoys taking short trips to Rome. He works fifteen hours a day and business is demanding. We keep chatting and walking toward the Fontana and reach it in a few minutes.

You know you are close to the Fontana di Trevi when the soothing sound of flowing water begins to hit your ears. Nestled among a series of buildings, it seems to come out of nowhere. Tonight, there is a relatively large crowd here, much larger than when I visited during the early morning six months ago. I take some photos, enjoy the scene and Frankos (or Franky) asks what I’m up to after. I tell him I was going to grab some pizza somewhere. He suggests a beer around Via Veneto (he wants to see the American Embassy). Sure, why not, I think to myself. We head back toward the Piazza Barberini.

This is when things get a little weird. We walk down Via Veneto, admiring the past clientele of the Café de Paris (Fellini, Mastroianni, Belluci, etc.) and the quietness of the American Embassy at night. We head down Via Emilia and Frankos asks the doorman at a place called Carrousel if there is good pizza nearby. The doorman looks at him and quickly responds, “Pizza? Yeah, good pizza. Downstairs.” Given that this establishment is clearly a nightclub, I don’t actually expect anything remotely related to food downstairs. Frankos insists we check it out for a beer anyway.

Upon entering the downstairs room, I immediately see two dancing girls dressed in black on the dance floor. The place is empty. We head to the bar and he asks for two beers, in which we get back bottles of Beck’s. Frankos insists on paying, which is a huge relief for me given what happens next.

Shortly after getting our beers, a huge group of people enter (thankfully) and begin chatting with the staff. One of them walks up to the bar and orders two bottles of Peroni and a cocktail, running him 45€ (that’s 14€ for each Peroni and 17€ for a Jack and Coke). Clearly, he’s taken aback. The bartender complains, “This is a nightclub, not a bar.” He looks at Frankos and myself and shakes his head, “This is a nightclub, not a bar.” I look at one of the guys in the big group and ask, “American?” “Yes sir!” “Where are you from?” “Wisconsin.” “San Francisco.” Then the guy ordering drinks is half laughing in disbelief while verbally vowing never to return. I make a mental note never to return as well.

The big group leaves, Frankos says something to the bartender and he gestures that we should sit at a table. I have a feeling about where this is going, and I am proven correct. The two dancers come by and each sit beside us. I tell her I know a bit of Italian, so we converse. She’s very polite and even corrects me a bit when I make a grammatical error. She’s Romanian, 23, and moved to Rome for work. At this point, Frankos and his “conversation partner” move to a booth in the corner and a bottle of sparking wine is popped. In an effort to save time, I flat out tell her that I have no money, that I just met the guy and that I am about to leave. She tells me that they accept credit cards too. I walk her over to Frankos’s table and ask if he minds that she join them. He is obviously elated, so I leave them all and get back to fresh air and sanity outside.

I’m still hungry, buzzed on Beck’s and walking across Via Aurora, when I spot a huge group walking my way. I smile when I realize it’s the big group of Americans that also escaped Carrousel. I regale them of my story of how I met Frankos and the dancers, and they invite me to tag along. As serendipity had me meeting new friends on airplanes, streets and bars all day, I couldn’t help but say yes.

We walk back down Via Veneto to a place called Pepy’s Bar, near the Piazza Barberini. The environment is lovely: live music, a nice bar and decent prices on wine. The bartender, Simone, is a fun guy, accommodating, despite the fact that there is a fairly large group of intoxicated Americans filling the place. I hear his coworker grumble a bit.

A credit card is thrown down and drinks are bought (the group works with a major American insurance company, so I’m hoping it was a company card). Several glasses of Italian wine later, the group filters out and it’s just down to a couple and myself. We say our goodbyes and they return to their hotel. By now, it’s about one in the morning. I head back to the Fontana di Trevi, thinking Da Michele might be a nocturnal pizza spot. It’s not (I misread “3pm” for “3am” in my Lonely Planet book). I get a few more shots and head back to the Metro.

The Metro is closed. Oops. I start walking back toward Roma Termini, hoping to follow the major streets station-by-station back to where I’m living near Re di Roma. I pass a few buildings that I can’t recall, as well as the beautiful Teatro dell’Opera.

At Roma Termini, I spot a large group waiting at a bus stop. I ask a bus driver walking past how best to go back to Re di Roma at this hour, and he tells me which bus to take and indicates the stop. I eventually catch the owl bus, head back to Re di Roma (while missing my stop and getting lost several times), and eventually sink into bed sometime after 2am.

Phew!

On the left, a pair of brown Onitsuka Mexico 66 sneakers that I wore during my trip to the Mediterranean half a year ago. On the right, a new pair of shoes for my upcoming two months in Italy. One, worn and weathered, covered with dirt from the Acropolis, the House of the Virgin Mary and Pompeii, and no doubt contaminated with whatever it is that makes the streets of the Tenderloin in San Francisco smell. The other, barely scuffed and stiff, ready for action and fully capable of supporting my penchant for walking.

The idea of simultaneous time proposes that all instances occur at once. We are most used to thinking of time in a parallel line: past, present and future. According to simultaneous time, they are, well, simultaneous. This means that while I’m sitting in San Francisco typing this post, I’m also wearing my brown sneakers, perhaps, tossing coins over my shoulder into the Trevi Fountain, while at the same time I’m wearing my dark shoes and wandering the streets of Naples… all while visiting Disneyland for the first time as a six-year-old kid. I’m in New Orleans. I’m in Vancouver. I’m at a picnic in the park. The idea deconstructs our common perception of something that we take for granted, something some physicists don’t even think exists.

Likewise, it’s not until we leave a place that we recognize all the beautiful things we overlook. Why do we travel? Some people like to see new places and eat new animals. Personally, I’m more interested in culture than anything else. I want to understand the everyday lives of faraway people, most likely in an effort to understand more about myself. Maybe that’s why I always have a huge appreciation for “home” whenever I’m away. But then again, if all time is simultaneous, it means I’ve never left.

As I’ll be headed to Italy for two months, I feel it’s necessary that I refresh myself on some tips for traveling abroad. If you have any, please add your top international travel tips in the comments below, as I’m sure I’ll need to know them.

1.) Make your travel plans known

Tell your friends, your family, your credit card company and even the State Department if you feel so inclined. If anything should go wrong, they’ll be more prepared to help you out. With the exception of American Express, who says travel plans don’t need to be noted in advance, making known your travel plans to your credit card company will make your extravagant purchases on useless souvenirs (slightly) less suspicious.

2.) Educate yourself on the place you’re going to

Learn a bit of the language, the customs and the laws before heading to an unfamiliar country. It’s particularly helpful to research public transportation options prior to arrival, thus making it less likely you’ll be “that guy/girl” staring blankly at the train schedule. Knowing what hand gestures to avoid also helps if you’re, say, an “expressive speaker.” Additionally, everyday activities we often take for granted can be very different in other countries. For example, grocery shopping in Italy prohibits you from physically touching produce. It’s a good practice, now that I think of it.

3.) Keep the bling at home and your goods in front

This is fairly obvious, though a woman during my last trip had all her belongings stolen in the Vatican (yes, past admission and inside the basilica). Her pack was slung loosely around her shoulder and, though her valuables were packed deeply within, a thief had no problem taking out all her credit cards without her knowing it. In crowded places, keep your stuff in front of you and in your control. If you’re especially paranoid, certain companies, like Pacsafe, make theft-resistant bags. I picked one up for myself recently.

4.) Consider travel insurance and check your credit card benefits

A small one-time insurance payment can potentially save you from a huge headache should you ever (God forbid) need to cancel your flight during an emergency. Travel insurance also covers lost baggage due to negligence, as well as some medical issues. You should also check with your credit card companies to see what they cover, as many do at no additional charge (American Express is really good with this). Others, like the Capital One Venture Card, allow you to use your credit card without foreign transaction fees.

5.) Make some friends while you’re there

Befriend a few locals if you can, and you’ll instantly gain insider knowledge that no book or website can give you. New friends also provide you a local point of contact should you ever need help with anything. It also makes the trip infinitely more meaningful. ✈