By the time you read this, I should be in Rome. Our flight leaves at Seven. A.M. Ugh. And by 'our' I don't mean Gregory Peck and Me, but Fiona and Me. We've got a little hotel in the Travastere which is good because we'll be taking advantage of the free Vatican Museum Stuff on Sunday-- also at around Seven AM. That's Fi's request. (Though I'm excited to be going. I mean, Sistine Chapel...) Mine is, of course, the nerdiest: to see where Keats died and where he is buried. He still has the saddest epitaph I've ever heard: Here lies one whose name was writ in water. My poor sweet Keatsy. How I love him.
Another gracious, lovely man is Gregory Peck, star of Roman Holiday, (and my birthday twin) who insisted that relative newcomer, Audrey Hepburn get upgraded to equal star billing with him. That's a gentleman, folks. More on my own personal Roman Holiday when I'm back. In the meantime, let's recall a more chivalrous (**with qualifications) age. At least, a more chivalrous era in Hollywood, eh?
Two days, a tiny backpack and a guidebook from the 70's... Italian sun, here I come!
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