Text 37205, 111 rader
Skriven 2010-04-29 06:31:24 av Michael Loo
Ärende: more trip 85
====================
Lilli's connection came in to D30, so I tried the A to D
people mover, which worked fine and is quicker, I believe,
than the new way. She hadn't eaten since early in the
morning, so back we went on the D to A people mover. The
Five Guys burger, though as always done done done, was fresh
and good, probably the best Dulles food offering. AeroTrain
back, where we found Gregory at his preferred club. The clubs
give two drink coupons to each international flyer to allow
him or her a head start over the polloi. Lilli and I had a
premium Rioja (2 coupons) and a house red (1 coupon). The
Rioja was somewhat better. Gregory, who doesn't normally
indulge in this way, gave us a stack of his saved coupons
to continue our experimentations with, but we had to board
soon, and our further investigations would be prepaid.
===

UA 966 IAD FCO 1755 0830 777 11HJ

I prefer the minicabin - last time they dumped me out of
the minicabin and into row 11 I filed an indignant complaint
- but there weren't two seats together. Gregory had his
extra-room seat in 13, and we could have had the seats next,
but we all decided that it would be better that he get his
work done, and I could get my sleep, and Lilli could do
whatever she does on longhaul flights.

The company was so good that I failed to pay attention to
my food - atypical though mediocre the food be. It was
"braised beef with peppercorn sauce, potatoes au gratin
and sauteed spinach"; it was not so long ago that the coach
meals were better than this, though they too were mediocre.
I remember a whiff of preserved potato and not too bad
greens; of the meat not a clue. Several glasses of Chateau
de la Croix Cru Bourgeois Medoc 2007 (wood, brambles,
mushrooms) put me kind of under, and I probably slept
through dessert and definitely slept through breakfast.

We popped out of that plane in short order. Gregory went off
to the Hilton to check in; as Alitalia was doing the baggage
chores, we waited 45 min for Lilli's smallish suitcase. Then
through this maze (Gregory reappeared halfway on our journey
to serve as guide) to Sixt, where we picked up a silver gray
(the color of the year, looks like, from all the cars on the
road) Chevy compact. It was an okay vehicle, I think, even
though being crunched in the back seat with Lilli driving and
Gregory riding shotgun, my knees didn't agree. Also, when we
first got the thing, the fumes and noxious smells that came
out of its works threatened to do me in, but those blew off
after a couple hours. Also also, first and reverse are far
off from where you would expect from the little diagram, so
that pushing the gearshift into what you'd think was first
would get third, and pushing right and back to reverse would
cause this ugly grinding noise and make the car lurch to a
standstill unless you got it just right.

We headed southeast to Lido di Ostia and beyond, then inland
to and past Pomezia. At Castel Gandolfo we stopped to hike
up for a view of Lago Albano and to the papal palace; while
the two of them looked at the town square, I caught a short
glimpse of the gates opening and an official car zooming out
of the secret dominion - pity I can't see so well. We then
blasted through Grottaferrata (oh, that's a nice abbey, oh,
well, we have a train to catch) and went on to Frascati.
Tried to find the train station, but neither Ms. Garmin
(imported specially for this purpose) nor our intuitions
succeeded. We did find one "stazione" sign, but it pointed
sort of nowhereish, with no further signs. Eventually it
was located, down in a hollow beneath the big piazza, and,
that task done, we looked for lunch. Found a place a couple
blocks off the main drag. A bottle of water and a cold
carafe of red (really a sort of rose - low in alcohol and
flavor, somewhat flowery, very light, good for the purpose),
made by the proprietor, quenched our thirst nicely. 

Gregory tried to order from the menu, but it was made known
to him through a combination of my hideous Italian and the
owner's next to nonexistent English that gnocchi al ragu
was the pasta of the day, take it or leave it. We took it,
and it was apparently pretty decent. Lilli's porchetta was
fine, a little fatty and gristly, but I got the fat and
gristle. I won with the salumi misti, all the charcuterie
apparently made in house - hot coppa, prosciutto, salami
2 kinds (one fattier and milder, the other drier and more
aggressive in taste) and horse jerky 2 kinds (one reddish
and hard, tasting rather like anyone else's jerky, the
other the texture of taffy, dark and almost putrefied,
cheeselike, of which I left most). I reflected that this
must have been a test, and I don't know if I passed or
flunked by leaving it. A short foot tour of town, then
Caffe Belvedere for gelati - I tasted the nocciola and the
cioccolato, both excellent examples. Then Gregory went off
to catch his train, and Lilli and I drove up the mountain
to the Grand Hotel Villa Tuscolana, apparently formerly
the bishop's residence, now managed by the Salesians as a
resort and convention center. Lilli had gotten a terrific
rate, about a third of list.

I always feel odd turning over my passport for the night,
even with the wrath of God waiting for those who might try
to steal it, but apparently this remains a requirement here
(as it used to be at all Italian hotels). In return, I got
a smallish room, perhaps the size of a monastery cell, but
with a pretty nice bathroom and a terrific view over the
neighboring villas and down to the town. Lilli reports that
her room was essentially identical but with a better window
and no view.

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