A Little is Good, A Latte is Better

Un cafe latte is good, and not strong but not weak either, pretty just right, whereas un cafe con latte is mostly milk with just a touch of coffee- in other words, lame and not worth a cent of your 2.5 euro. It has taken me all day and nearly 15 euros to learn that.

I've started to like the people here, which is a relief after the well-dressed stone-cold killer faces on the people flying back to Rome from New York via Philly. A surprising number of men in Adidas track suits were on board, most of who tidily changed into something more skinny-jeaned and dark before deplaning.

The people I have talked to speak plenty of English we have found them quite tolerant of our sadly Spanglish attempts at ordering food. It seems our month of Pimmsler language tapes did little except confuse us and take the little Spanish that we knew and ruin it. It did teach me how to ask to have both a beer and some wine and, "Dove Via Veneto?" which should come in very handy if we try to go there.

We have had only some small amount of adventure so far but enough to feel we have arrived.

The subway is fantastic, easy to navigate, and packed to the gills. The trains are beautiful if you are a graffiti fan like me and they get packed enough that you actually could get pickpocketed without noticing. Personally, I am waiting to meet the guy on the moped I keep hearing about to drive by and snatch our bag. We heard some beautiful music from a lovely man moving through the train and paid him .5 euros for the pleasure.

Ezra is happy to have had the opportunity to take several trains and tonight we get to try bus number 60, as we are heading to Fabio and Simona's house for dinner.