So provided that my bag doesn't explode when I try to pack my laptop, I'm good to go. I'm ready to go home, if only to get the dreary "Arrivederci Roma" out of my head.
I only had a couple of hours this morning, and I was torn about where to take my valedictory tour - to the Colosseum, which would be magnificent and inspiring and an appropriate farewell, or to the Spanish Steps, where there would be Babingtons and therefore scones.
Oh well. If you guessed wrong, you can still have a consolation scone. Although in the end I just had toast, because I didn't really feel like filling myself with a wealth of whipped cream, but the thought of a scone without cream is the epitome of unbearable melancholy. It was amazing toast though, and I wanted to buy a jar of the jam, but I'm not sure how NZ border control would feel about homemade preserves. Aren't they known to be deadly to native birds?
But I did see those two most potent symbols of Rome, the dork in the gladiator costume and the pushy flower seller.
And there was decent view from the top of the Spanish Steps. I feel like I've already taken this photo. Days and places and views are all a bit of a blur at the moment.
So that's it from Rome. I can only leave you with the words spoken by an American woman at the restaurant where I ate last night. As she entered, the waiter called out a cheerful "Buona sera!" and she replied, in ringing tones, "Yes, Boner Sarah!"
So Boner Sarah to you all!
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