Viva Italia - Day 10 (Back to Rome)

FRIDAY, JANUARY 22ND

We woke up, started getting our bags packed and ready to go. We had planned on getting everything together, checking out, and having the hotel hold our bags while we hit up one last Venetian lunch. Brandon was really craving the lasagna from the first night, so we decided we would give Al Vecio Marangon another go. They were closed the last time for lunch, but we were hopeful that would not be the case today. Mostly, I would argue, because we were feeling pretty guilty about the whole tip situation and wanted to right this wrong before we left. 

It was still early once we had all of our things in order, so we stopped at Gino's for some caffeine and to mourn the official "death" of my very favorite pair of boots - it was a mutual decision that they should meet their demise in Italy, where they were "born" way back when. We had not previously come in here during the morning hours and it was completely jam packed. We managed to find a seat in the back corner, and took in the last moments of a Venice cafe before heading to lunch.

We took our time en route, window shopping along the way to make sure we hadn't missed anything spectacular the previous days. Also hoping to avoid the boarded up, closed sign that would have shattered our dreams had we arrived any earlier. As we turned the corner, the same waiter from night #1 was opening the doors of Al Vecio Marangon. We were the first customers in the restaurant, right at noon. We didn't even need the menus, we knew we were going to have the exact same meal as we did on our first night here. Minus the dessert and espresso (and only a half liter of wine this time around). 

The Caprese was as creamy and fulfilling as I recalled. Everything was falling into place, but I noticed the lights were starting to get small halos around them. This is usually a sign of one thing for me - a migraine is on the horizon. I'd been extremely fortunate the entire trip, having not had any migraines at all over the course of the past 10 days. Because I didn't want to do anything to make it worse, I took it easy on the red wine for the first time in Italy. I was going to have to adjust to life without Chianti Classico at every meal anyway, might as well start here.....

Our main dishes took some time - we were the first to arrive, and they'd not really been set up in the kitchen entirely. Other patrons had arrived, indulging in Venetian delicacies as well. I was somewhat drooling, watching everyone else stuff their faces with their eats while I waited on my own. Finally, ours arrived and we dug right in. We were watching the clock and knew we had little time to eat, get back to the hotel to pick up our bags, catch the water taxi to the train station and set off for Rome. Still, we knew we wanted to savor what was such a great meal previously. Brandon's? Equally as good. Mine? Not even close. The gnocchi was still perfect, but we had arrived so early that the bolognese hadn't really had a chance to cook and meld together. There's a reason they cook that shit low and slow and all day long. It takes time to be just right! I blame myself, I should have known better...

Making up for past mistakes, we tipped extra this time. As we were signing the bill, it's only appropriate that I looked to my left and made, what felt like, direct eye contact with none other than Bruce! He was coming down the alley, appeared to be alone, but we watched Simone join him as she scurried around the corner to catch up - and off they went! It's only fitting that we managed to see them every single day while in Venice. While I have no doubt his nails were still bright red, and he definitely had on his white leather jacket, he had exchanged the leather pants/shoes onesie for a very normal looking pair of jeans. I should disclose that they were acid wash in color, but hey, progress!

And just like that, we were floating along on a water taxi. Drifting further and further away from Venice, I finally had the realization that this was the beginning of the end to our Italian adventure. With only one more excuse to eat my weight in carbs remaining, I was starting to get homesick for Italy and we hadn't even left yet...

The 4 hour train ride was brutal for me - the constant pressure and popping of my ears as we were in and out of the mountains proved to be too much for my head to handle. By the time we arrived in Rome, I was with full blown migraine and all that comes with it. I was determined to make it to one last dinner, but absolutely had to take medication to even have the possibility of functioning. So I did, and we tried to give me some time to let everything kick in. I knew I was in bad shape, but also did not want this to be how we spent our last night in Italy. Brandon found a highly rated restaurant near our hotel, which we thought would be a safe bet.

Il Gabriello was on a side street, somewhat off of the main drag. It had felt good to get out in the fresh air, I was hopeful the meds were starting to work. That being said, almost immediately after we set down I could tell this was a less than favorable situation. We had no reservations, and there was an Italian argument over what appeared to be whether or not to seat us. Ultimately, they did, but by pulling a two topper in between two other tables that we could barely squeeze in and out of. They did get us water and took our order quickly though, so that was a plus!

After we ordered, I was starting to sweat and felt like I could throw up. Only problem, I couldn't easily get out of my chair nor did I know where the wash closet was located. I started to panic, fearing I wouldn't be able to make it to a bathroom if it did, in fact, come to that. Around the time I was imagining an American pile of vomit on an ancient Italian floor, our appetizers and liter of wine had arrived. Bruschetta and pruciutto. I couldn't even look at either without feeling ill, even though I so badly wanted all of it.  I was visibly struggling, so we decided that it would be best to ask if we could get our entrees to go. Brandon single handedly, and quite impressively, polished off both appetizers and drank the entire liter of red wine in a span of about 15 total minutes. I was feeling so bad at this point that I had to wait outside, while Brandon took care of the bill and got our carry out orders. I felt like a total asshole, but the wait staff was extremely sympathetic about it all. 

Our carbonara and cacio pepe e black truffle pastas in tow, we got back to the hotel without any public displays of projectile bodily fluids. Phew! I got in the shower as soon as we walked in the door, because that sometimes helps my head situation, and Brandon immediately ate his pasta as to avoid a seriously drunken situation of his own. I still wasn't feeling grand after the shower, but eventually I did eat my pasta - it was so good, yet cold as ever (and probably tasting no where close to what it would have if warm in the restaurant). Either way, it still hit the spot. You can't really ever go wrong with black truffles, a good lesson to take home with us!

I hate that this was how we spent our final hours in Rome, cooped up in a hotel room and in bed early because of my migraine. Even with this small wrench that was unexpectedly thrown into our plans on the final night, this trip has been truly amazing from start to finish. As much as we both would have loved one last pasta dinner of epic proportions, this gives us a reason (and need) to return. We have to be up and at 'em early tomorrow, so a good night's sleep is probably a blessing in disguise for us both - especially since we have no intentions of sleeping on the long flight across the pond!