I thought I would remember how to start this post, but blocking memories out seems to be one easy thing to do. It is like reading a book, you didn’t bookmark it, and then you start to recall which part of the story did you stop, before you try to flip through it to find it somewhere.

I could barely recall how to start. I know I can’t wait to purge all these.

17th March – 5th day in Europe

It was the hardest day of the trip, and for a good reason.

Despite that, it was also the best day of the trip so far.

I woke up, dropped the note, and said my disappointments, and goodbyes.

It was not a drama stunt, but it was the point that I have had enough of the lies that were concocted by them and knew the only way I could get out of them, is to walk.

It wasn’t that I was stupid. When there are aggressive people calling you names despite of the lies when you bust the truth, you just bite it down, until the day you can shove the truth in their face and wonder how they are gonna wriggle their ways through this again.

I could have pretended till the end of the trip but I didn’t.

He didn’t know that I knew.

I left the hotel, and wandered onto the streets of Rome, surprisingly barely remembering any of the disappointment from before, and started exploring on my own, with a map in the pocket.

I walked a couple of streets down and found Basilica di San Giovanni. And then ah, the easily distracted being of me was quick to be awed and barely remember anything lah!

Until, the desperate calls and “sincere, genuine, sentimental, pleading” SMSes started coming in.

I asked strangers to help me take pictures, and the moment I was on the streets alone I got more smiles and eye contacts (Italian men are soooooo seexxxxaaayyy).

I had forgotten some stuff and headed back to the hotel, I managed to shake him off as I ran across the street and saw him disappearing down the other way.

I went up and grabbed my stuff, and he returned. Bah!

There was no drama, no raised voices, no nothing. Just me saying what I had to say, with a smile and plenty of peace. What transpired was what came across as sweet and genuine then, and as he grabbed me suddenly and threw me into his arms saying those words, I was moronically charmed again. Sometimes, being stupid knows no boundaries.

But being stupid had its advantages. At least it took the mind off things easily, and that set the pace for one of the most liberated days of my adventure. Ignorance could be a bliss, I guess.

And I just finished writing about the hardest part of the trip. Now on to the real highlights!

The thing about taking the metro in Rome is that the ticket is one flat rate, and instead of taking it straight to the Ottaviano Station, we dropped off at the Termini Station, and searched for a long, long time for this shop.

In the subway, there was an accordian player playing in the cabin, and even travelling in the metro is such an art!

With the minimal Italian I could muster, we managed to find the place after asking for directions.

And of course, the main reason behind it is to do something really, really Italian – Exploring Rome on a vespa and getting to the other side of Rome across the river where Lavicant Vatican City is!

That took a bit of spontaneity since I probably have to be confident of my navigating skills.

The chap at the shop was nice to tell us we could drop it off in the evening and he would wait up for us. The original bike chosen was reluctant to start, and it was fated that we got the authentic Vespa instead, and I could pretend to be Audrey Hepburn for a day.

The vespa stopped at the traffic junction and I wasn’t sure the road to go. I managed to follow the road signs on the sides of the pretty buildings but couldn’t figure out the last bit of the route.

I asked the auntie who stopped next to us the way. She didn’t understand when I repeated “Vatican City” many times, before I rolled my tongue and purred, “Dove di Citta del Vaticano?“.

VOILAA!!! It worked magic and she gave a comprehensive “Ahh” before pointing out the directions. Straight, turn left.

And as we twirled a roundabout, and parked by the roadside… we got off and walked a short distance, made a little mistake of walking into the forbidden part of Vatican City, before the Swiss Guard (who is sibei handsome) smiled and told me I should be heading other way. We stopped to buy an icecream, and then -gasp- arrived at the preeminent structure before us.

I immediately whipped out my phone and messaged the one person I know who could totally understand the exhilaration of me standing before it, looking at the sunbeams raining down, feeling the urge to tear, and almost wanting to sprint into the square.

I. AM. IN. VATICAN. CITY. AND. I. AM. ABOUT. TO. SET. FOOT. INTO. THE. PLACE. THAT. HOLDS. MY. DREAM.

I WAS GOING TO SEE ADAM’S KKJ IN SISTINE CHAPEL!

One that is not Version 3.0 that doesn’t response to any chest compression and no amount of CPR could resuscitate it back to life.

Ahem.

I hopped and skipped beyond the entrance, and I truly understood what was “The happiest moment of my life” as described by an earlier SMS.

No words. No words can describe how minute I felt when surrounded by such an ethereally structure, a masterpiece so beautifully crafted standing right smack in the centre of St Peter’s Square.

You could spend an hour just standing there, admiring each and every single unique sculpture perched on top of St Peter’s Basilica.

When I stepped into the Basilica, I was shown what I didn’t think was possible. A rich mix of history, geniosity, and pure, dripping talent.

Where can possible such beautiful things exist one? I want to write stories behind each and every element, like the Saints framed in the walls, but I think the recap will never be finished.

So I will just briefly mention the altar with Bernini’s baldacchino in the centre of the basilica which is the bronze canopy seen in the collage above, and the dove right below the dome.

And of course, to see Michelangelo’s La Pieta from 1499 (top right corner), depicting body of Jesus on Mary’s lap after his cruxifition.

As we exited from the basilica, we walked down the galleries that led us a long way towards what I had been looking forward to – Sistine Chapel.

As everyone hurried from one gallery to another, I took my time as I strolled down the corridors, each and everyone of them a piece of art. Was greeted by what was termed “Great castration of Vatican City’s male statutes” in the Angels and Demons movie. Some of them were fortunate enough to have their men-bits intact, though some of them were sadly made enunchs.

The ceilings are extraordinary, and overwhelm with intricate details.

Had to wait for people to clear to take cheeky pictures like the one below where I pinched my nose…. “Who farted?”

.. and the one I mocked at the kkj.

It was more than an hour before I finally set foot into Sistine Chapel, where the huge mass of people were in there, just standing in awe, with their eyes plastered to the ceiling.

I held my breath and was just as overwhelmed. Michelangelo’s masterpiece.

Alas, it was a no-photography zone, and the rule-bender in me did the usual “act blur” tourist stun when I was stopped.

I then faced my camera up in my palm even though I was stopped and snapped away to get some of the shots above.

Unfortunately the shot of me inside Sistine Chapel was too blur to be posted. I even tried to point my finger up and join fingers with the man with 6 pecs but failed.

The journey around Vatican City had wrapped up fabulously with Adam’s kkj, and I left this beautiful state on a high, heading to the jump on the bike to venture to the next destination – Coliseum, where I navigated to perfectly without losing the way.

There is probably not much to talk about the Coliseum that people don’t already know, but to set foot into somewhere more than 1900 years-old, and visualising the brutality that used to take place here, is truly an experience. And it stood the test of time, despite part of it collapsed during an earthquake in 1349. Because of its age, it had seen through different histories throughout the years.

It is actually smaller than I had thought it would be. The ground that covered the arena was removed to reveal the tunnels beneath that used to house the gladiators and animals before each fight. Many of them were killed to entertain the Romans in ancient times, and part of the Coliseum was actually converted to be a cemetery.

It was freaking cold when the breeze came in as you stood at the top of the spectator stand. My teeth were chattering.

As we munched on a hotdog and headed towards the parked bike, we had pretty much covered the must-sees, and we headed back to the heart of Rome, and see where it brings us.

We rode to a small street (again!), going against traffic, before we saw Pantheon right before us. Told you about surprises round the corners when you least expected it.

U-turn back and parked the Vespa next to a pretty eatery.. which we eventually saw Julia Roberts park hers at the exact same spot in Duplicity.

A British tourist struck up a conversation with us as we entered Pantheon, which was erected in 129AD. Pantheon, not the tourist. He was marvelling at how amazing it is for a building this well preserved and it is almost 2000 years old!

The thing about me is, I cannot imagine and really believe that human’s history can be well-documented since so long ago, let alone to be still be able to stand right in the centre of it.

The interior of Pantheon is described as:

The building is circular with a portico of three ranks of huge granite Corinthian columns (eight in the first rank and two groups of four behind) under a pediment opening into the rotunda, under a coffered, concrete dome, with a central opening (oculus) open to the sky. The Pantheon is the oldest large-scale dome in Rome. The height to the oculus and the diameter of the interior circle are the same, 43.3 metres (142 ft). A rectangular structure links the portico with the rotunda. It is one of the best preserved of all Roman buildings. It has been in continuous use throughout its history.

Which makes me wonder what will happen when it rains?

It is also where Raphael’s tomb lies, with his fiance right beside him.

We continued the tour on the Vespa as the evening set in.

We stopped by the Tiber (Tevere) – the river that divides Rome. Many bridges arch over it and it was just gorgeous in the evening.

We went round and round and round Piazza del Popolo just to get back to the right traffic way.

Rounded up the evening with more travelling on the road and admire the architectural beauty of Rome, passing various churches, monuments, fountains, squeezing in and out of the traffic which was comparable to Johorians’.

Made our way back to the rental shop, stopped by a nice, cosy restaurant for dinner.

With me ordering Carbonara again to “try my luck” and ended up vastly disappointed yet again.

Walked to the pharmacy to get some novelty item, before heading back to the hotel by metro.

Rested early as the next day was one that was planned impromptu-ly (at the expense of Firenze), and was shocked by the news of Natasha Richardson’s injury on the television.

And the day ended with me chewing on the ample memories this beautiful city has left me with.

As the recap goes on, the harder it gets, like a reluctant story to be told.

It was an early Monday morning, awfully cold, when we headed to Stansted Airport at 6ish, passing by various landmarks in London, glowing in the morning rays.

Breakfast was done in the queue to pay for luggage check-in, and the incompetence and rudeness of Ryanair staff made me wonder if they only employ the worst.

Of course, I was thrilled to have Krispy Kreme for breakfast (glazed!) accompanied by orange juice.

By the time we finally check-in and made a mad dash to the gate, we reached it 5 minutes before the supposed take off.

Unfortunately, delays are just part and parcel of budget airlines.

Like I had stated before, not that this disclaimer has to go on and on, the recap was what was supposed to be penned, but I didn’t get the chance to do so.

Thus, I would recall it as the events unfold.

The trip was to celebrate his 28th, and the first couple of days in London set it up for a rather fantastic trip.

The turning point was just before boarding when an SMS had came in, cleverly disguised in an unknown number.

Perhaps you would have already read it in the post way back then, but it was clearly the point that I knew that goodbye wasn’t far. It is easier that way. To plan your goodbye, enjoy unbridled-ly, and know very well that turning a blind eye to all the lies spun by both of them could only.. get you this far.

Anyway. I digress. Can you imagine 2 idiots smoking besides a fuelling plane?

I sat on the plane, and planned my escape route. What was frustrating is how it was glaringly obvious, yet no admissions.

And perhaps, that was the turning point.

When you decide to lose all, and ready to do so, it was actually the point when you can liberate yourself to truly understand “carpe diem“.

I bit my lip and willed it away.

3 and half hour later, I was in Italy’s embrace when we touched down at Ciampino Airport.

I thought it wasn’t gonna be easy but the charm and beauty of Italy soon made it so much easier.

I was romancing Roma. I was just so… moved to be there. And I wasn’t kidding I go everywhere and I had tears in my eyes cos I was just so awed.

I am such a pussy. Pfft.

It was a shuttle bus that took us to the Termini Stazione, and my fabulous skills of reading the map meant I could navigate around the small roads and reach the hotel with plenty of easy. Though I have to say with that distance, walking was probably not advised with the luggage.

Just wanted to chill a little, and sat by the windowside and had a breather and watch the Italian crowd buzzed by in the late afternoon in Rome.

I wrote down my thoughts.

I could feel the air turning chilly as evening approached.

Armed with a map, we ventured out into the openness of Rome, not knowing what to expect, as we hadn’t seen anything impressive on our journey from the airport…

Much of the walls were vandalized by graffiti, and I was wondering if Rome was going to disappoint me with my high expectations of it.

But Rome is a city full of surprises. When you turn from a street into a smaller, seemingly quieter street, a few steps more will bring you to the most beautiful sights ever.

The very first one that we got to, was an abandoned park near the hotel, and we decided to walk up the steps.

Little did we know, the sight that would greet us was… the Roman Coliseum in its full glory in the evening sun.

We stopped by a restaurant just opposite the road, and had the nicest Pepperoni pizza ever (there is a picture of me in the 2nd collage sitting at the restaurant).

As it was late in the afternoon, touring it wasn’t an option since the ticket booth was closed, but it was magnificently impressive just to be standing at its foot and imagine Russell Crowe, Joaquin Phoenix and Angelina Jolie in there re-enacting Gladiator.

It was so beautiful.

And there were Nonny horses out there, which wouldn’t stop nibbling my buttons. The ones on my coat.

The Coliseum changes its colour from grey, to orangey.. with the white-washed Arch of Constantine erected stoically by its side.

A walk further down the road led to the Roman Forum, where the ruins and pillars could be seen and you need a little imagination to piece everything together to form a majestic picture of the past.

A statue of Julius Caesar was not far from it, and it was adorned by flowers and all… as he was assassinated on 15th March, 44 BC at the forum, thus a day before was his death anniversary.

It wasn’t too long a walk before we reached a busy junction and a majestic pure-white marble building that resembles a wedding cake.

Piazza Venezia was where we found ourselves. The piazza is at the foot of the Capitoline Hill and near the Roman Forum. It is dominated by the imposing Monument to Vittorio Emanuele II. The building was much more contemporary compared to the others with rich history, and was considered “imposing” and being despised by the Romans.

And the junction in front of it is one tough bitch to cross.

Walked by various, pretty cathedrals and they were all, absolutely gorgeous.

We walked down a typical Italian backstreet, and saw the busy stalls screaming out to tourists.. and I found myself very attracted to the yellow streets.

It was when I turned my head as I came to the end of the street, that I realised I was standing in front of one of the most beautiful sights ever.

The Trevi Fountain!

It is so, so, so, so beautiful in the night. I cupped my face in disbelief and stood there to stare at the exquisite details for a long, long while.

A coin was tossed into the fountain. That should bring me back someday, hopefully with my parents and Minibean.

My brilliant navigating skills brought me to Spanish steps! Lotsa people were gathered there, though the companion was less than thrilled to realise it was literally steps that seemed insignificant to him.

It is the longest and widest staircase in Europe, but I guess for people who grow up in HDB, no staircase could be longer than what we see everyday.

Then again, HDB flats don’t have staircases which are almost 300 years old.

Passed the Palazzo Barberini which now serves as a gallery and museum, with some of Raphael’s work in there.

Trinità dei Monti was already closed by the time we got to the top of the stairs, and from there, we took the route down the slope and brought us to Triton Fountain by Bernini! A merman!

I sat by the side of the fountain for a long, long while, before heading over to one of the restaurants across the road for some fabulous Italian food.

I was determined to try Carbonara but it didn’t turn out the way I thought it would be. It was authentic Italian style but uh.. was a little salty and dry for my liking.

Nonetheless, it was a nice, cosy meal, and pretty affordable.

Left the seat and tried to convey through gestures that I wanted a cake with a candle and the staff were really fabulous with pulling it off though I didn’t think they would understand my instructions.

It was then late as we strutted down the very chilly Roma streets, before we hopped on a cab that brought us half the map across the one in our hands.

We walked half of the map that evening.

And gee, I can’t stop gushing how beautiful Rome is. Especially at night.

The night didn’t end too late, and chilling in the room was tainted by the stench from the socks.

It was the night that the slightly ajar window allowed too much cold to seep in, and I woke constantly to find a warm spot to burrow into.

Goodnight Rome.

There were plans to get onto one of those cheesy tour buses, meet up with the chaps, return to the town I used to stay, Chinatown… and all.

Lazed in bed a little to rid of the jet-lag, before we woke up for a traditional English breakfast.

Day 2 – Of shopping and the countryside

We headed to one of the cafes round the corner and kickstarted the day with a pot of hot tea and chocolate croissant (I used to have that for breakfast with orange juice!).

Before we knew it, we were on our way to Bicester Village for some shopping. We had thought it was gonna be a short distant trip but didn’t expect it to be almost 2 hours away (with Aunty Dorene’s driving that is).

Travelled half the way in the sun “topless”, listening to the radio, and I remember hearing Leona Lewis’ “Run” twice on the journey, and I told myself if I heard it another time on the radio(to and fro), I know it was a sign I was doing something right.

It then got too cold and we stopped halfway to dress the car, but we still saw endless stretch of the blue skies as we sped down the highway.

I didn’t get to hear it for a third time.

I was apprehensive about shopping, cos I didn’t wanna waste the time shopping during the trip, and to travel that distance was pretty time-wasting, or so I thought.

As I got there, the monster within was unleashed.

It was a cluster of outlet stores of branded gear, and with pounds at an all-time low, most of them are considered awesome bargains.

I tried very hard to control, and by the end of the day at 5.30pm, the total damage include: 2 pairs of Puma shoes, a burberry zipped throwover for Minibean, 2 matching Burberry scarf, a set of suit (for him), 2 shirts (for him), a jumper (for him), a pair of Gucci sunglasses, and my favourite buy – a red, hot Burberry trenchcoat, the best buy – Tag Heuer Alter-Ego watch.

I resisted the temptation to bag myself a pair of Alexandra McQueen or a Dior bag.

All the prices were pretty reasonable, and I paid slightly less than S$850 for the watch, the most expensive buy of all. The scarf was $29.90 pounds each with the exchange rate at slightly less than 2.2.

It wasn’t easy for me to decide to splurge, but hey, we travelled the distance, might as well right? I mean, if I didn’t buy anything, I would have wasted an entire day. Ahem.

We packed the boot before we set off for the return journey, and a road sign pointing us towards Blenheim Palace prompted us to embark on an adventure, looking for the Palace we had never been to before.

It took us quite a while, with the help of the GPS, before we finally found the quaint palace as the sun was setting.

It was definitely worthwhile as we found ourselves in Oxfordshire, a town that is so cute and pretty that I don’t know how else to describe it.

It is nothing you would find in London or any other European places for that matter (well uh… cos I have never been to much lah!)… it is just very extraordinary.

We had wanted to rush to the palace before the place is closed, thus we had said we would return to the town later, but it was dark by the time we returned to the town and I didn’t manage to capture its beauty.

As we got off from the car, the guards told us that the palace was closed, and apparently there was gonna be a wedding held there. Wah, then like that sure great place to find rich and successful men. Ahem.

The tourist tag proved to be useful during a random conversation struck up with the guards and an appreciative grin as he gave the go-ahead for us to walk round the park towards the palace sealed the deal.

It definitely ain’t as majestic as any other palaces we had seen before, but the serenity of the place, the spacious vast, and how the 2000 acre park was highlighted by the evening sun made the place absolutely gorgeous.

There was a big path that hugs the lake in its embrace, and it was an hour and a half later, before we finally returned to a darken entrance, where the car was parked.

Blenheim Palace is the birthplace and ancestral home of Sir Winston Churchill a.k.a. the Bulldog and is around 300 years old.

It was the perfect place to take in the autumn’s grace.

On the far left you could vaguely see “The Grand Bridge“.

It got chilly as we reached almost the far end of the park and I was just glad my newest purchase came in handy as I threw it over the other coat.

The piercing wind to the face made me feel like a piece of frozen meat.

We rushed back to London in time for a late dinner, and had authentic Naplese Italian food with Brendan joining us. The restaurant was buzzing with life even though it was no longer early. A flashing thought came to mind of how I could really get used to this.

It was the first time I met Brendan, and he’s a charmer.

By the time we got back, I remember the weather took a dip and the temperature plunged even lower to an unexpected 3 degrees.

The day ended with some light reading, and then it was lights off.

***

Day 3 – Of the familiar, and the casino

Woke up and made a dash to one of my favourite places – Tower of London, which overlooks the London Bridge. It has something to do with my fascination of the monarchy, especially King Henry VIII.

Took the tube and bought an oyster card that didn’t survive more than 15 minutes before we lost it in the tube.

There was already a huge queue at the ticket booth, before we entered into the Palace grounds, exploring different towers, and looking at the crown jewels.

The myths behind it, gave it a shroud of mystery. Tower of London is one of the world’s most haunted site.

It was pretty much touch and go, before we headed to Leicester Square (my weekly hang-out place!) to meet Aunty Dorene, Lynette and Wei for dim sum lunch at Yauatcha. It was one of those hip restaurants with fusion dim sum, and it was of a really interesting concept.

It was another day of fabulous weather with the day not too cold, and the famous gloomy weather stayed away.

We walked from Chinatown, trying to figure out the way in Soho, unfortunately getting ourselves lost. I was smart to dispatch the guy to ask for directions, since the street was littered with guys walking hand in hand. I didn’t think I would have much luck asking for directions. Hurhurhur.

We managed to find the place finally and after lunch, we walked the way down Oxford Street to Selfridges!

Unfortunately, nothing caught my fancy and I survived Selfridges without hurting my wallet. Helped someone bought a Miu miu and an LV bag. Despite how they weren’t meant for myself, it still felt good to be strutting out with those fancy paperbags.

It was in the evening when we were dropped off at Westminster Cathedral, and we explored the place a little, before we walked to Victoria Station (where I used to have to take trains back to Croydon, and vice versa) to grab a map.

It was then a long walk to Buckingham Palace to admire its full glory in the night.

We hang around Victoria Memorial, where the Angels of Truth, Justice and Charity were at.

It was great just to chill and watch the sight in its orangey hue.

By then, it was time to head back to Victoria and meet the loveliest guys for dinner!

Met up with YL, Wenwei, Huina, Suzanne and Uncle Ben at a small eatery where we had duck noodles. The last time I met them (YL, Wenwei and Huina) in the country was 11 years back in Shrewsbury/Birmingham when I made a solo trip to visit them, and I remember I got drunk from lager.

But the last time I met up with this bunch of awesome guys were during Wenwei’s wedding, and we had so much fun.

There are not many weddings people attend and feel that the marriage could last, thus theirs was one that was truly memorable and touching, because it was so genuinely lovely.

It was the highlight of the trip to get to meet up with them and such a cosy dinner was more than enough

Uncle Ben then dropped Suzanne to take a bus back to Nottingham(later did I know Suzanne is actually Lynette’s friend!), before we all squeezed into his car to head to Leicester Square.

We parked at this dark carpark with a car shivering in the cold, before you see 2 faces emerging from the dark. I asked if they wanna walk up and take a closer look, but they say they would cover me should I get attacked for watching a live show.

I doubt so you know, since they probably have to like get dressed and get off the car or else they would really freeze.

They dared me to go up and take a picture instead, but I have no balls.

Came to the junction of Piccadilly Circus and took the obligatory picture of the neon-lights.

When we get to Leicester Square, the bad influence caused me to lose my virginity in the casino! The Empire Casino, which apparently luuuuurrrrrrvvvvess Chinese customers.

And it feels good to be asked to check our IDs just to make sure we were all above 18. Ahem.

The old pals decided to pool in and go for red/black, and luck was obviously not on their side.

I betted on roulette for the first time, and we spent a great deal of the night in there, and surprisingly, were in the black when we called it a night.

When the others decided to leave, we stayed on and continued on till it was late. It was perhaps 1am when we finally left the casino on a very cold night.

As we made our way back to Kensington on the cab, I remember I was incredibly tired as my hair was stroke with tiny pecks planted as I took a short nap. I remember how good it felt, and also painfully aware how short-lived it would be.

After a hot shower, it was plenty of scurrying to pack for next morning’s flight, before a short 4-hours sleep was caught.

And then, a new journey begun.