Today we waited for our luggage most of the day and surprise surprise our Italian courier failed to deliver it as promised. We consoled ourselves by having lunch at Trastevere's most famous panini shop (it doesn't really have a name or a sign outside but everyone knows where it is). Only in Italy can a bakery dedicate itself to making only one kind of bread and still sell 1,000 loaves per day. This famous shop has quite a line and unlike everything else in Italy the line moves very quickly. No time for indecisiveness or questions in broken italian, but the chances of making a bad choice seem slim. The pannini with prosciutto and fresh mozzarella and the pannini with stewed tomatoes, fresh mozzarella and arugula are absolutely delicious. On our way home we discover a little spa with the sweetest Italian girls working and gossipping with everyone that stopped by. As I waited to have my eyebrows done, we introduced ourselves and asked all about the nightlife of Trastevere. The girls screamed and giggled about us being from Miami (apparently a dream destinantion for young italian women). Kenny has decided he must go back next week after the August holidays and have a massage.
In the evening we explored our lively, colorful neighborhood a bit. We went to dinner at a local traditional Roman restaurant owned by an Egyptian guy that goes by "Tony." There is a huge immigrant population in Rome. We expected this city to be homogenous but it is not at all. Most immigrants appear to be from India, Pakistan, Africa and China. All the same, Tony runs an amazing restaurant (Hosteria del Moro da Tony) with great prices, fabulous gnocchi and fresh fish.
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We loved the impromptu live music provided tableside by this interesting trio.
We made friends with Ferdinando and Alberto who were sitting at the table next to us planning their weekend trip to the shore.
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All Romans seem to head for the shore at Ostia this weekend. Of course, they invited us to come along and stay in Ferdinando's parents home . . . the Italians are incredibly warm.
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