The Map Case

The Map

Rome

I am anxious to get to our destination-the Pantheon. It sneaks up on you unexpectedly. We are walking down one of the many tiny, winding cobblestone streets. Window-shopping in Rome is intense. Italians love to look at and have pretty things. I glance into a shop showcasing the latest purses and handbags. One deep purple-colored handbag with small rhinestones lining the edges catches my eye. I wish I could afford that bag. I slow down to take another look. Eleonora has also stopped but in front of the Ferragamo store. I tell her to walk faster or we will end up buying something! Shopping will be for later. Right now I want to see the Pantheon. We hurry towards the street that will lead us to the piazza where the Pantheon lies. As soon as we walk into the piazza, there it is. The majestic granite columns are so wide; they take over the entire piazza. The structure itself is impressive and strange in that it dwarfs everything around it. It seems out of place in this little piazza. And the lines of people surrounding it add to this effect. I walk towards it, still in awe at the massive columns surrounding the main entrance. They are wide and long, holding up the triangular-shaped stone above with Latin words written on it. I wonder what the words mean. As I step inside the main entrance, I look up to the roof and the staggering height is felt instantly. The Pantheon has a circular portico, which you can't see when looking at it from the front. It was a temple to the gods of Ancient Rome.

Istanbul

Steffi and I are walking towards the Blue Mosque where our taxi dropped us off. We are a bit savvier about dealing with the taxi drivers ever since one ripped me off. I ended up paying double for a taxi ride because I was too tired to notice. You learn fast to be on alert in Turkey. The country may be religious and conservative but when it comes to money, they are as ruthless as any other. We hear the ringing of the bells throughout the city. The clanging is something we are already familiar with since arriving early this morning. It is a reminder for the locals to pray.

The walk from the street corner to the mosque is filled with challenges. Steffi's tall blond-haired, blue-eyed physique draws lots of attention from the local vendors. They are everywhere around us shouting to us to look at their wares. One tries to speak to us in broken English asking us where we are from. He is six inches shorter than her with brown eyes and a black beard. He tries to appear friendly but the feeling you get is that he is about to steal your wallet. They pay me no attention because I look Turkish with my black hair and brown eyes. She reacts quickly by moving towards me. I tell him to stop and move away. He ignores me. He is nothing if not resilient.

The weather