Roma continued.... Rip-offs

On the flight over to Rome, I was reading through my Rick Steves guidebook and came across several lines about pickpockets in Rome. here are some samples...


"With sweet-talking con artists at the station, well dressed pick-pockets on buses and thieving gangs of children at the ancient sites, Rome is a gauntlet of rip-offs."


"Buses are havens for thieves and pick-pockets. If one bus is packed, there's a second one with fewer crowds and thieves."


I thought it was so funny that I read a few of them aloud to Kathy. When we arrived in Rome, we went to the taxi stand and, while we waited for our driver that was in the bathroom, talked to the dispatcher for a few minutes. He began the conversation by telling us to be careful of pick-pockets, but told us that we would be safe if we kept our bags in front of us. He proceeded to rip us off, as he drove with us in the cab, guided the driver totally out of the way and charged us 25 euro for a ride that cost us only 6.90 on the way back! Trevor's driver tried to get him for 50 euro, but Trevor was a little more prepared than we were. He argued with the driver, threw a 10 at him and stormed off. And so, five minutes into our trip, we were already the victims of the thievery that Rick Steves warned us about, albeit not quite the same way he warned it would happen.


Although we were frustrated, we were in Italy! So we did not dwell on it and besides, it's just play money, isn't it? Thereafter, any time we saw a sign that said "Beware of pick-pockets" that were abundant throughout the city, we had a good laugh. Even when we went to a place called the Sacred Steps, there was a sign on the door that warned us of pick-pockets, and of course, we chuckled to ourselves.


We went to this pilgrim's destination for one major reason. We had heard about the Scala Santa from our friend, Allison, who was lucky enough to spend 18 months in beautiful Italy as a missionary. When she told us about this site, we put it on the list of options. Then the evening before we were to leave, Kathy checked her passport and discovered that it had expired two months prior. I reassured her that I have known people that have gotten a passport in the same day. You just have to shell out a little more money and appear in person. Apparently she made promises that if she was able to get her passport in time for our 5:00 pm flight, she would ascend the stairs on her knees, as per the custom. She almost had to go to Philadelphia to do it, but eventually was able to secure her passport about 4 hours before our flight.



And so on our last day in Rome, we went (minus Trevor who was on his way to London). I was self-conscious about taking a photo of Kathy on the stairs because it seemed pretty sacrilegious. (That's Kathy at the bottom of the staircase.) I told her I wasn't going to do the stairs, but then decided I might as well, since we were there. After about the third step, however, I regretted this decision as my knees were already hurting from kneeling on the uneven wooden steps. The people ahead of us (you can see that there were a few nuns there) were taking this ritual very seriously, saying a prayer on each step, and thus holding us tourists back who would have preferred to get it overwith quickly.


Suddenly a group of boys descended upon us and surrounded me. My first thought was, "why are these teen-agers here?" My second thought was, "I can't believe I was worried about a flash going off when these kids are laughing and being obnoxious." My third thought was, "Why are they all up in my grill??" My fourth thought was, "Why can't these people hurry up so I can get off of these steps and get away from these kids?" My fifth thought was, "Oh my gosh, they are totally trying to pick-pocket me!" as I heard the velcro on my messenger bag rip! I almost fell off the step, as I yelled out and rolled over. I looked around and the kids suddenly looked pious as they unconvincingly began to pray on each step with the other pilgrims. I then kept my bag in front of me, as did the other women on the steps, but I was still stuck in the middle of this gang of thieves because there was no where to go. I guess I could have just walked back down the steps, because it seemed the spirit of worship was ruined by my screaming, but people continued to pray and go slowly up the steps and thus I continued as well.


So, in my list of favorite things, obviously one of my favorite things was my bag with super-duper velcro that was so loud, it saved me from getting ripped-off (again).