And boy are we tired.

That last two hours on that last plane about killed both of us. Iberia had a clever way of designating “business class.” The first two rows of 3 per side were called “Business” and they only sold the window and aisle seat, leaving the center empty. Just before taking off the attendant slides a contraption into place between the back of the second row and front of the 3rd and closes curtains to create a barrier. We did split a nice ravioli lunch though.

We’d arranged to be collected by a driver and he phoned me just about the minute we stepped off the plane. Between his 9 words of English and my 8 words of Italian we agreed to meet and incredibly it worked out. Because Roma Fiumicino airport is one baffling place. He and I had a nice Englitalian talk on the 30-minute ride to town. Speaking of which, there is no way I’d drive a car here. Between the aggressively crazy scooter drivers and narrow streets, and four lane fast streets that are reduced to two because of tree roots, I quickly realized that being safe and successful driving here is well beyond my skill level.

We found the apartment, met with the nice agent and now we’re waiting to see if our 4th wind develops. I’m not expecting it to.