I Hate Stuff

Remember the good old days when everything you owned fit into your bedroom?  Everything.  All my clothes fit in one average sized non walk in closet, one tiny dresser, and a tall dresser.  I had one bookshelf, and a desk.  I had even less to work with when I lived on campus in college. 

And then this whole adulting thing happens. Somehow you end up with more stuff, and sometimes even your stuff needs stuff.

I lived in a few apartments.  I accumulated things, along with furniture.  I got rid of all that furniture and a lot of things, and started over in a tiny 400 square foot studio.  I'd say that was my most minimal moment of all.  MJ still laughs at me because I only had like three pairs of shoes...and they were all ugly.  Also, I had almost nothing in my kitchen.  Over time, I accumulated more clothes, more shoes.  Not a lot, and very few things, simply because of limited income and limited space.  I really grew to hate stuff, and would only take in essentials because any new items that came into the house was just another things to find space for.

Then we got a house.  It's great.  We don't have to live on top of each other, and my clothes were no longer perpetually wrinkled from being too tightly packed.  There is a place for everything and everything in it's place.  Well, as much as humanly possible, because let's just say I'm the neat one.  We brought our own set of stuff into the merged household.  We decided what to keep, and what to toss.  Houses need stuff, so we bought furniture, decor, and kitchen housewares.  I got a 3-drawer file cabinet to keep up with important documents.  We have a basket of cords, and chargers, and all manner of random electronics.  I don't even know what half of it is.  Over time, I accumulated more clothing, and my own personal junk drawer, that I've been meaning to clean out for a few years.  We have plenty of stuff.  

I have a bunch of plastic shopping bags in my bottom drawer at work.  Why?  I have receipts for random things from three years ago.  Why?  You would not believe the number of tote bags, and carry cases I have.  I am literally, a bag lady.  I have a bathroom cabinet, make that two, full of toiletries I'm not using.  I have a stack of photo greeting cards we have received over the years sitting on a leaning bookshelf, that I don't want but feel badly about throwing them away.  I have clothes I haven't worn since Bill Clinton was president.  Whhhyyy? 

And you can only imagine how excited we were when MJ's aunt sent him a gigantic box full of random stuff from grandma's house.  We pulled out a few items, but this box of useless stuff basically went from one person's garage to another.

I'm not into nick nacks or having random objects.  I am conscientious about what I bring into the house, but once it's in I find it really hard to let it go.  I've got my childhood keepsakes down to two plastic bins in the garage, and I plan on holding onto some letters and cards from family that hold sentimental value.  That fits in a box.  I'm fine with that.  My biggest problem is clothing, and personal items.  Like those damn tote bags.  And pajamas.  I have only purchased a few pajama items in the last decade for two reasons.  1. I went through a serious Victoria's Secret pajama frenzy a long time ago and I have a ton.  2.  A lot of my old clothing becomes lounge wear/pajamas because I am so reluctant to get rid of anything.  It has to be a rag before I think I should get rid of something, and even then something inside of me makes me think I can save it...or that I need to re purpose it into a dust rag.  I get anxious about getting rid of things I might need later, because it would be the end of the world, if I had to re-buy it.  I feel guilty about getting rid of anything that was a gift.  I once drove around with a Goodwill stash in my trunk for an entire year.  I am not proud of this. 

I might be a a borderline hoarder.

These cubes are awesome!! 

I came home from work one day and went on a rampage.  I didn't plan it, I just knew that stuff needed to go.  I went straight to my closet and started pulling clothes of hangers.  Then I moved to my pajama trunk, then my sock drawer, then my workout wear drawer, then my shoes....and well...you get the idea.  Once I started I couldn't stop and I ended up with a nice pile of clothing that is going to goodwill or the trash or anywhere, but my house.  I found these cloth collapsible bins to organize my pajama trunk and purses.  I feel really good about it.

All that stuff was sitting inside my house, but once I let it go I realized that I had also been carrying it around with me.  It bothered me that my closet was so tight with clothes I don't wear; clothes I don't even like.  Seeing clothes I disliked, mixed in with clothes I did like, was making me feel bad about my entire wardrobe.  It was a burden just having them take up space, and now that they have been relegated to the get rid of it pile, it feels great.  I have tons of boxes that have been chilling in the extra room since last year that need to go as well.  It's time! I'm over it.  I did a round of paring down the house a while back, but I need to go back and do more.

I love the idea of minimalism.   I even love the idea of  Tiny House living for that reason.  You cut stuff and you cut expenses freeing up your time and money for what is truly important to you.  I kind of want a Tiny House, however, I don't think I could get my husband to live there with me and I'm pretty sure I'd end up hating it anyway.  I lived in that 400 foot studio for five years.  It was cool at first, but by the time I moved out I felt like a rat in a cage.  It was stifling.  I need space, but I also want a streamlined and uncluttered life.  I enjoy having a reasonable amount of stuff, but I crave order, organization, and simplicity.  I want stuff, but I hate stuff.

I don't want to be forced into keeping less stuff by living in a shoe box.  I want to do it on my own.  The trick of it all is finding a balance, and learning how to free myself from an attachment to items. That's the part I suck at.  I did the KonMari folding method on my husbands T-shirts awhile back, and I think it's time to KonMari my life.

 
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Bikini Body Guide vs Healthy Body Guide Reviewed

I really love the flexibility of working out at home.  I don't have to drive there, jockey for space, or look at other people's sweat.  I was so excited when I found Bikini Body Guide because it gave me more workouts to do in the convenience of my home.  I don't even have to bother with a DVD and I can blast the music as loud as I want.  Then I found Healthy Body Guide and that was even more variety, which is always a good thing to prevent exercise boredom.  I've completed all 24 weeks of the Bikini Body Guide and done the 12 week Healthy Body Guide.  They are both circuit training style workouts and kind of similar, so I thought it might be helpful to review and compare the two for anyone who might be wondering which one to do or if the more expensive Bikini Body Guide is worth the money.   This is the basic rundown of each program.

In Those Jeans

Wow.  This time last year I was just starting my determined quest to lose weight, tone up, and fix my metabolism once and for all.  To those of you just starting out this year.  Keep going.  Don't quit.  You will thank yourself by the time Summer turns into Thanksgiving and you don't have to beat yourself up about extra carbs and a few missed workouts sabotaging your progress.  They won't, because you have already done the work.

I did an 8 week challenge I found on Instagram and the 12 week Bikini Body Guide back to back from January to May.  I continued consistent workouts, but took two months off from a specific program in June and July.  I took a bit of a break in July, due to travel and other things.  I could feel myself losing motivation so I started the 12 week Healthy Body Guide in August and that took me all the way through October.  I had an I have to do this, no excuses mindset that you really need to put up with hard workouts day in and day out on top of work and everything else.  It kept me on schedule.  If I missed a day, I'd have to double up, or I would fall behind.  Skipping even one day, could lead to another, and another so I committed to the process and that was that. I cannot begin to tell you how excited and relieved I was when I did that last total body workout.  It was the end of ten long, hard, awesome, and productive months of 5-6 days a week of intense exercise.  Being on a program is great for motivation and accountability, but I was so tired and so over it, and also pretty proud of myself for sticking with it and accomplishing my goals.  

The year before, I had gone through my closet and weeded out clothes I hoped I might fit into again and others I knew were a lost cause.  So many designer jeans.  Joe's.  Seven's.  Gone.  Never to be worn again.  Expensive jeans were never important to me.  I was fine with Old Navy, Levi's...whatever fit good at a reasonable price, until that one day I went out and bought a pair of Joe's Jeans.  I was hooked.  They felt AMAZING.  I had finally allowed myself to cough up the money for designer jeans and look what happened?  Sadly, I removed them from my closet because I couldn't bear to look at them any more and I told myself I would never buy another pair again.  Ever.  In my mind I didn't deserve them.  I had my chance and I got fat.

December 2011:  Not my lowest weight | December 2016: 18 lbs heavier 

It was so hard to see my body changing in the mirror and have no control over it.  I was aware of the fabric pressing against my thighs making me want to jump out of my skin, and I felt bulk and fat where there used to be bone.  The scale went up, and up and up and then my clothes got too tight.  I still remember that day, summer 2015, when MJ and I were getting ready to spend the day biking downtown.  I went through my drawers, and realized I had no shorts that fit.  I had been hiding under skirts all year, even in the winter.  I had already busted out of all pants, but could still squeeze into shorts.  We had to stop at Kohl's on the way, and there was hardly anything to choose from because summer shorts had already been replaced by Jeans.  I was devastated, miserable, ashamed, and so angry at myself for putting myself in that position in the first place.

By this time last year, I had mourned the loss of my skinny body for almost three years.  I'd gained so much weight and it felt hopeless, but I didn't give up.  I stuck to the plan and  ever so slowly, my body began to respond.  Ever so slowly, I am learning to appreciate the stronger healthier body I have now.

I know I should have been grateful just to have a body that works, but the reality is that I don't think I was ever going to be satisfied with the body I had last year.  I did not recognize the person I saw in the mirror.  It was not my best me, and I knew it.  That body was the aftermath of years and years of disordered eating.  My quest for thin had backfired, leaving me with a decimated metabolism, and insatiable hunger.  I was hungry all the time!  No matter how much I exercised or what I ate, the pounds piled on, and the only way to fix it was to do what I should have been doing all along.  Healthy eating (not minimal eating) and exercise.  It's no secret, but somehow all these years I had no idea that you could actually eat food and lose weight.  That concept did not exist for me and no matter how many times I read it, heard it, and was told it, I refused to believe.  It was my way or the highway, and my way was to eat as little food as possible, do as much exercise as possible, and still be a functioning human being.  It was a big change.  I had to get used to not ignoring hunger cues.  Hunger pangs used to mean I was doing something right, but now they mean it's time to eat.  I had to learn to feed my body what it actually needed.  1/2 cup of fiber one cereal, one string cheese, and a tiny container of yogurt is not lunch and thin deli slices of ham, with 45 calorie slice of reduced fat cheese between two pieces of 50 calorie bread is not dinner.  It's not normal to have a zero calorie day.  Do you know what that is?  It didn't happen all the time, but it is a day where I ate so little food and exercised so much that my net sum calories was zero.  I was trashing my body and it felt good.  I liked it.  Just think about that for a moment.

Oh, the things I had to do to fit into those jeans!

The worst thing about it.  Well, not the worst thing.  The worst thing was being that physically and mentally unwell.  The second worse thing is that I still thought I was fat, and nobody, not my mom, not my husband, could tell me any different.  If you are going to suffer that much you'd think you would at least enjoy being thin right?  But that's not how it works.

I lost about 10 lbs and 5 1/2 inches.  I am fitting into pants and shorts I couldn't get into before, but there are others that I will never get back into.  I cried when I could barely pull them past my thighs, but I'm coming to terms with the fact that I will not and should not ever be that size again.  It's that simple.  I can't go back.  I have curves.  I have a butt.  I can no longer cut glass with my shoulder bones, and knobby elbows and that's okay.  I still have plenty of days when I miss how I used to look, but overall I'm happy with the progress I made and making peace with how I'm built.  I am sitting at 23lbs above my lowest weight, but thin does not always equal healthy.  I actually think I'm in the best shape of my life right now.  My blood pressure was 97/52 at my last doctor's appointment and my resting heart rate is in the 50's.  Those are the real reasons people should exercise.  Not just for vanity.

It took me a long time to come around, but if this is the body I'm meant to have I think it's time to reconsider those designer jeans.  The "fat jeans" I bought in 2014 are getting too big.  I've worked hard, and the curvy me deserves them even more than the skinny me ever did.  

 
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12 Days of Awesome

De Nile river is not just a river in Africa because it's running all through me right now.  Deep.  Even as late as driving to work today, I thought that somehow I was wrong and I wasn't supposed to go back yet.  I had convinced myself that I would arrive to an empty parking lot and realize I did my calendar dates wrong and I had one more day.  I'd already done the work of getting up, but no matter, I'd happily drive home and hop back into bed with my slumbering husband.  Whelp.  That didn't happen.

I also meant to write a post about Christmas, and then I'd do a second post about New Year's, but that didn't happen either.

The worst thing about the holiday break is that I stumbled out of bed in the middle of the night at the Hard Rock Hotel and accidentally drank an $11 bottle of hotel water instead of the $1.99 bottle I brought from home.  In other words, my break was pretty awesome. 

By the end of the year I'm exhausted.  It doesn't matter how many vacations I've had either.  I'm exhausted, and it's cold, and all I want to do is curl up into a ball for the rest of my life.  It's a good thing I don't ever have a lot of holiday shopping to do, because I simply don't have the energy for it.  Malls, crowds, post offices.  NO.  I went straight to Amazon for one husband plus an adorable niece and nephew.  We usually do a family gift exchange, but we didn't even do that this year.  Everyone had an expensive year, and for a bunch of adults Christmas gifting is just not that important.  We'll re-evaluate next year.  I look forward to holiday break with a vengeance every single year.  It's the one reason I won't quit this job.  Well, it's not the only reason, but totally free days of paid time off for Christmas is pretty high up there.  The first official thing I did over Christmas break besides shut down my stupid  6:20am weekday alarm was eat pizza at happy hour, and it only got better.  There were plenty of lazy mornings drinking coffee and watching TV, that turned into an entire day spent in pajamas, but I didn't spend the entire time at home...although that doesn't sound half bad.

We didn't do cards.  This is it.

We opened presents on Christmas morning, just the two of us.  Guys.  He got me Chanel No. 5.  I have definitely heard of it, but never smelled it because why would I?  But it smells so good.  I don't know how much it costs but I'm pretty sure it's worth every penny.  He also got me the perfect cashmere sweater.  It fits exactly the way I like it.  He got me a few other perfect gifts, but he always does good when it comes to gifts.  This year I think I did pretty good too, and I have to add that I did not get one clue from him as to what he wanted.  Not one!  The only thing he could think of that he wanted and didn't already have is a gun and I'm absolutely not the best person to shop for it so that was out.  He went out and bought his own gun (as adults do) and I came up with some other things that he loved including that polka dot shirt from Land's End.  I wore my new sweater and he wore his new shirt that night to dinner.  We are those people who go out to dinner on holidays so Christmas dinner was at George's at the Cove- California Modern in La Jolla.  It was pricey, but at least I can say I didn't mind the bill that much because the food was so exceptional it felt worth it.

The day after Christmas we went to the movies to see Fences (Denzel Washington).  The day after that we hiked Mt. Woodson at Lake Poway which is 7.5 miles and very challenging.  Afterwards we went to the very same place we went to after the last time we did that hike and I ate the very same thing.  Nicky Rotten's!!  Nothing like a hot juicy burger and an ice cold beer after a 1,000 calorie hike.

Hard Rock Hotel for New Year's Eve was his idea.  Well, it was his friends idea, and that friend didn't even end up going, but we didn't let that stop us.  My first thought when MJ told me he booked the tickets was darn, I'm going to have to wear heels.  I gave up on heels.  I hate heels.  I no longer wear heels.  The last time I wore them was during the summer when I went out in Las Vegas and my feet hate heels so much one of the shoes broke.  Heels aside, I was still excited because we haven't done the going out thing for New Year's Eve since 2013.  MJ is here for a limited time only so we might as well live it up.  The folks who came to party at Hard Rock are serious.  They showed up in droves dressed to kill, and by that I mean in the shortest, tightest, lowest cut, shiniest dresses possible.  I was no exception (minus the sequins)! The place was packed, the dance floor was packed, and any semblance that I made any effort at all to do my hair was gone by the end of the night.  I toughed it out in those heels for as long as humanly possible which turned out to be three hours.  My hair was wilted and my feet were DONE, but those three hours were really fun! I drank just enough to wake up with a headache, which was no big deal really.  Nothing that a giant pancake couldn't cure.

We stayed at Hard Rock an extra night so the next day we went to breakfast...well it was more like brunch by the time I made it out of bed.  No, I did not order an entire cake for myself.  That giant thing is a baked cinnamon pancake from Richard Walker's Pancake House.  I was only able to eat half of it, but it was really good.  After that we walked over to the International Auto Show at the convention center, and then picked up food from a really loud bar called Bootlegger, where we saw an almost fight on our way out, and ate dinner in bed while watching a movie.  I really like eating in bed because it's something we don't do at home, and I'm telling you, the Cobb salad that came out of that box was one of the best I have ever eaten in my life.  It was great.  Everything was great.  Not even the accidental drinking of bottled water that cost more than a bottle of decent wine could bring me down.

The Gaslamp

I love a good staycation.  I felt like I had all the time in the world with myself and with my husband for sleeping in, watching TV, morning walks, and just existing in life without any real responsibilities.  I really, really needed that and I'm pretty sure I'm going to really really need it again in approximately 353 days. 

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Why I Couldn't Watch the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show

I knew I was in a good place when Halloween rolled around.  Eating candy didn't make me hate myself.  Finding out that there was going to be pizza served for the office didn't send me into a panic.  This time last year,  and the year before, I was not in a good place.  I was feeling out of control and utterly disgusted with my appearance and it was a daily battle just to exist in my own skin.  I felt trapped.  Hopeless.  I had gone from being the skinny one to hiding under skirts and tunics.  I was in no condition to watch the Victoria's Secret Fashion show.

I bought three VS bikinis this year and the majority of my bras and jammies come from there.  I love the brand and I always love the musical guests they choose like Akon, Selena Gomez, and Rhianna.  The Victoria's Secret fashion show is the holy grail of modeling jobs, the super bowl of runway, and viewed by millions.  It is a cohesive blend of performance, fashion, and whimsy, that I have always enjoyed watching except those two years I couldn't do it.

The show has evolved.  Remember when Victoria's Secret models represented the fuller, yet still very slim model figure?  They had boobs and hips. Some of them even had butts.  Some of them still do, but since 2013 high fashion editorial types have joined their ranks. The girls are getting thinner.  Also, the show isn't just about what happens on the stage.  They've taken us backstage, and added behind the scene segments and special clips  featuring the models.  We're so lucky! Once you are in the show, your life changes.  Between the interviews, sexy commercials, backstage access, and casting footage the Victoria's Secret fashion show is basically a one hour long celebration of beautiful genetically gifted women who are paid very well to look good, and travel the world. 

I didn't want to hear them talk about how they don't wake up looking that way.  We work really hard at it, and I don't doubt that they do, but to deny genetics as a major reason they get to do what they do is BS.  No amount of starving, or working out would have ever given me, or most women their barbie doll like proportions.  The average woman is now a size 16.  At my thinnest, when I was working really hard at resisting food, and working off half of what I did put into my mouth, I could still have never been a VS model.  I didn't have the height or the waist to hip ratio, and that was fine.  I took comfort in being skinny, and when that went away it was a serious blow to my confidence.  At least with the catalog you can kid yourself into believing that it's all photo shop and they don't really look like that, but when you see them live in HD the truth is revealed.  They really look like that.  How could I watch those perfect angels glide gleefully down the runway in all of their hard edged, flat ab, thin glory as the entire world watches in adoration?  I couldn't do it.  My precious bones were gone, and to watch the show would have stirred up all kinds of feelings of envy and grief that I couldn't handle.  It's hard to admit, but I simply didn't have the self-esteem to sit through the 2014 Victoria's Secret fashion show and not hate myself and/or dissolve into tears.  It's the same reason I had to unfollow certain Instagram accounts.  The show would have to wait until I felt I could handle it.

The 2014 Victoria's Secret Fashion show sat in my DVR queue until football season 2015.  I was following a meal plan and lifting weights.  I was taking action.  I wouldn't be fat much longer, so I sat down and watched Ariana Grande, Ed Sheeran, Hozier, and Taylor Swift, who could practically be a Victoria's Secret model herself.  I watched the models flirt with the audience as they strutted down the runway.  I was fine, yet four months later when the 2015 show was televised, I couldn't watch.  Things were worse than ever.  The weight continued to pile on, Bikini Body Guide, Whole30, and anything else I tried be damned.  I couldn't punish myself with two Victoria's Secret Shows in the same year, so the 2015 show sat in the DVR.  I told myself I'd watch it when I felt better about myself, and it finally happened.  A year later.

I didn't watch the December 2015 Victoria's Secret fashion show until November of 2016, just before I left for Germany.  It was time.  I was ready.  I was in a good place.  I did Bikini Body Guide, meal prepped and was very consistent with diet and exercise.  I worked super hard to fix my metabolism, lose weight, have a better relationship with food, and accept my changing body.  I was getting ready to go three weeks without exercise or my usual meal planning and I knew I was ready for that too.  It took me a year to watch the Victoria's Secret fashion show, twice, but when the 2016 show rolled around it only took me a few nights.      
 
We're in Paris!  This is where it all happens!  We are so fortunate!  Alessandra, Behati, Lily, Gigi, Kendall.  They flirted their way down the runway on impossibly long legs and tiny waists peppered with abs.  Sure, I sat there marveling at the way their legs barely jiggle when they stomp the runway in stilettos, and how insanely gorgeous they are, but I was unaffected.  The commercials in which every perfect VS Angel body part is featured in a cinematographic work of art did not phase me, and I didn't bat an eye at their yearly segment on what they do to prepare for the show.  Oh really, is that all I have to do?  I still can't figure out how Lady Gaga walks in those ridiculous shoes, but I love it that she stole the show with her confidence and commanding performance. Bruno Mars, is freaking adorable and I looked real hard to to figure out which VS model The Weekend had dated because I heard about a death glare on the radio.  I loved it.

I was able to sit and enjoy the Victoria's Secret Fashion show for what it is.  An gorgeous entertaining spectacle of smoke and mirrors that doesn't have anything to do with me as a person.  Nothing more, nothing less. 

 
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What is this Place?

It was pretty late when we landed in Rome.  After about a 15-20 minute ride the car pulled up to this mysterious gate off a long dark road.  It was close to midnight.  The gate swung open, and the gravel crunched under the tires as we pulled into the compound.

"Where the heck are we?  What is this place?" I was so confused.  It didn't look like a hotel, so what was it?
 
The driver helped us up the stairs with our bags and a young man with long dark curly hair came out of one of the doors, introduced himself as Alessandro, and had a hushed chat with the driver.  It was dark.  Quiet.  The area seemed deserted.  Were we being set up for an international abduction?  The driver left and Alessandro opened the door two doors down from the one he came out of.  I had checked it out on Trip Advisor, but still, I was a little nervous about what was inside.  The minute we walked in, I had a serious are you kidding me moment.  Is this really where we are staying? All I could see was a long hallway, but it was like the prettiest hallway I had ever seen.  The place was huge!  Alessandro said they were putting us in the first room on the right as it was the best one, and that since it was late we could come next door in the morning to talk about what we wanted to do while we were there.

Door on the right is our bedroom

Our bedroom

Our bathroom

Well how many rooms are in this place?

The hallway was lined with doors, and behind each one was an artfully decorated bedroom.  I was really tired, but I tramped in and out of four bedrooms and three bathrooms with my mouth hanging open.  We opened door after door until we finally got to the rear of the house where we found one more small bedroom with an attached bath off the kitchen.  The kitchen was amazing.  The living room and dining room were amazing.  This place was simply amazing!  We toured the whole place in awe before settling down to unpack and get to bed.

I peaked out the windows.  All I saw was darkness, and I still couldn't figure it out where we were.

Cozy living room.  All the windows in the apartment were automated.

Appia Antica Resort is not your typical hotel.  It is tucked away in Appia Antica, which is the largest green space in Rome.  It's quaint and unassuming on the outside, but inside the decor is impeccable.  Every detail from the poured concrete floors to the soft overhead lighting was so well done.  It feels like an apartment because there are only four units, but it feels like a hotel because of the complimentary basket of toiletries and house slippers in the bathroom.  There was even a hair dryer.  Not a big deal, but it had a diffuser! Maybe I've been living under a rock or something, but I've never seen such a thing!  It feels like an apartment because it's in a quiet neighborhood where people actually live, but it also feels like a hotel because it is so fancy, and they clean your room when you leave.  It feels like a boutique hotel because the personalized hospitality was unlike anything I've experienced anywhere else, and yet it feels like an apartment because of the fully stocked kitchen that has everything and anything you could possibly need.  Tea cups, mugs, cooking utensils, adorable flatware.  The wine glasses were stored in this wonderful old curio cabinet in the living room and there was a pretty nice selection of wines to choose from.  The refrigerator was filled with bottled water, sparkling water, cold cuts, eggs, and milk.  There was coffee and this cute little basket with snack cookies we couldn't stop eating, bread, and cereal.  When you stay there you really feel like you are experiencing what it is like to live in an Italian neighborhood, and yet there is staff on hand taking excellent care to make sure that all of your needs are met.

Eat In Kitchen:  heart eyes emoji.  And there was a washer/dryer and dishwasher tucked behind those cabinets

The smaller bedroom with attached bath is just off the kitchen to the right

Dessert!

I woke up the next morning and still couldn't believe I was staying in this amazing place.  The equivalent of the hotel lobby is run out of the foyer of one of the apartments.  I didn't see much more than the foyer but it had a huge set of marble stairs leading upstairs and I can only imagine that it was just as fabulous as the place we were in.  When we opened our door Alessandro was right there to invite us in and help us plan our day.  He provided maps and bus numbers, and alerted us about the upcoming strike on Friday.  He showed us how to use the gate and pointed us in the direction of the bus stop right across the street.  Our first stop was the Colosseum and it only took us about 15 minutes on the bus.  After a wonderful day exploring the city, it felt even more like home that night when we had our private cooking lesson.  This is something that they can arrange for guests, in addition to special anniversary in room surprises, massages, and day tours.  They want to help you create your own unique experience.

One of three bathrooms

One of four bedrooms

The next day we were stranded by a transportation strike.  One of the other Appia Antica Resort staff members tried to call us a cab, and there wasn't one to be found, but Alessandro saved the day taking us into the city himself.  The trains were to be up and running after five so we were able to make our way back on our own.  We headed into the office for local restaurant recommendations and they even made the reservation for us.  All we had to do was walk down the street and show up.

These 3 doors are the three apartments, with the 4th located down the stairs on the path to the right

cobblestones are amazing and all, but on a walk this long sometimes it was easier to stick to the path

One of the neighborhood homes

The previous day on the drive into town, I saw the sign for Catacombs of St. Callixtus, and decided on the spot I wanted to go.  It was within walking distance, but Alessandro was available to drop us off.  He walked us to the ticket counter where we bought our tickets and that would be the last time we saw him because it was our last day.  Can you tell, I really liked Alessandro?  He was so friendly, so helpful, and so quintessentially Italian.  Surely, he was just being himself, but I found it so charming the way he pointed things out and here, came out 'ere with his Italian accent.  After touring the catacombs we had the opportunity to walk through the surrounding area and get a look at the neighborhood.   We spent the other two days in the city, which is very populated, and has a lot of traffic, and it was really nice to have a chance to see this side of Rome.

They arranged private transportation to and from the airport for our arrival and departure.   The arrival transport was arranged at the time of booking, and they set up our ride back the day before we left.  One less thing that we had to worry about.  When we left, we were given this adorable little travel notebook as a parting gift.

We missed out on nothing by not staying right inside Rome.  Appia Antica Resort is a very special place and getting to stay there only enhanced our entire experience in Rome.

 
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