Uli: Friday AUGUST 07, 2015. NOT 'GRUMPY IN ROME'

The following is THE OFFICIAL BLOG for August 07, 2015. (All other postings for this date are imposters and are to be disregarded)(all apologies for the annoying fact that all italics and formatting are eliminated upon uploading the post) As this is my first official blog post, I've been given some rules to follow by the blogmaster. Apparently I'm not allowed to use the following words : << edited by Blogmaster >> or the following phrases : << edited by Blogmaster >> or mention the following topics : << some content removed by Blogmaster >> So here goes... It was a f-abulously hot day again in Ostia, and again not a cloud in the sky. We got to the pool for solo preliminaries by 10:00-ish. Our apartment room is pleasant and relatively quiet located in an unassuming building, which can masquerade as some others, in an unassuming neighbourhood in this resort-y kind of town. It is conveniently located between two train stations and is a 15 minute walk to the beachfront. The only major issue in this apartment is the plumbing, or more specifically the odours most foul that emanate from the shower drain. My intimate and detailed knowledge of the problem hardens back to the fact that in the fine print associated with my marital vows (rather like the gems discovered long after the passage of government Omnibus Bills) was a clause ascribing to me the title of "Manager of Gross Duties and Disgusting Tasks" ( Article 975 section 7 subsection cxxxvii : your mission, should you choose to accept it, and you will, (according to Articles 7 through 15, 19 and 37-5-vii, and subject to, but not limited to, the 'Regulations Governing Refusal' Article 2 and Appendix 1, as well as the 'List of Possible Gratitudes' Appendix 2 and standard 'Veto Clauses' Appendix 3) shall be defined by... << some content removed by Blogmaster >>.... etc etc etc. it's all the standard clauses as in your own vows...the original clauses actually date back to before ancient Roman times as it turns out....I'm sure I read that somewhere) My task was to 'fix this'... which meant cleaning the detritus/ hair catcher to see if this would remedy the issue. Degunking and de-sliming this ingenious little device was not the solution, owing to the small 1.5 inch drain pipe leaving the drain contraption laterally, and quite obviously in its retro-fitted-let's-just-convert-this-room-into-a-guest-suite-with-an-ensuite-bathroom kind of way without ANY room for a proper u-trap. Now, in general I do admire the European ingenuity at devising, designing and manufacturing efficient solutions to extract maximum utility out of the small real estate they have, or can afford to have ( making most of our homes in North America look downright opulent in comparison), but suffice it to say that this shower drain design is not worthy of the Pantheon of Brilliance. The smell indeed was from the bowels of the earth, and more specifically from the bowels of all Ostia upstream from this building's sewer connection. The odour production seemed to correlate to the outdoor temperature, and 30 degrees C seemed to be the "Equivalence Point" measured in the fan's limited cfm (cubic feet per minute). At this point of equilibrium the phrase "It doesn't seem to smell that bad" converts like litmus paper to "for the love of....<< edited by Blogmaster >> ... What in God's green earth is that?". The only solution was to keep the bathroom fan on ALL the time... And pray.... Also, in my sleuthing I discovered there to be to be an odd and curious fountain in the bathroom next to the toilet that is fairly low to the ground, but the water tastes like << edited by Blogmaster >>, but not the source of our conundrum. Where was I... Oh right! We made it to the pool for 10-ish and the Solo Preliminaries. We joined the exuberant Great Canadian Delegation in he stands, who were in full Canadian colours and prepared with flags, Pom poms and parasols to do battle in the stands. We cheered loudly for Cassie and her strong finish in a field of strong competitors. The sun, even at this time of day was scorching... After the solos were done, we were able to visit with Signa and deliver a bounty of fruits for the team. Other parents had also rallied to bring in a few bags of food supplies. A paucity of protein availability to our athletes was now identified as a problem. A plan was conceived and hatched to procure a dinner from an outside restaurant that day, and when the call for the protein to be steak was heard, Patricia vowed to hunt all over Ostia, all day if required. So we set off in the heat as we walked down "Beach Street", which actually grew longer and longer and longer with each passing moment and each successively more difficult step. Our bodies losing copious sweat in a vain effort to keep us cool, and we were near the point of COLLAPSE!!!! (It's my story and I get to embellish exaggerate and outright fabricate any details I wish- it's in my vows (Article 1058 Sec. 2-7 although subject to Appendix 3)) (Seriously, bending over to tie your shoe at 40+ degree heat is more than MAJOR hot yoga) We crawled to 'Centre Street' (in Toronto equivalent speak I am referring to the intersection in Ostia known as 'Bloor and Yonge') when like a mirage rising from the desert we found the 'Wild West Steak House'. If there was no steak here, then it would not be found anywhere... By a stroke of good fortune indeed, we found that steak WAS on the menu. This was no mirage of wishful thinking. Our search was complete. It took some time to cool off, aided by the consumption of plenty of ice cold water. We enjoyed an excellent lunch at this oasis of beef, and then Patricia arranged the 14 steak and 1 chicken dinner with salads to be picked up for 5 pm...by which I actually mean 7 pm, because this is Rome, and here the Romans have siesta from 3-7 pm. Now: 2 pm. A free afternoon. What to do? Should we go back to Rome? Should we see the ruins at Ostia Antica? Should we just park ourselves on the beach? Each option was carefully weighed against the oppressive heat that was 'officially' 36 degrees, but was more certainly closer to 40 degrees, or maybe even more, judging by the copious sweat we were generating. And still no sign of a cloud in the sky, and also no breeze to delude us into believing things might just be a little cooler. Ostia Antica was voted as a option for tomorrow. Central Rome would mean trains and subways all cooking in this heat to produce what can affectionately called the 'stench of humanity' - a sharp bite of armpit with a strong and lingering note of body odour. The odour might be related to either the popularity of the 'Mike Wozowski' collection of fine designer scents ( which now include such famous titles as 'Low Tide', 'Garbage Dumpster', and now...'Roma Capitale') OR just a critical shortage of (alternatively, a staunch philosophical opposition to the use of) soap, basic hygiene products and deodorant. Then again, at the end of the day.... we ALL smell like Rome. The girls decided to beach it so we set them up at a appealing private beach with large colourful sun umbrellas and the beach lounge chairs. Anne Marie and I decided ... 'When in Rome' .... And we decided to siesta. Air conditioned room. Fresh cool shower (with a valiant fan trying its best). Cold Proseco in the fridge. Siesta. La Dolce Vita. Reprieve from the heat. After collecting the girls from the beach (where they did splash in the algae filled sea made possible by the nutrients added to the Tiber in Rome) and procuring some peanut butter ( WAYYY less popular here than in North America, where we even just affectionately shorten it's name to 'PB') and Nutella (for morning protein) to be added to the care package today, we met with Patricia, Dan and Hollie and Eileen and Ian for the 7pm steak showdown. All the meals were ready to go as promised, and a bonus of real cutlery was provided ( real steak needs real cutlery). Eileen and Ian did the delivery to the team. We enjoyed a great dinner at the Aran Blu hotel restaurant with Patricia, Hollie and Dan. After dinner we discovered that an actual rain shower left some puddles for us to navigate on our way home. It was approaching midnight and the town was bustling. The beachfront bars and nightclubs were alive, the library tent at he beach was open and busy, and we finished the day with the only way it should be finished....with GELATO. And now that I'm finished my blog entry as well, I will celebrate with a drinking box size of tetra-packed 'Vino Blanco'... Conveniently packaged to put into any lunch and yet sufficient to decrease any measure of afternoon productivity. Finito "Dadam Levine"