Spuma Bionda, or translated as Blonde Foam has a special meaning to Cart. As a kid, he and his childhood friend would buy these as it was more economical than say, Coca cola at the time. I looked at him amusedly as he would describe how he and Fabrizio would drink this by the litres.

It tastes pretty nice too, as it reminds me a lot of Schweppes Cream Soda which I gulped a lot as a kid myself. Unfortunately, the Spuma Bionda is increasingly difficult to find – I’ve never seen it at all in the supermarkets that I’ve been to. Instead, Fabrizio found it by chance by going to a bar (In Italy, bars doesn’t mean that they sold only alcoholic drinks, you could get coffee, aperitivo, snacks, sandwiches and the likes here)

Somehow this reminds me of a few other drinks that I consumed in my childhood but is increasingly rarer to come across in Singapore.

Been a while since I’ve seen sinalco

Inside is a red bubbly fizzy drink which up to now, I’ve no idea what it was supposed to be. Cherry? Strawberry? But it sure was strangely addictive. Up to the point that my siblings and I would gulp it all down before my mum even had a chance to drink some. I felt so bad when I saw her crestfallen face when she opened the fridge. We were such monsters

And its been a while since I’ve seen Kickapoo

Despite its strange name, as well as the cannibalistic looking cover of the bottle, I love drinking this a lot. It tastes like a combination of lime, lemon and others, but it was sweet and not too gassy. If I had my way, I’d drink this by the bottles.

And for sure, I’ve yet to any ICEE since secondary school.

While I’ve seen these slushies a lot during my childhood days, but somewhere towards my tween years, it was gone.

All those memories.

I was really motived to go swimming when I saw a video of my friend Lynn and her babies having a swim on facebook. Growing up in sunny Singapore, we’d head to the pool every now and then. The prices at most was 2 Singapore dollars per entry in a public pool.

So imagine my shock and horror when I saw these prices for the public swimming pools in Rome.

• Aquafelix – 20 Euro
• All’ombra del colosseo – 18 Euro
• Hydromania – 18 Euro
• Circolo Valentini – 13 Euro
• Piscina Isola Verde – 8 Euro
• Piscina delle Rose – 7.50 Euro

The cheapest one is 7.50 Euro! 7.50!!! I’m not that cheapo but woaaahh … why so expensive one?!

I don’t want to go swimming anymore.

In the meanwhile I’m going to stay hot and sexeh that even the Italian ah-pek on the balcony want to stare at me.

I could probably blog about the awesome food that we ate, like the orgasmic tiramisu that we had in Genzano.

Or blog about the interesting places and monuments that we’ve seen while in and outside of Rome like when we were on the open bus.

Or I could be cheeky and make a post about how the three of us had fun in bed with Cart taking footage of the whole act

Or how hopelessly addicted ALL of us were to the internet

But because I am still very sore and upset that no one cared to leave a comment on my spectacularly awesome video blog post about Bevagna, that I used brain cells, hours and creativity to edit.

So hard to give comment is it? Will die one is it? Humph!

So I protest. I wont blog about our expeditions. At all!

(pauses and thinks)

Uh … eh?

Somehow we ended up in Testaccio which is not too far away from an old fireman station which I think is still functioning by the way. We weren’t very familiar with the place, but I was game to explore. Surely there must be a restaurant within walking distance. Moreoever I was wearing sensible, walking shoes

And thus, our traverse begins. We walked past a multitude of shops, some of them common, some interesting. We walked past a couple of people quarelling dramatically, past some tourists who wanted to head to Circo Massimo and your regular kepokians.

Like this alimentari shop. It was the horse made of cheese that caught my eye.

But after an hour and still no proper eating place, I was starting to feel hungry. And everyone knows that a hungry woman is an angry woman.

At length, we both raised our arms in the air in defeat and decided to go back to the car and make our way to a restaurant that we were familliar with. Like L’insalata Ricca or something. I was just about to open the door of the car when I noticed something.

What’s that? Is that a restaurant? I was feeling doubtful. Its so strange. If its a restaurant, why didn’t they put up a signboard?

But curiosity got the better of me and we walked closer and saw a menu and a large conglomeration of people sitting down, having a meal. So it IS a restaurant! We walked for about an hour fruitlessly finding a restaurant and turns out we parked RIGHT in front of one!

In any case, the name La Fraschetta di Mastro Giorgio and its actually a trattoria by the way. A trattoria is less formal than a restaurant and the service casual. Neverthless, it was a really lovely place. I admired the lovely courtyard outside all covered with grapevines. It was such a lovely shade of green, so relaxing to see. I could look out of the window all day.

And in the inside, its not too shabby either, everything looked very rustic, from the wooden furnishings and the barrels and such. With the grapevines, country style furnishings and all, I feel as if I’m really in the countryside, even when I’m in the middle of Rome city center!

Of course, with that being said, naturally, I started to camwhore and bother Cart by snapping loads of pictures of him too! Wahaha!

Hensem jugak laki aku

If you’re wondering why it looks quite empty inside, I suppose everyone prefers to dine in the courtyard. But its just as comfortable inside as it was air conditioned, what with having walked for an hour.

And since it was a trattoria, service was a little slow but its worth the wait as we found out, the food was as lovely as the place itself. While its non traditional, the pasta was really al dente and very tasty. Like my tonarelli with cozze.

There was pecorino cheese sprinkled lightly on it and I was a little surprised. There is an unwritten rule in Italy that you never add cheese to seafood pasta. But the salty pecorino cheese accompanied my tonarelli well.

While Cart had fettucine alla sorrentina.

While most places would be gentle with the basil, the sauce was generous here and I can totally detect and I love it tastes like. I love fresh pasta! And its wonderful when its freshly cooked.

For dessert I had the mint semifreddo with chocolate sauce. Semifreddo is something that I just discovered recently and I love it so much. Translated, it means half cold and it is usually made of whipped cream and you can use a variety of flavours like white chocolate, raspberries.

I had to savour this one slowly so that it doesn’t disappear before I knew it.

While Cart had a crostata with ricotta e visciole which is a type of cherry. Cart loved it. He said that it tasted very home made and was really pleased that the waiter gave him a large piece.

All of a sudden, Cart started to stare outside of the window, into the courtyard transfixed on something. And he asked me :

Cart : Hey! Look at that lady behind you. Doesn’t she look like someone you know?

I noticed a young woman in a blue dress winding and tying the straps of her purse on the chair.

Me : Who? She?

Cart : Oh come on, you know, the comedian playing Lara Croft

Me : Oh! Sabrina Impacciatore! Dont say guns! Say pistols! Freaking heck. You made me imagine an Uzi Bra. But anyway no, I dont think it looks like her.

Cart starts to whip out his phone and search on google mobile

Cart : See! Her nose is the same shape and the hairstyle is exactly the same.

The woman enters and we both hear her ask the waiter audibly where the bathroom was.

Me : It sounds like her. But I’m doubtful. Why would a celebrity eat here? Its wierd to have them to go to places that we regular people do.

Cart : Ok. I will.

*snaps a picture*

Doh!

I dont understand why head coach Marcello Lippi picked the better players only towards the end of the match. Why ah? Expensive is it? Indeed, the game only picked up at the point and the players fought with more soul then. But its just too late. All you Azzuri can pout and make that sad face for 100 years also wont change the results one.

And then the head coach says he’s is sorry and feels responsible and decides to resign.

Urgh! Lousy ah you people!

Because its a shared monetary currency between several countries, while the front is standard, the back of the coins have imprinted in them, special symbols of the different presenting Euro countries.

These coins below, for example, represent the Netherlands, the middle, Germany and the last one is Greece if I’m not wrong.

Cart collects the interesting ones sometimes and there are so much that it could nicely fill a jar. And I’m sorely tempted many a times to take them and use them to buy stuff for myself. Maybe I should

But its strange how I’ve been using euro coins for a year and a half, I’ve only noticed something about the coins now. If you looked at the side of the coins, you’ll see different type of marks on them.

This is the two Euro coin. It has a white border. I don’t understand most of the words printed on them, but I do see words like “God” and “Und Recht”

This is the one Euro coin. Similar to the two Euro but it has a gold border and without the words.

This is the 50 cents Euro. Its the colour of brass and has many dimples.

While the 20 cents Euro has very little dimples.

This is the 10 cents Euro. It looks similar to the 50 cents, but its smaller in size.

And finally, these are the bronzed coins of the 5, 2 and 1 cents Euro. They don’t have any dimples at all.

Interesting eh? What took me so long to notice this?!

Growing up in humid Singapore, the males in my family (like my dad, or my uncles when we come visiting) would always roam around the house sometimes topless, wearing nothing but a sarong tied around his waist.

That’s not my dad by the way :p

And they always had hairless chest. So apart from the Indian men and a few Malays, its not usual for me to see any hairy men. Hence, I used to think of them with disdain. But I sympathised with them though. It probably wouldn’t be too comfortable being in humid Singapore like that. I imagine that its like me keeping my hair super long and letting it down while I walk in the afternoon sun.

Like cousin itt

But Italians, as you know, majority of the men (some of the women too) suddenly turn hairy once they hit 30. I’m a little bit stunned the first time when I was with Cart’s male friends. Hypothetically, if I shaved all their body hair, combined it would be enough to make a nice toupee.

Interestingly, when I would ask Cart if he would consider shaving off his body hair, he’d look incredulous and ask me, “Why would I want to do that? It shows how masculine I am. I’m proud of my body hair”

After a while, I think that its not so bad, in fact, its actually rather nice to cuddle with a hairy man. Its like a huge teddy bear that you could hug and stroke.

Eventually I saw this and I thought to myself, hey! Hairy men aren’t so bad!

In fact, they look quite sexeh!

(sudden realisation)

Oh gosh, I am doomed. And my future hairy sons. And their sons. And their sons.