Saturday Night at the Beehive

On Saturday we drove from Cuma to Rome where we all scattered for our ten-day Easter Break. I flew out on Sunday morning to head home, and I spent Saturday night at the Beehive Hotel with Sarabeth. We then went to the airport together on Sunday morning so I could catch my flight and she meet her parents. The Beehive is about two blocks from Termini, the central train station in Rome. We stayed in a dorm room with four bunk beds and eight beds. This was my first time staying in a co-ed room. Our room was full, though we did not meet everybody. I was surprised and impressed with how cordial everyone was with each other and how interested they were in everyone else’s travels. These are the types of conversations that I don’t think I would start in a dorm room in Rome, but our roommates were all very nice and I was happy to listen in and learn as Sarabeth told them about our trip. In our room was a veterinary student from New York. She is nearing graduation, and this trip was her celebration. She was really really excited about getting Italian pizza. On the bed above mine was a young woman, probably in her mid-30s, from Washington (the state). She was visiting Sicily with friends and then spending a few days in Rome before flying home. She is a product developer at Nike, and she was very proud of her Nike sneakers. My only complaint about her was her loud snoring right above me. We also roomed with a young man from Greece who was very interested in our travels there. The last person we met was a young German man. He was a bizarre character, and he certainly thought the same of Sarabeth and I. Sarabeth is loquacious, and she talks very fast. Despite his excellent English he did not understand her explanation of our trip. She kept repeating “study” and “vacation” and he protested “Study, vacation? Which one? You can’t do both!” He finally understood that we were on vacation from studying, and then he teased us for spending this Saturday night “vacation” so quietly in the hotel. He joked saying he hoped he wouldn’t make too much of a ruckus when he came back late. I was certainly unaware if he did.

For dinner, Sarabeth and I ate downstairs at the vegetarian restaurant in the Beehive. We each got vegetarian lasagna, and it was delicious. Our waitress also brought us toasted bread and sun dried tomato hummus. The restaurant seemed very progressive, and it seemed even more progressive when we asked for the check and our waitress told us that we pay what we feel we should pay. There was a card on our table with suggested prices, most with a $2 range, so we based our bill off of that.