We were on the Roma Metro rail headed back up into town from an escapade at the Parco degli Acquedotti. (remnants of giant aquaducts, now made into a park) We had spent the day wandering in search of Roman aqueducts and this second grouping of the day proved to be a great find at the golden hour on a beautiful November afternoon.
The trip by Metro had taken us out to Quadaro. The stop at Grio Agricola was nearly 30 minutes out by Metro from Termini station and a nice long jaunt from our residence in Centro Storico. When we climbed up the staircase to the busy streets, I knew we had entered “real roma”. I have had a side conversation about how much I enjoyed this part of the trip because it felt like the most honest site and feel of Roma that we would encounter during this trip.
The streets were filled with people going to and front their normal days. The shops were not eerily familiar copycat shops like you see all over the tourist areas in central Roma. (After our return, I told my Uncle Joe that I look forward to getting outside of Disneyland Rome in future visits. A whole different post is coming on that!) The group all conceded that a rest break was needed after we had walked 10K steps getting to Aqua Claudia earlier. There was a big M symbol in the median between the city streets that indicated a McDonalds was close. That was the inspiration to make a detour from the park.
Along the way, we passed a cafe and it looked very inviting. We walked in and found a coffee bar decorated for Christmas. Fresh sandwiches were on display in a cold case underneath and a handful of tables were filled with patrons enjoying conversations and caffe. Aiden is not hard to bribe for a mid-afternoon coffee… So we saddled up to the bar, 5 euro in hand, and ordered “Due Caffe”,”Espresso”. The barista was quick to notice that we were from out of town. He asked us where we were from and after hearing “Illinois”, immediately started asking about the Chicago Bears and Bulls. When the conversation moved to baseball, I had to tell him that nobody likes the White Sox but Europeans. I swear, the White Sox get more play in Roma than the Cubs. It might be a South Side Chicago thing.
Our new friend told me to put my money away and pay when you are done. Again, researching and nerding out before the trip, I knew that the payment for coffee varies by venue and neighborhood. This non-touristy area operated differently than our normal stops in Roma.
It was a great experience. I marked the Caffe Carra on my Google Maps in hopes that maybe someday we will find our way back. If someone ends up at the giant aqueducts and needs a tip on where to eat or take a break, consider this your source.
https://maps.app.goo.gl/MiHA5uv7SBr9x29J6
The day had been a great exploration and as the sun was going down and the air was cooling… It felt like a perfect time to head back to the Metro station and make our way back to the “tourist district” for dinner.
We headed down the steps to the Metro, picked the right direction (because we don’t speak the language, we have to double-check which way we were headed!), and hopped on the train.
I had now fully climbed into a Hemmingway delusion of “this is honest” while we were outside of the city center. Honest is real. Honest is “better”. While looking around at the other passengers on the train I looked at their hair, clothing, and the bags they were holding and wondered what a day was like for someone who took public transit and lived on the outskirts of town. The next stop saw more people board the train. A tall skinny man hopped on and I was immediately struck by the artwork on his neck!
He stood inches taller than Aiden and even though he stood behind him, I had a clear shot of the ink on his adams apple. Having just been at the Vatican and reacquainted with the Sistine Chapel… The tattoo of God and Adam touching fingers on this man’s neck drew me in. Instead of Michelangelo’s artistic version… The hand of Adam was skeletal and added an air of sarcastic menace to the image. I then began to give this man the benefit of the doubt. 
Surely his life is filled with instant judgment and while it may be self-inflicted, he probably is a decent guy who, like us all, is just getting by in life and living with the decisions of his past.
A few platforms later, before our final destination, the tall, misunderstood, tattooed man got off at his stop.
Aiden looked at me and smiled… He then said something to me that I could not understand over the roar of the train. I was also standing and moved in closer to hear him. Aiden repeated, what he said, “I swear, if that guy touched my ass one more time looking for my wallet, I was going to stomp on his foot with my heal”. What?!?! The man that I imagined was a misunderstood member of society was the stereotypical pick-pocket in Rome that we have been warned about? I asked for clarity about the who and when. Aiden confirmed that our 6’6″ fellow metro passenger had been reaching into my son’s back pockets when the train was swaying and moving between stops. He didn’t get anything because we have all talked about this possibility while on the train.
This stung. I’m such an idiot. Never let your guard down.
The good news, we have been fully prepared for this. Weeks before we headed overseas, I had randomly watched a video on Youtube of a couple who were in line at the American Consulate in Rome, waiting to see someone about their stolen passports. We made mental notes of the situation and when we knew we would be on the train, all of us locked down our valuables.
Oh, and this event was not isolated, we had another incident with some young ladies who also tried us on during the trip out to the countryside earlier in the day. The pair of young ladies asked a question about the next stop, I would suppose they were sussing out what level of tourists we were. They stood close to Ang and me on the crowded train and I thought nothing of it. Angela was closest to them and she knew what they were up to. They were “handsy”. At one point, Angela looked one of the young ladies in the eyes and told her to stop reaching into her purse. There was nothing to take, but it was still disconcerting that these young people were brazen enough to reach into your purses or pockets looking for a quick buck.
Once we reached the next station stop… They got off. I’m sure their day was filled with riding the rails looking for easy targets.
After, and even during the incident with the young ladies… Other train passengers alerted us that those people were pick pockets. We let the “good” people know that we knew what they were up to and nothing was taken/stolen. Even though the results of these incidents turned out to be benign, I have had so many raised eyebrows and surprised looks when telling this story to friends after we got home.
Its far too common in Rome to have your wallet or valuables stolen if you are not paying attention. If you know that going in… You wont be a victim. Be prepared.