Train from Ostia, Vitinia Station
Train from Ostia, Vitinia Station
I had breakfast in the hostel this morning. How I regret my tiny stupidity in not bringing a cup! The hostel cups are quite horrid - well, I suppose that is too strong a word. Still, they are cheap plastic affairs, smelling, not matter how thoroughly washed, of the coffee and orange juice of a thousand previous bibitors. Oh, for my stoneware mug, which takes on fresh vitures in comparison to these wrteched things. Cooling tepid water, maintaining hot beverages at a palatable temperature, and with such capacity! But I was talking about was talking about breakfast. It was two rolls with butter and jam. Now, ordinarily I do not care for jam, but such is the power of being in character - in this case, the character of a hungry international student eager and grateful for and accustomed to such fare - that I ate it with great relish and without a second thought. Perhaps I can thus overcome all my food-dislikes.
The amount of food on which I can sustain myself without discomfort is surprisingly small - yesterday, I had a sandwich, a cup of cappucino, a gelato cone, and two small pastries with a bitter chocolate filling - and was perfectly satisfied at the end of the day.
Also, this is gelato and Italian pastry you’re talking about here.
June 10th, 2002 at 3:49 pm