It has been quite an eventful couple of days!  As I sit at the Colosseum typing and reflecting, people give me curious looks.  Do I care right now? Not at all.  Why?  Let me explain. The story begins a few days ago, with Kelvin hungry, lost, smelly, and effectively homeless on a train going somewhere he did not know.  I got off at Garrista, or somewhere with a similar name, but because it was urban and had no beach, I took another train to Civitavecchia (I planned to confirm the exact names later).  I got off, found the beach, and was immersed among locals.  By this stage of the trip, I could rarely go anywhere without hearing English, but for about 15 hours I heard none at all.   I bought some food and sat in what appeared to be the town’s fashionable area, a beachfront community seemingly built in part around industrial manufacturing.  Eventually, I made my way to the beach, curled up on a pile of rocks in my sleeping bag, and fell asleep.  Concerned about my safety, I did not sleep particularly well, but morning eventually came.  I jumped on another train to Rome and, after arriving, headed to the Beehive near the station.  But wait: it had moved.  I went to its new location on the other side of the station, but it was full.  The staff suggested a few alternatives, and I stopped at one advertising free internet. Promising, but it was also full.  I tried another place that seemed less likely, though after sleeping on a beach I was not especially picky.  An American man there told me that the hostel was full, but another property owned by the same people had space.  I went there, once again on the other side of the station, and checked in.  I dropped off my bag and immediately headed to the Vatican.  The metro system was not nearly as pleasant as Barcelona’s, but it got me there.  I bought a little food and toured several churches around the Vatican.  I had no money left for admission, but I still enjoyed myself. Being young and energetic, I walked through much of the city and reached the Pantheon, which was extraordinary.  I met a woman from Malta, and we talked for a while. She spoke some Maltese to me and used my map to show me where Malta was.  How many people have had Maltese spoken to them?  Good times.  A tour group has now gathered around me, perhaps amused by the sight of someone typing at the Colosseum.  Enough of that!  After the Pantheon, I wandered back to the hostel and arrived around 6:30pm, just as food was being served.  Pizza for everyone, and plenty of people to meet.  This was where I started making friends.  I met several people in my room and organised all but one of them to join a pub crawl. Two English women and then two English men also came along.  I was the only American.  The crawl included a tour, drinks, and a late-night stumble home.  George and Louis were there, and I snogged George (the word still sounds funny).  She was very cool, so all was well.    I woke, ate breakfast, met two Mexican women and another Australian, and went to the Colosseum with BJ.  It is extraordinary here, but I am only halfway through exploring. For now, I bid farewell. Adios!