The day we waited in line for 45 minutes so we could look at a broken manhole cover, followed by the day we left Rome with half the family sick

Saturday the 10th was our last day in Rome, so on that day we decided to visit all the attractions we would like  to see, but hadn't been able to. First we walked through Trastevere to the churches of Santa Maria and Santa Cecilia. Trastevere was beautiful, with no tourists, cobbled streets, fountains, and beautiful houses. A cellist played Bach in the square. We visited an elderly couple's shop where  they made puppets by hand, and bought a couple for Lydia. Everyone there seemed so friendly, and of course the churches were very beautiful.

Santa Cecilia in Trastevere

After visiting the two churches, we walked over the Tiber to visit the Mouth of Truth, a glorified Roman manhole cover, carved to resemble a face, that was supposed to bite you if you lied while holding your hand in its gaping mouth. We only did it because that was the one thing Lydia wanted to see in Rome, and we didn't want to disappoint her, but we had not anticipated how ridiculously long the line was. Hundreds of people had travelled here to lie and discover (surprise, surprise) that the manhole cover was an inanimate object, and could not possibly bite your hand, let alone tell the difference between a lie or the truth. Eventually we reached the object, let Lydia put her hand inside and then hurried away for Lunch. I strongly do not recommend this tourist attraction for anyone.

Lydia at the Mouth of Truth

After lunch, we walked to the Pantheon and the church of San Luigi, not spending much time in each, as Dad and Elsie were both feeling unwell. We had gelato at the Piazza Navona, and quickly walked back to our apartment, just in time for Dad, Elsie, and Lydia to start vomiting. Getting packed up in time was a nightmare, but we managed, and after a stressful sleep, we made it onto the plane.

Arriving in England again after 4 years was surreal, I had missed the country so much, and was ecstatic to be part of it again. I recognised all the birds that flew past as we drove up the highway, and every tree looked familiar, despite my never having been on that particular road before. We arrived at a youth hostel in York at 4:15, and got ready for our first night in Britain in 4 years.