With a jaw tightly clenched, I determinedly maneuvered my wheeled luggage away from the subway car where moments before, a pickpocket had tried to help themselves to the contents of my purse. I was tired and my feet hurt so badly, all I wanted to do was sit down. The journey my daughter Tammie and I embarked on yesterday afternoon seemed to have no end.

I left the subway behind with relief and struggled up the stairway with my luggage to the city sidewalk. I had no idea what time of day it was. In Wisconsin it would be early Sunday morning. Here, in Rome, it was late Sunday afternoon. I spent two days enclosed in metal airplanes, train compartments, and crowded terminals. The minute I stepped out into the sunlight, I took a deep breath of fresh air and smiled.

Tammie found a bench and sat down, saying, “Let’s sit and rest for a while.” All too soon, my daughter stood up and ordered, “Follow me.”

Doing my best to guide my wheeled luggage over bumps, ridges on the sidewalks and the cobble stone street corners, I questioned, “How do you know where to go? You’ve never been here before.”

Wheeling her luggage along with little difficulty, Tammie confessed, “I’ve virtually walked the streets of this neighborhood several times recently, using Google Satellite to become familiar with it.”

Ridges on the sidewalk made my wheeled luggage almost tip. I complained, “The wheels on my suitcase are acting like the balky wheels on a shopping cart. Why do all the street corner sidewalks have these ridges?”

Sitting down to rest again, Tammie shared, “They’re there for the blind. If they use a cane, it lets them know they have come to a street corner.”

Moments later, we turned a corner and my daughter gestured toward a building on the far side of a large open square surrounded by large, old buildings all about seven stories tall. She announced, “There’s our apartment building.” I looked around and saw some grassy areas and trees, a life-sized statue of a man on a horse, a taxi stand, trolley tracks and several bus stops. Water was flowing from a public fountain. Along the streets bordering the area I saw no less than four sidewalk restaurants. Under the shade trees several homeless people lounged on the grass. One was giving another a loud, long-winded scolding.

The relief I felt was short-lived. Our next challenge was figuring out how to get into our apartment. At the locked door to the building, Tammie pulled out her phone, explaining, “The owner of the apartment sent me a message about how to unlock the doors.” Just then the door opened, and a man stepped out. We quickly stepped in.

Four marble steps in the entryway lead to the ground floor. Tammie said, “Our apartment is on the second floor, but here in Italy, they call it the first floor. The ground floor isn’t counted.” I followed her up a flight of steps where we found another locked door. Using her phone, Tammie managed to get it open after a few minutes. Inside that door was a small hallway with two apartment doors, one across from the other. Pointing to the door to the right, she said, “This one is ours.” The lock on this door was unlike anything we’d ever seen. Opening it required internet, and a secret code. One hour later, my daughter still hadn’t managed to open the door. She was entirely frustrated but kept coming up with new things to try.

Numb from the last thirty-three hours, I was of no help to her. I observed, “This hallway is a very secure place to stay.” I looked at the hard marble floor and considered laying down to take a nap. Needing Wi-Fi, Tammie went down to the La Soffitta Renovatio restaurant directly below to ask if she could use theirs, and they took pity on her.

When we finally stepped into the apartment, I was amazed at how lovely and spacious it was. It had a large entryway room with a desk and chair in it. Beyond that was a large kitchen with a dining table and a sofa. One doorway in the kitchen led to a large bedroom, and another doorway led to a small room with a laundry machine and drying rack. Beyond that was the bathroom which had a large shower and bathtub as well as a vanity, toilet, and bidet. Everything we could possibly need had been provided.

Tammie suggested, “We should have our first meal in Rome at La Soffitta Renovatio since they helped me!”

No longer having to drag my luggage everywhere I went, all my tiredness disappeared. I jumped to my feet and exclaimed, “Yes! Let’s go now. I’m hungry!”