the perils of roller skating in rome

in the city of Potholes and cobbled streets, it takes one silly cow to hit the roads with her rollerblades.
that silly cow would me.
in a never-ending string of scooter badluck, i found myself mourning yet another two-wheeler. (no more i say, at least for a while).
AND with summer upon us..
AND the prospect of bikini/sarong wearing/baring imminent ...
AND my aformentioned plans to breakfast/snack/lunch/dine on gelo di anguria...

i am left, frankly, with no option but to put on those skates and just go with the flow. to the sounds of Brand New Key ("don't go too fast, but i go pretty far")

i emerged from my first day on the streets, unscathed and enboldened. it really isn't that bad. you catch some lovely views. work up a sweat. look like a total red-faced Plonker. knock down a few fat tourists. infuriate a coupla taxi drivers when you find yourself without a pavement and hopping on the road.

tomorrow am going to work on BREAKING more elegantly.. at present i look like i'm about to go to the loo. i feel i'm putting off innocent bystanders. wouldn't want to give them the wrong impression of the eternal city as one inhabited by constipated loonies let loose with wheels attached to their feet.