Welcome to Southern Lazio, Anagni

Full disclosure! I don’t believe in fake writing. If you’ve read my blogs for any amount of time you know I tell it like it is. So, when I was contacted by Vanessa of ItalyIndeed, I was a little leery. A group of people in the hospitality and tourism industry of Southern Lazio (southeast of Rome) are making a joint effort to increase awareness to this beautiful region. As part of this movement they volunteered to provide tours and experiences free or discounted to me. The goal was to reach my large following of travelers.

This occasionally happens to me. I’m always eager to participate, but if I don’t like what I experienced, I don’t write about it or I will say something simple. But this was more of a challenge. This would be an entire community sharing their pride in this region with me. No pressure, right?

It started with Vanessa Ianni, a local girl. Vanessa spent one year of her college studies in England and that was enough to fall in love with her husband. She, therefore speaks flawless English and about five other languages, as this was her major—languages. She recently started up her own tour company, Italyindeed.com. Vanessa contacted me through our mutual friend, Gianluca. I was sent an itinerary and maps to get an idea where we were going.

Vanessa picked us up in an Alfa Romeo because we were a small group, otherwise she uses a van. This was a very intense tour with fifteen destinations in three days. Because so many locals wanted to participate it was much more condensed than I recommend (though there are travelers who like to squeeze it all in).

Off to our first stop in Anagni (ah-non-yee). After our short time in Rome, I was pleasantly surprised with how lush the landscape is. Having been to Tuscany, I can honestly say Southern Lazio is equally beautiful. These foothills are dotted with pretty castle towns like Anagni. The war torn history only adds to the beauty and pride of this region.

The first inhabitants (the Hernici people) showed up in Anagni about 700 years before Christ (fossils date much further back than that, but these are the original city dwellers of Anagni). They rallied their tribal forces and fought the Roman Empire. They lost. Anagni became the vacation spot for Roman nobleman, than later residences of the popes. Actually this little hill town produced four popes. Beatrice Cretaro met us for a guided tour of the Santa Maria Cathedral of Anagni and the crypt. Standing out front I was struck by the simplicity of the church façade (especially after seeing the interior).

Inside we saw a lot of artifacts, but the most bizarre were two busts of popes. One contained the actual head of the pope and the other had the combo of two heads inside. They’re made of gold, silver and other metals, and studded with precious stones. 

We got to see the wooden sculpture of Christ with a little wooden tongue that could be mechanically drawn in and out of his mouth during processions. It was quite a high-tech hit with locals back then.

Then we went through the church (built over an ancient pagan shrine). The mosaic flooring is stunning here. Down we went to catch a glimpse of the original pagan shrine and then over to the crypt. 

I’ve never seen anything like this. The art work is so well preserved it defies logic. The paint (depicting the Bible, Popes, and scholars) looks almost fresh. Beatrice had to pry us out of there. She ended our tour standing in front of the pope’s residence/palace. We got a rundown on “Anagni’s Slap” during the “Outrage of Anagni.” A French regiment took the town and captured the pope. Sciarra Colonna slapped Pope Boniface VIII while being held captive. This led to the death of the pope (died of chagrin), excommunication of Anagni, and the subsequent decline from bustling little city to a village.

Trying to Get Home

The adventure of returning home started with waking up at 5:30am. We piled into the compact car and sped off to the airport for our flight back to Barcelona with a 4 hour layover. In Barcelona we learned that our flight was delayed by 4 hours (and it was a different carrier named Arik Air). 8 hours of down time! Barcelona’s airport isn’t very big or interesting. Thankfully we had access to the VIP lounge because we’d purchased those premium tickets. We had soft cushy couches and free food and beverages (well not free). We were content because we had no idea things were about to change.

We boarded our plane and promptly started playing with all of the buttons like children. Nothing worked, but it would once the plane took off. Or maybe not. Thirty minutes into the flight the controls for the seats suddenly came on to a round of applause from the passengers. It was short lived. The in-flight TV screens didn’t work. A stewardess came by with an Ipad for watching movies. It had 4 movies and Joe’s didn’t work at all.

An hour and a half into the flight the captain came on the speaker and informed us that he was turning around the plane and going back to Barcelona. We couldn’t go to Oakland. Why? Had there been an earthquake? He told us he’d be dumping fuel on the way so we could land, which is a creepy thing to watch.

The natives became restless. Rumours were flying. We landed back in Barcelona and had a Norwiegen rep tell us that the Oakland airport had explained to Arik Air that they are a small airport and would be closed by the time we arrived (recall the four hour delay). Somehow the pilot didn’t know this upon take-off. And why couldn’t we continue to LA (I’m assuming they have to use airports they’re contracted with)?

Next came the completely insane process of transporting and housing hundreds of people for the night. Not to mention the problem of getting a flight time for the plane to leave the next day. We, meaning all of us except the few smart ones who grabbed a taxi, trudged to the other end of the airport to find our assigned bus. We climbed on board and watched each bus take off, but not ours. Tempers were flaring (mine) after an hour sitting on a half full bus. Multiple people had gone outside to politely ask when we were leaving. I suddenly got up and marched to the front of the bus and got out to talk to the poor kid who was managing this disaster. I asked him how much longer and he gave me the wrong answer. I responded with maturity, “It’s two in the morning. We’re dying here!” He looked taken aback at this sudden attack from a Mom-person. When I got back on the bus, I was greeted with laughter and everyone wanting to know what I’d said. Apparently I could be clearly seen throwing my arms up in the air by the entire bus through the front window. The Schussman temper sadly on display. Izzy confided in me that I’m terrifying J

We were bused to a lovely little hotel called Las Balmes. I highly recommend it for their hospitality (especially the two startled guys at the front desk). We were led to our rooms at 3:30 in the morning. This was the most comfortable bed on our entire trip, or I was exhausted.

The next day we got a taxi back to the airport after confirming with the hotel manager that

Norwegian hadn’t scheduled a return flight. After several wrong windows, we found the representative who could tell us when our plane would be leaving. It wouldn’t be leaving. There was no plane for us to get into, we’re so sorry. We’d need to book a new flight. So sorry, but the Oakland flight is booked solid. So is tomorrow’s flight. Then they gave us the option to fly to Stockholm, Sweden and then to Oakland… the next day. We grabbed it. This time there would be no VIP lounge admission because our Stockholm tickets weren’t Premium… seriously? No problem, time flew by as we became excited about visiting Sweden for the first time, especially Stockholm (stop laughing… we didn’t know the airport wasn’t anywhere near the city).

Norwegian Air did a great job of taking care of our costs up front. We weren’t expected to keep receipts for reimbursements later. We had meal vouchers, the transportation was covered, and the rooms were reserved and paid for. As we flew over Sweden, I was struck by the vast openness of the forested land. They sent us to the Quality Inn. I was pleased because I knew what to expect… large rooms with two queen size beds, or maybe one bed, but we’d ask for one room with two beds (I’m so American). We didn’t want to be separated from Izzy. The lady said yes, the rooms had two beds. I asked if the beds were big. She shook her head and said no, but she’d put us in a larger room. So sweet.

Then a group of guys in the bar next to reception, one of whom was drunk, noticed us. As most of you know Joe always wears a cowboy hat when we travel. The drunk guy says, “Hey cowboy!” Really loud and slurred. After the third time I turned my “mom” glare on him. When I’m tired, hungry, and things aren’t going as planned, I have no patience for those kind of shenanigans! All I needed was for them to pick a fight with Joe. That would’ve been an unwise move on their part. The guy surprisingly spun around and didn’t say another word. Izzy told me again that I’m terrifying.

When we got there we had to eat quickly before the restaurant closed. Our vouchers got us an amazing plate of Carbonara and a glass of Chianti. We laughed at the irony of being in Sweden and eating one of the best plates of Italian food we’d had with an excellent glass of wine. Then we went up to our rooms and entered an Ikea display. It was thee smallest hotel room I’d ever seen! Ever. It had two skinny little cot-sized beds snuggled up side-by-side. Fortunately it had Murphy bunk beds. Izzy jumped up on the top one like an eight year old. The bathroom had a giant porthole into the room like on a ship. That way if you had to use the toilet at night the whole room would light up! Really?... whose idea was that? I stuffed a pillow into it.

It was almost midnight and still light out like in Alaska. I peeked out the window again at two in the morning and it was still twilight. Breakfast was in a spacious dining room, which was odd to me after seeing the bedrooms. Back to the airport. We’d gone by a jumbo jet out in a field the night before. Today I could see café tables and chairs on the wing. What the heck? I googled it and it’s called Jumbo Hostel. It has 27 rooms… the suite is in the cockpit. Now that’s recycling.

What a nice airport! The food is amazing here. We finally boarded the plane three days later and are still thanking our lucky stars that we got Premium on the way home from Stockholm. Izzy is sipping her last cup of wine as we fly over Greenland. Why do they call it Greenland?

Strange Stuff in Italy

There are a couple of cool things we discovered here in Rome. One was the cat ruins where Augustus Cesar was killed. It only takes up one little city block and is fenced off. You can stand at the edge and look down into the excavated ruins and look very carefully for the cats. They’re everywhere once you find one.

Another is the concept of car sharing. This isn’t what it sounds like. It’s a company called Enjoy. Apparently there are similar companies in the US, but I’d never heard of it. So one evening when the four of us were carless, Gianluca pulled out his phone and tapped his car-share app. It tells him what cars are nearby. He picked the car he wanted and we had 15 minutes to get to it. Once there he tapped a button and voila the Fiat unlocked. A voice came on that requested he look the car over and approve it. Then we climbed in and Gianluca picked the keys up from a hiding place and started the car. Unfortunately we were blocked in, but this didn’t stop Gianluca. He gently rolled forward and back and pushed the cars out of his way and we were off. The charge for the car is by the minute, so he was eager to get home. Once there we got out the voice reminded him to check for belongings. He did and shut the door. 15 seconds later it locked. And that was all. Isn’t that brilliant?

Did you know that for about two thousand years water has flowed into the city through aqueducts set at the perfect angle of 25 degrees? All of this water flows continuously into the city of Rome and explains why there’re fountains everywhere. But look more closely and you’ll see what looks like garden faucets left turned on with water flowing into a drain. To a Californian this looks almost sacrilegious. All of these have a down turned spout to fill your water bottles with. The water is delicious and cold. But here’s the extra info… on the spout is a little hole. If you plug the big opening with one hand it forces the water out of the smaller opening and becomes a drinking fountain! Naturally we first made fools of ourselves by cupping our hands and trying to drink the water until a local showed us how it done.

Not so cool things: there is an unspoken law in Italy regarding the proper consumption of cappuccino. We didn’t realize our social blunder until Egle gasped at a photo we’d taken of two cappuccinos and a beer. She asked in surprise, “Did Joe have a beer for breakfast?” Not that it is impossible knowing Joe, but I answered, “No, that was in the afternoon.” Her expression was even more comical as she explained that one never, ever orders a cappuccino in the afternoon. Gianluca joined the discussion and told about one time at a business conference he was asked by a colleague to order him a cappuccino when the server came by. Gianluca said no. He refused to do it because it’s not acceptable to drink milk with your coffee in the afternoon. The three of us thought this was hilarious, and later Izzy asked why anyone could care a less whether or not you put milk in your coffee? We enjoyed ordering cappuccinos in the afternoon much more after that.

Toilets seats or the lack thereof: seriously… Italy is having a shortage of toilet seats. I think we found maybe two on our entire trip that had a seat. The rest were just the bowl. Even nice places had no actual seat. You could see where it was originally attached at some point in time. So we thought maybe they should set up a Go-Fund-Me account to purchase seats for the country.

Apparently Italy is experiencing an economical crisis right now. Not as bad as the USA, because all of their debt is internally owned, but still it’s pretty bad. The main visually obvious sign of this is the terrible condition off the roads. Really terrible. Italians are already the most insane drivers I’ve ever seen, but add pot-hole dodging and you need to hang on as they whip back and forth across lanes. Driving there reminds me of a fast folk dance. It may seem like chaos to the outsider, but to them it’s all done like choreographed moves. And parking? Well that’s a skill I’ll never have. I think it’s something you begin to learn as a toddler in the back seat… or it’s genetic. Whenever I’m in Italy, I always think I want a little Smart Car or a Mini Cooper, but then I get back home amongst our giant cars and realize I’d be squashed like a bug.

The Colosseum

On our last day in Rome Gianluca scheduled a tour with a tour company called, “A Friend in Rome” for the Colosseum. This was on Izzy’s bucket list and we almost missed out because it was booked so far in advance. We got the best guide. Her name is Gioia. It’s pronounced Joy-ee. It was a private tour and lasted two and half hours. We started inside the Colosseum and immediately learned that it actually derived its name from a colossal statue that was at the entrance. 

She brought us to an arch and pointed to a mounded hill in front of us. Underneath the hill lies the golden palace of Nero… you know, the insane guy who burned part of the city to make room for his palace and private pool. He wasn’t exactly popular, so when he died they covered the palace with dirt and built an arena instead where the pool was. A farmer was working his property in the 15th century and fell through the roof.

Originally a giant 98ft bronze statue of Nero was out front (later melted down for weapons). It was called the Colossus, hence the name Colosseum. This ginormous place held 85k people. We heard about the atrocities we all know about and a new fact to me… in the first year or so its arena was filled with water for mock sea battles (remember the pool). Joy-ee guided us around the tour groups to shady spots and explained each vantage point. She even explained the giant movie screen being erected down where the gladiators fought. A showing of the movie Gladiator was planned in a couple of days and Russell Crowe was suppose to be there.

So, I know this is irreverent to the massive machoism of the gladiator, but Izzy and I got to giggling about how we don’t know anything about these men represented with giant statues except their looks. Maybe they had a really weird way of walking with their capes and skirts. Maybe they took super short steps or long ones. Maybe they wore makeup and died their hair purple. Maybe they had high-pitched voices. Who knows how they moved down the street? All we have are these big grey statues with giant thighs and broad foreheads to tell us their story.

Then we left and went across a clearing to the arch of some Roman dude and saw the victory over the Jewish people in Jerusalem combined with the victorious Cesar of the day with Nike at his back to show clearly who won. Then we went through the forum. This fascinated me because it was covered in two thousand years of dirt until 1929 when Mussolini ordered it excavated. The history behind it is amazing.

All of this had made us wonder about Paul and Peter’s imprisonment in Rome. We asked our guide if she knew where they’d been imprisoned. Yes, she did know and she took us directly to the spot. I was in awe. We finished our tour at the base of the “big white building” (Piazza Venezia). She called it the Wedding Cake. It’s a much later addition to the city (built in the mid 1400s) and considered a disgrace by the inhabitants because it destroyed so many ancient artifacts and buildings to place it there.

We climbed the Wedding Cake and took the obligatory photos and went in search of an Irish Pub. Joe was positive he knew where one was. After two hours of aimlessly walking in circles we gave up and headed towards the Metro, and tada!... we found one. Joe was so happy.

Back to Rome Again

Well disaster strikes in threes right? Our friend’s dog became ill. Egle’s daddy broke his arm, so what next? She sent me a photo of their shower while we were in Florence… completely gutted. They’d gotten a phone call from the condo below theirs telling them that water was dripping down from their place. So they had to let it dry and try to get workers willing to work on a national holiday weekend (the day Italy was unified). 

I quickly booked yet another Airbnb, this time next to the Colosseum. It was a weird place with the loudest bathroom I've ever seen and I didn’t like it, but it was close to the Metro. We went out to dinner at our favorite restaurant the Hosteria Gladiator.

The next morning we woke up bright and early because our place had shutters but we didn’t know that, so bright light. We naively exited our building and hooked a left to go to the Metro, and met with a wall of people. The biggest parade of the year on the road that was created for this specific purpose! Crud. We made a few forays into the crowd only to fall back. We tried going up back streets for several blocks in hopes of getting to the next metro stop in the line, which was also closed but we didn’t know that either. As we stood there perplexed a government guy took pity on us and flagged a taxi to the nearest Metro still open on this important day.

So back in Rome. We got settled back in our rooms, rested for awhile, and then headed out for the Appia Antica. The entrance we wanted to go in was closed and guarded by police. Gianluca jumped out of the car and jogged across the street to talk to them. He came back and turned the car towards the cops who magically parted. I asked in awe what he said to them. “I told them I had Americans in the car here to visit the Appia Antica, and they let me in,” he answered. This is a must visit for anyone who wants to escape the rat-race of Rome. It is so tranquil, especially the part that’s off limits to cars. 

These stones making up the original road date back 300+ years before Christ. I recommend stopping at one of the little café’s and having an espresso or later for an aperitivo (a happy hour drink). It’s a great way to people watch and relax.

Sunday we slept in… I mean really slept in. I woke up around 10:00! Then we hopped in Egle’s little car and went to the beach. You can go to the free beaches, but we (I) wanted a chaise lounge and umbrella. The beach was made up of dark sand so it burned the snot out of my feet. And the water was chilly, so we walked along the water line and admired the parade of Italians strutting their stuff. We needed the day at another happy-hour bar where they served free pizza. Joe and Gianluca were happy, but not us girls.

Monday it was back to work for them. We took the Metro to town to explore the Ghetto, the area we went to first when it was pouring down rain. We spent half our time hunting for an Irish Pub and the other half looking for a good gelato shop. I went into one little clothing shop and found a darling scarf (I’m addicted) and I tried to buy it, but the saleslady with multi-colored hair and piercings wasn’t willing to give me the one off of the mannequin… she even tried to get me to buy one off a different mannequin. It was amazing how much she clearly hated her job. I had something else I wanted to buy for 10E. She was so mad because I gave her a 50E bill. I was fascinated to see what she would do if I refused to go away. I stood chuckling in the street as she went from shop to shop looking for change. I have a twisted sense of humor.

By-the-way Monday was our thirtieth wedding anniversary. We had a nice little dinner planned for that night with friends from Sacramento. It was a little too much food, but I tried new things. I’d never had octopus before and it was tasty. I ordered the lamb and mushroom pasta dish… yum.

Florence

Florence…. We caught the Metro to Termini in Rome, walked through the underground shopping center, and took the Italo train to Florence. As soon as we exited the train station we went left up Nazionale, hooked a right on Chiara, left on Panicale and voila we were at the Red Moose. It was easy up until then. Unfortunately the gal who runs it had to finish drying the sheets… we had no way of knowing how long we’d have to wait because I never get data for my phone. A lot of people think I’m crazy, but I feel like I need a social media break when we’re out and about sight-seeing. Anyway she showed up and we got into the most adorable apartment. We even had a terrace.

Our first stop was the giant market for a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice and fruit/veggies/eggs for our room. If I’m going to enjoy the pizza, bread and pasta I need the balance. Florence is officially my favorite city in Italy now. Rome is too crowded and busy. Milan is beautiful, but it’s big and expensive. 

Florence is small enough to explore the entire city on foot and in fact is mostly off limits to cars. This is why I prefer to stay on the outskirts of the city… it’s difficult to get to the city center pulling luggage.

Our second stop was Grom. Grom Is my favorite gelato. It’s organic and they use a lot of strong flavors like real coffee from Guatemala and vanilla from Madagascar. As you face the front of the Duomo look to your right and you see the ambulances. As you face the ambulances look to the left and take that tiny street to the end. Grom is on the left corner.

All of the churches are free, including the Duomo. If you go during high season, like we did this time, you will have to wait a minimum of 45 minutes to get in. You have to pay to get up the tower next to the Duomo so I recommend going to the Palazzo Vecchio museum. It’s 14E to see the mansion and also to climb the tower which is 311 feet (95m) tall. You have a great view and you can view the Duomo! Plus it wasn’t a stairwell full of stinky-sweaty tourists. The Loggia next to the palace is a must see, but I recommend seeing it very early or at dusk. Otherwise it’s too crowded to get good photos.

Instead of going to the Academia to see the gorgeous David and all the other statues (which I recommend, but was too crowded for us) we hiked up to the Piazza Michelangelo to see the giant replica of David and the panorama of Florence. A lovely church is up there and if you remember a scarf for your bare shoulders you can pop in to breath in some cool calm energy before heading back down the hill.

The acoustics in Florence are amazing. Be sure to look for all of the local musicians and singers. They’re always good and a play a variety of stuff ranging from opera to rock-n-roll. I’m not sure why but we thought it was highly entertaining to watch the ambulances navigate these groups of people standing in the ancient cobblestone streets. The people would part like the seas, the musician would continue to play, the ambulance would pass with sirens blaring, and everyone would return to their spot in the road. No biggie.

We were wandering around trying to settle on a restaurant that appealed to all three of us when this cute young Italian guy lured us in to his restaurant by handing us wine and asking us to wait a few minutes for a table to become available. We grabbed the wine and waited. He entertained us by explaining that the language of love is an international language (which he apparently spoke very well). When we left he talked Izzy into giving him a hug. Afterwards she laughed and said she couldn’t imagine hugging an American guy that she didn’t even know.

On our last evening in Florence, as we were heading back from Grom, the church bells started ringing… and ringing… for at least ten minutes. A huge crowd was gathered in front of the Duomo. As we walked up, the doors opened and a procession of priests started coming out. A giant gold canopy came next, then more priests and guys dressed in green gowns. We had no idea what it was all about. A couple of ladies asked us if we spoke English. They then handed us a camera and asked us to take their photo with the procession behind them. They were wearing their pajamas they’d come out of their rooms so quickly. It was the celebration of Corpus Christi, and that’s what was under the gold canopy.

Well, back to Roma for the final leg of our trip.

Roma

Roma, a tumbling mass of humanity… It’s also a tumbling mass of antiquity. We were met at the airport by Gianluca and squished into a compact car. As soon as we got settled into their home, we were off for a walk to a nearby restaurant. Izzy and I shared a pizza. I learned from Egle’s plate that it’s possible to order food without bread or pasta. She had fish and a salad.

Wednesday we jumped on the metro and went to Circo Massimo. We wandered around and ended up at a fantastic theater called Teatro Marcello. Not only was it a great ancient Roman site, it had a nearby café with Panini and extremely good red wine which they poured into a paper cup for us. We just carried it over to a stone ledge and munched and sipped. I will tell you about this wine because it has stayed our (Izzy and me) favorite. We went back to this café again just for the wine. Then we went back again to buy a bottle. I have a feeling a bottle will return to California with me. We tried to find someplace with wifi… the pub’s didn’t work, the gelato shop’s didn’t work. We had a problem because Gianluca was meeting us downtown and we couldn’t connect with him. 

It was pouring down rain and we trudged up to the Colosseum past the big white building with the fancy statues… and suddenly the rain stopped and there was Gianluca! That was crazy good luck.

We left the next morning with a new tour company called Italy Indeed. The purpose of this tour was to write about it, bringing attention to the area south of Rome. Vanessa whisked us away in her Alpha Romeo for a three day whirlwind tour of this unknown area of Italy. It was such a spectacular area that I’m going to break it down over several blogs. There’s just no way to squeeze in all of our stops into one blog entry. Stay tuned for great unique places to visit, like Monte Cassino the abbey for the original Benedictine monks, or the 1.5 hour trail between two castles, or the truffle hunt with Spillo the truffle dog.

We returned to Rome to a change in plans. To make a long story short, their puppy (Duca) got very sick before we arrived and spent some time in the hospital. He’s much better now, but imagine his surprise when a house full of guests arrived on Saturday! Trying to keep him calm has been difficult… he’s so excited that he licks our legs compulsively. He sneaks under the table and looks up sweetly with his tooth sticking out (he’s an English Bulldog). Unfortunately Egle had to go to northern Italy to check up on her father… he broke his arm. So Gianluca did his best to entertain us while keeping Duca calm.

Sunday morning we took the metro to Circo Massimo. What we encountered was pure chaos. A major bicycle race was just getting ready to start. There were police everywhere… I mean everywhere; on foot, horseback, in cars, jeeps, helicopters, on rooftops… everywhere. 

We made it to Teatro Marcello for more wine of course. J In the spirit of Gladiators Izzy and I staged a mock battle over the paper cup. The bike race went right past us. We went past the big white building again and Izzy got dragged into a photo shoot with gladiators (they must’ve heard about her skills with the wine cup). We scurried back to the security of our house.

Monday was more of the same, but this time we needed to take the bus. Gianluca warned us that the bus times are more of a suggestion. We got out to the sidewalk five minutes before the bus was scheduled to arrive… an hour later it showed up. 

We tried to find some of the landmarks, like the Pantheon and the Trevi Fountain. We walked all the way to the Piazza Popolo. That was a disappointment. We had more fun going into every church that was open. We kept thin scarves in our purses so we could enter the churches because we were wearing tank-tops (not Joe of course). After eight hours of wandering around, we met our friend Veronica for dinner at a restaurant right in front of the Colosseum (We met her in the Bahamas, and she was the one we came to visit in Florence the first time here). We were exhausted, but felt triumphant that we learned the name of the big white building—Piazza Venezia. Fortunately we’d packed for our early trip to Florence, so we could just fall into bed.