Day 1: a concordance on the relationship between Vespas and Honey Badgers (Editors Note: The original text of this post has been altered in accordance with the Final Project Prerequisites as put forth by The Graham School, any blandness in content is purely the result of the author's inherent inability to write about the things he's actually required to write about. Apologies-Gabe)

Hello all, I feel that before I go any further, I should clarify a few things:
I like to travel, but I don't consider myself a traveller. I have virtually no experience doing anything travel related, but judging by my managing to pack 9 days worth of clothes, toiletries, books, etc into two carry-on bags, I'd say I've got either a brilliantly efficient mind for packing...or just a terrible, terrible memory, and those of you who know me are probably banking on the last one.
Having said that, there is something that should be noted about Italy, and many European countries for that matter, and that is Vespas. Yes, Vespas. Now, I know what you might be thinking: "but Gabe, those pint-sized British wannabe mopeds can barely build up enough force to tip a cow, not to mention their drivers are dominantly French." well, I can say with almost 100% certainty that all of those thoughts (with the exception of the last one...maybe) are completely false. Those wannabe mopeds burn serious rubber (or whatever those ultra light, ultra small cycle tires are made of). They will whizz right past you, and they might see you, they might hit you, but they will never stop. Like the infamous honey badger, Vespa don't give a s**t. Those dinky crotch rockets will flatten you into the soles of your converse all stars faster than you can say "ciao" and with less than half the effort.

The predator, top of the food chain, quietly relaxes in the sun, waiting for the work day to end before going on the prowl for fresh victims

 These things dodge in an out of the lane-less, unmarked streets like the ninjas (or incredibly annoying line ditchers in Starbucks) of the motorway. They will clip your car, knock off your mirror, and Hell, they might even hitch a ride on the back of your car for a few blocks. It's like it's these "motorists" (believe me, I use that term as loosely as possible) jobs to take basic traffic laws out back and do them like Old Yeller (which is to say painfully, quickly, and traumatically). Clearly the rules are either different, or just straight up don't apply to those pretentious assholes too cool to drive a car, or too sadistic to worry about striking blood-freezing fear into the hearts of poor, victimized pedestrians across Europe, or both.
Having said that, by the grace of god, I'm still alive, but it should be noted that Europeans can't drive...that's just a fact of life. But regardless, I've had fun, we visited the pantheon.

proof

So the interesting thing about the Pantheon (Pan=all, every, Theo=God, Pantheon=figure it out) is that, not only is it still standing (a miracle in it of itself), but, since being remodeled into a church, it still holds active services every week.  This serves a prime example of the amazing preservation of architecture found throughout Italy, but more specifically it's integration into the modern design, or vica versa, of the city.  Anyways, the Pantheon itself, a project headed by Marcus Agrippa, was, as the name states, a temple for all gods, hence the interior, which is decorated with statues of several major figures of Greek mythology, all in their own little corners of the giant building.  It was an amazing structure.

Gabe

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