Our pre-booked taxi was not there waiting for us so we wandered around wondering what our options were, then saw a man leap from a van that had lurched suddenly to a stop in the middle of the lane, ignoring all honks from exasperated drivers behind him as he leapt up the steps two at a time carrying a sign with four names on it, one of them ours. Big apologies about the delay but we were just happy to know we weren't stranded completely. On the way in (with a young couple, and a mother-daughter combo) we got a quick history of Rome and a drawn out diatribe on life in Rome since the euro became the currency (shortened version = not good, too expensive, no jobs) before dropping off the young couple at a tiny hotel on a graffitied street full of heavy construction vehicles and large piles of stones atesting to early morning activity. They did not look happy for two people who probably weren't in Rome to sleep anyhow. Wheeled past the Collosseum at breakneck pace then up the hill to drop off mother-daughter in a conventional 2 star place near the main train station.
Once it was just us and our driver, he relaxed, turned to us with happy, sparkly eyes, and said, "Where you stay is the best, you will be happy!"
We were.
Mind you, it took another 10 minutes to find it as we were dropped off at the square after the one we should have been dropped off at and of course didn't know better at the time. We found a building that looked a little like the one we saw on mapquest, located in the right part of the square and which had an address plate with the right number on it, but after climbing up and down swirling staircases we had to admit defeat and phone our friends to ask where they were. They asked the inevitable question of people who had no idea: "Where are you?" to whch we replied with the inevitable, useless reply "We don't know. We're in a square that has a statue in it. And a fountain.", trying to be helpful. However, in Rome, where every pocket of land remotely resembling a square contains both a statue and a fountain we were greeted with guffaws.
A few more helpful landmarks described later and we were there, seeing them on teh cobbled street with their cell phone attached to their ears as ours was to mine Bigs hugs on the street then up to our home for the week, on the top floor of a 18th century building in the Centro Storico, the old town.
The flat itself was large and airy, with simple white walls and big windows that looked at the Pantheon in one direction, the Vatican in another direction, towards Piazza Navona from the bathroom and, from one of the 2 patios, a large church covered in scaffolding that had been the original setting for the opera "Tosca". I tried to imagine her leaping from the parapet but my mind's eye kept seeing her getting caught on the scaffolding, which was a less than romantic image.
Dumped out stuff and headed out for most important beginning, our first meal. Porchetta, served in a ciabatta bun, and antipasti - peas and mushrooms, artichokes, and grilled zuccini at a stand up eatery/bakery called Roscioli near the Campo di Fiori.
Fortified we explored, taking in further refreshment as it was passed. Fantastic cappucino (it was almost noon, and cappucinos are considered touristy girlie drinks after 11am but we risked it today for the first one - besides, I am a tourist and I am a girl) at Caffe Sant’ Eustachio with their bright yellow packages of coffee piled up on the counter.
Then a quick dip in the Pantheon (there will be a most probing visit later) becuase I cannot even imagine not going into it while in its vicinity. A 2,000 year old marvel of architecture, so far ahead of its time that nations spent 1,000 years just trying to figure out how it was built in the first place.
It should not be possible this huge circle of stone without any pillars or other way to keep it up. The only piece of ancient Rome still pristine and complete. 
The answer is concrete, but early concrete, and formed in a very modern looking geometric pattern of squares, with that open circle of light at the top. Hadrian (of the wall) - (that's the stone barrier across the north of England not the pop album you morons) knew his construction.
I could have stayed there for ages, but my companions were more interested in our next port of call and pulled me out to go get ice cream at Gioletti, a 19th century jewelbox that seemed modern after the Pantheon. Two scoops each, six different flavours to try in total (we are big on sharing).
My personal favourite was cinnamon, which is a super food, so I reasoned that a huge dollop of cream and sugar had health benefits. Ask me again if I make it to 100 years. If I don't make it, well maybe life is for the living and you'll have your answer that way too.
We wandered around curving lanes on the hunt for Piazza Navona but without success as we hit the river across from the Castel Sant' Angelo. The cobbles made walking difficult and required attention so it was impossible to simultaneously track landmarks and street names and check them against the map. But seeing St. Peter's across the Tiber from the vantage point of a sensually arching bridge over the Tiber, birds darting overhead from leafless tree to leafless tree, all silhouetted black agains the ebbing afternoon light of the sort that has inspired painters since Italians discovered light in the first place, who really cared about maps? 
The other two were completely lost (despite one of them having lived here for a month already), but wanted to get on so that dinner preparations could be made so I led them back into the maze and followed my nose. That must sound ridiculous and pompous if not downright vain, but just about the only thing I'm really good at is finding my way, even in a place I don't know and maybe have never been before. Every once in a while I get it turned round 180 degrees and end up going in the exact opposite way, like I'm following a map that's upside down, but that's happened only twice to my memory. Really. Honestly. I tell you, I have an uncanny knack for finding the right way, a sort of inner compass. If it ever departs I know that my time is likely up and I might as well eitehr step out under a bus or book myself into a nursing home to wait out the last few days I have left.
So it was no real surprise when after about 3 minutes of zigging and zagging in a path resembling that of a bolt of lightning, we suddenly turned into Piazza Navona, then through it, out the other end, and to the shops to buy sausage and cheese and salad and wine for dinner to be eaten chez nous once the fourth of our party had finished work and we were all together to have that proper catch-up talk all friends who don't see each other often must do the first evening when all together again.
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