(a continuing chapter of our trip written by Maria Cheney)

After satisfying ourselves that our luggage was safe and sound, we decided to visit a church, the Basilica of San Clemente, located about two blocks from our hotel. The basilica contained some very fine mosaics that date back to the 13th century. Many parts of the church are under restoration but the mosaics could be seen in all their glory. The church was small, but quite lovely; its courtyard, rather dilapidated, hopefully, at some point, they’ll work on restoring this as well. We concluded our visit and walked back to the hotel where we grabbed a taxi to take us to a mall.

The conversation with this taxi driver was one of our most challenging because we weren’t sure how to say shopping center, or mall. Robert finally found it in his little phrase book: Centro Commerciale. We ended up close to the airport, far away from the city, in what turned out to be our most expensive cab ride. The mall had a very strange appearance, and didn’t look like any mall we ever saw. The place looked deserted, and from the outside, there were some store fronts that didn’t look very promising. We finally turned a corner and then it began to look like we were in the right place. We found a store called, auspiciously, “Scarpe e Scarpe” (Shoes & Shoes). Sure enough, it had a lot of shoes. Other things as well, such as exercise clothes, underwear, accessories . . .

And then the quest began. Barb tried on a lot of shoes, but nothing seemed to work, until finally she found a pair of lace-up sports shoes, rather fun looking, with metallic silver finishes, and best of all, she said they were very comfortable, except that one size was too tight on one foot, and the next size was too large on the other foot. Bob decided that the solution was to buy two pairs, one in each size. He paid for the shoes and Barb decided to wear her new shoes to walk around the mall. She took a dozen steps outside the store when she realized that the new shoes were killing her back. The shoes were too flat, and she realized then that she needed a little lift in the heel to ease pressure on her back. These shoes were not going to work, so we went back into the store to return them.

The store would not credit Robert’s credit card. They would only give him store credit. They said that if he had paid cash, they would be able to reimburse him, but because it was put on a credit card, their hands were tied. We asked for a manager, but none was around, and the sales clerks were determined to help Barb find another pair.

So, the quest was renewed. Barb tried so hard. She tried shoes, she tried slip-ons, she tried boots, shoe after shoe after shoe after shoe. Now several clerks were helping her. More shoes. Another clerk ran and got inserts. More shoes. Nothing was working. One of them suggested that maybe Bob should get a pair of shoes instead; Bob didn’t want to. And Barb kept trying – shoe after shoe after shoe after shoe. I could feel her frustration and her embarrassment. At one point we looked up and noticed that there were five sales clerks helping us. Bob wanted to take their picture but when he suggested it they scattered. More shoes. Finally, Barb found a pair of boots that, together with a double insert, sort of felt O.K., but they were less expensive than the previous purchase so she still needed to buy more things so make up the difference. So she also got a pair of slip-ons that she could wear at home, a pair of sunglasses and an umbrella. When it was all brought to the register, we were still ten cents shy of the full amount. None of us cared. We just wanted to be done, so the sales clerks figured out how to get around the difference and finished ringing us up and bagging the shoes.

I can only imagine how Barb felt, and I was frustrated for Barb, but I’m sorry to say that, not being at the center of the problem, I enjoyed the experience. I got to practice my Italian a lot that afternoon. I loved watching and listening to these ladies talk, laugh and try to communicate with us. The sales clerks were thoroughly delightful. They all tried so hard, and they really wanted Barb to find her shoes. They were funny and engaging and vivacious. Barb and the guys might remember the experience quite differently, but to me, that was a rare moment on the trip, where we suspended being tourists, and instead, became travelers.

Barb wore her new shoes the next day, but I don’t think they were really supporting her ankle, and for most of the trip she ended up wearing a pair of sandals that she brought from home.