A little piece of Rome

Pete's hometown was just minutes away from Nimes, the town that gave denim its name (de Nimes) and the home of the world's best-preserved Roman coliseum. Yes, the Arena of Nimes, built between 90-120 AD, trumps even the one in Rome, of which it is a smaller copy... at least in terms of preservation. So we just couldn't miss it. 

A bronze statue of a matador in front of the Arena gives an indication of Nimes' Spanish-flavoured heritage, and of what the Arena is used for these days. (I also saw banners advertising the Arena's summer concert series, featuring the likes of Akon, Chemical Brothers, Portishead, Santana and Sting.) Check out the detail on that matador.

Looks like bullfighting is a serious workout, if this statue is anything to go by. Talk about buns of steel... or bronze.

Speaking of big and juicy, our cheapest meal of the whole trip was care of a small kiosk just a few steps from the Arena. An enthusiastic Pete brought us to Chez Lucette for killer sandwiches that were not only less than half of what you'd pay for a sandwich here in Amsterdam...

... but were also spectacular in terms of value for money. Each sandwich was a full foot long. Marlon asked for frites with his merguez (lamb sausage) baguette, thinking they'd be served on the side. Non—the thick-cut fries went inside the sandwich. Mon Dieu!

Where was I? Oh, yes. The Arena.

One of the most impressive things about the Arena was how was were built to enable a smooth flow of human traffic, create an efficient seating system. With its ingenious organization of entrances, corridors and staircases, the general public (a.k.a. the jologs) could go straight up to their nosebleed seats from the outside.



This was done so that the nobility didn't have to mix with the rabble, and so the masa couldn't steal their seats and wreak havoc among the chi-chi crowd. What the Romans mastered in 90 AD, Filipinos still cannot do in the 21st century. Case in point: Araneta Coliseum, a coliseum to shame all coliseums.

Ironically, the cheap seats also offered the most spectacular vantage point. The richest Romans sat right up front at the bottom of the Arena. But to me, this was the best view. I personally would not have wanted to get splattered by blood and guts. But what do I know? I'm not ancient Roman nobility. I'm just a lowly unemployed bum freelancer.

(By the way, I was slightly relieved to find the center of the arena set up for a concert. If not, you can bet your shapely matador pwet that the hubby would have wanted to stage some kind of long-held gladiator fantasy photo-op down there!)

They say everything is better with friends. I agree! Dear kiddies, do you remember scrambling like mad for sponsors and living for months on a dollar allowance in the mere three-digit range? Who would have known we would someday be spending our own money to travel to Europe? #whenyouwishuponastar

The combi ticket also included a screening of the heroes of Nimes at La Maison Carree, just a few blocks away. We didn't have time for that...

But we did have time for our own mini Vanity Fair photo shoot.

If it can't pass for Vanity Fair, can we at least be a poster for "A Funny Thing Happened On The Way To The Forum"?