Getting to Know the Eternal City

Ciao!
Let's start with my animal friends.  The place I live is very pretty and the rooms are set around a courtyard with a fountain--in the fountain live turtles!  Nice, eh?  On one side of road to and from the metro is a lush green hillside, which was today occupied by--well are they sheep or goats?  I asked, but I don't think the creatures speak English.  They were all shades of brown from beige to deep dark, which made me suspect the goatiness even though they looked like sheep.
I had a mixed day with some successes and some frustrations.  The major frustration is that the guidebook and the website misled me about the time of the English tour of Villa Medici, and a tour is the only way to visit.
I set out for the Piazza di Spagna because of the aforesaid Villa Medici, and also I knew it was a major tourist zone, so I hoped to find an atm of my bank's Italian partner in order to skip the pesky transaction fees.  I strolled down Via Condotti, the most elegant shopping street in Rome. I saw some very well dressed people, but most folks looked like me, and there were lots of tourists, especially on the Spanish Steps.  But seriously, amici, do we Really Need five different Chanel boutiques?  And the rest of the luxury brands had multiples, too.
From there I made my way down to Piazza del Populo where I strolled around and visited the church of Sta. Maria del Populo. Via Corso looked like a fun street and one likely to have atms, so I went down it.  I was about to give up when I spotted my bank! Whee! Until I couldn't get the wretched atm to work.  It recognized the foreign card and gave me instructions in English, but one of the instructions said push the "confirma" button, and there was so such thing.  At the atm next to mine was a nice looking older woman, so I asked her for help.  She spoke a little English, too, and carefully walked me through the steps.  It turns out that there is no confirma button, and I needed to push another one altogether.  I got my cash.  I find people are willing to help out foreigners who are humble and show no attitude.
I climbed the steep Pincian Hill (One of Seven).  Huff puff, and then I walked through the lovely park atop it.  I enjoyed some spectacular views of Rome. By the way I'm taking lots of photos, but my camera won't talk to my phone, so you'll have to wait.
It was after this that I suffered my disappointment at the Villa Medici.  What to do?  I decided to go to the main train station where the bus station also sits.  There was a sign that said: "If you want to go to these destinations, take this bus."  I believed it and got on a bus.  It turned out the way my bus rides usually do. Sigh.
But I did get to see some of the city, and we passed some cool sights--just not the one I wanted.  Realizing this I got off on my side of the Tiber.  Now what?  I still wanted to see things.
Then I spotted it.  A sign for something I Really Wanted to See. The Villa Farnesina belonged to banker-to-the-popes Augustino Chigi (pronounced Kigi), who was also pals with Raphael.  He commissioned Raphael to decorate his Tiber-side palazzo, and the results are spectacular. The most famous is the Galatea fresco, but the whole building is amazing and simply screams Renaissance.  I especially love Galatea because she is beautiful, has muscles, and her hair is brown.  Brown hair on a beauty is so rare in art.  I take this personally.
So I was happy until I finished the visit and realized I was in the middle of nowhere with no transportation.  I walked back to look for a metro stop.  I fetched up at the Vatican, and I knew that a stop on my line served it.  The place was packed, and at first I did not recognize St. Peter's Piazza because it looks completely different from the ground view, and I have only seen aerial shots.  It was still a long, long walk to the metro.
Since it's a warm evening we are having aperiticena--in other words an aperitivo with extra food for dinner.  Although beloved by tourists and students, this development is frowned upon by traditionalists who hold that it degrades the art of the aperitif and violates the sacredness of the evening meal.  On my plate are olives, nuts, and crostini spread with ricotta dressed with parmesan, garlic, and olive oil, all washed down with cool white wine.  It suits me.