It is easy to forget that the touristy part of Rome is quite compact. A person can walk across it, or from top to bottom, in perhaps a half hour, if hills are avoided and tourists don’t choke the sidewalks too much.

It was another wonderful day, temps in the 70s, mostly sun (an intense sun at times) and a bit of breeze. Not sure it could have been nicer.

Thus, we decided to stroll down the eastern bank of the Tiber and down to the bridge that took us over to the Circus Maximus (the movie Ben-Hur re-popularized, two millennia later), though there’s nothing there now aside from a long, grassy depression.

And then on to the Colosseum. Haven’t been inside since 1990; and maybe not since 1987. And the Romans have improved it, significantly, in the interim. My recollection is that the entry to the structure was on the west side; it now is over on the east, a good call because of the shade it affords people standing in line for tickets to get in, especially in July and August, when Rome is hot. (Twelve euros, about $15, for adults to enter.)

Audio guides are offered (though they can be confusing to follow), and I don’t recall that added touch, in the past. A generation ago, you walked in … and you were on your own unless you had a guide.

Now, you’ve got your audio device, and you can repeat what you hear to a second person, thus saving on a second 5 euro rental fee.

The Colosseum was the inspiration for every big sports venue that followed. It was built in the first century AD and is pushing 2,000 years old, and a lot of it is still standing, which is impressive.

Most of the floor was made of wood, which enabled it to be picked up and moved around. (Thus, in many ways, it was a theater-in-the-round almost as much as a sports venue.)

The two-thirds of the ground level still exposed … lead your eye into the warren of cells and tunnels (originally hidden beneath the floor) where gladiators and wild animals and prisoners were held before going up to provide entertainment, above.

The level of blood lust in the ancient Romans is impressive and more than a little disturbing. It seems the average citizen liked little better than to watch animals — and people — be killed. And the Colosseum was mostly about that. Maybe if they had monster trucks they would have diversified; instead, they slaughtered exotic animals, and executed criminals and brought out gladiators to fight to the death.

(The military historian Victor Davis Hanson has remarked that during the days or the Roman republic, in particular, hardly a summer fighting season passed without the legions going out intent on slaughtering their neighbors and dispossessing them of their property. I believe he called it “sociopathic”.)

It was crowded inside the bowl, today, but a place meant to seat about 50,000 can absorb a lot of people.

Also new (since 1990, anyway); two semi-interesting gift shops, and a stretch of museum-like displays of archaeological finds, like the skull of a bear killed in the arena.

Still worth seeing, and in some places you wonder if Rome’s Colosseum is all that much more decrepit than Los Angeles’s Coliseum, built nearly 1,900 years later.

The second event of note was our ability to ferret out a wretched supper in the city of Rome.

After days of wandering fairly far afield for meals, most of which went quite well, we decided to buy local, at a little place named Antica Osteria da Giovanni, that seemed inexpensive, maybe homey.

I had a roasted quarter-chicken with potatoes, and the chicken was small and greasy, and the wedge-type potatoes were burned black on one side and were practically floating in oil.

Leah had some issues with translations (and the proprietor was no help), and ended up with a plate of … sardines in red sauce.  Yes. Sardines in red sauce. And it was a secondo piatti, too.

I decided that we were eating what Romans ate during the latter stages of World War II. When people were starving.  And a small plte of sardines would have been dinner.

We had a two-thirds size bottle of white house wine. I managed to drink some it it, but Leah found it offensive (although we finished it).

Just a disaster on every level. Limited choices, poor execution, bad service and shouting from back in the kitchen. As the awful experience went on, I felt bad for taking up space in the resto, and perhaps luring other unsuspecting customers into the place.

At least it was cheap — 18 euros, or about $24. Though it was expensive, when weighing value (almost none) against expense.

So, we left dinner … to find dinner. Leah settled for two squares of very nice pizza, to the south, in the busy area of Trastevere, and some gelato soon after pretty much calmed us down.

To be fair, the restaurant has had some good reviews in Trip Advisor. It’s hard to imagine how that could have happened, if anyone was bold enough to buy anything but spaghetti.

The point being … if you don’t do your homework, get a bad translation and order poorly … it is in fact easy to get a horrible meal in Rome. We lived it.