La Dolce Vita–Italian sojourn

 

Ah, Roma! This post–part travelogue, photo essay, and trip guide–focuses solely on this fascinating city.   It shifts from photos to essay, and back again.  I start with shots of major sights, move on to the fascinating neighborhood of Trastevere, share thoughts on Italian travel, return to photos of the Jewish ghetto, parks and green space, and then share more thoughts, this time on differences between Italy and America. Finally, I’ve included some of my favorite shots of water, fountains, flowers, windows and doors, and art.

Take your time, view what interests you, and leave the rest.  Hope you enjoy it!

When in Rome, do as…the good tourist does, right?

Prepare:

My true self? Voyeur (like all good writers), shutter bug, gazer into mirrored spaces. Readying myself to shoot great shots overseas. How does one describe a trip to Italy, especially your first? I could list where we went, what we saw, and who we met--the usual chronology. Or, I can post the images that resonate, and ramble about. Which is pretty much what we did--ramble, so much and so vigorously I lost 5-6 lbs, and that with delicious Italian food! (Let's not forget the gelato!)

See the big sights:

My favorite ancient Roman: Emperor Marcus Aurelius, author of the oft-quoted "Meditations". In Aurelius' day everyone who was anyone just had to have an equestrian portrait statue commissioned of himself. This is one of few that has survived, and what an example it is! Currently housed in the lovely Musei Capitolini, Rome.

The oculus of the Pantheon in Rome. How many millions have gazed at this and pondered the perfection of this two thousand year old structure? The Pantheon is one of a handful of must-sees in Rome that I wanted to return to immediately--it pulls one in, holds and excites one, in the way that only superbly designed architecture can.

The spacious and welcoming baroque Piazza Navona.  Built on the site of the ancient Stadium of Domitian:

 

Michelangelo's Piazza del Campidoglio and palazzo housing (part of) the Musei Capitolini. Elegant and powerful. Also the site of much ancient goings-on involving none bigger than Julius C.

No caption needed: the Colosseo of Rome. We did not go into the Colosseum--after reading about the carnage that took place in it, well, it was enough to view it from the outside, and, besides, there is so much else waiting to be seen!

St. Peter's square. I had been entrusted by friends with a message to deliver to the Pope, but he was nowhere to be seen. There were, however, thousands of visitors from around the globe, all in good spirits. As J and I had gotten seriously confused getting to the Vatican, we too felt we had arrived at the promised land...This was the first, but not last, place I got teary at in Italy. I expected that, knowing I'd be seeing sights and masterpieces I'd been exposed to for years, but the Vatican? Hmm...

J and Nicco, soaking it all up. A favorite shot. Musei Vaticani.

A favorite figure from Raphael's School of Athens, Musei Vaticani. Didn't our tour guide tell us this was a portrait of Michelangelo? That doesn't make much sense, but it seems she did. Took a two hour tour of the Vatican Museum--expensive, but worth it. Just make sure you get headphones that work!

Dome at St Peter's Basilica. Mass, complete with choir, was being conducted while we visited; I almost converted on the spot.

Present remains of the Temple of the Vestal Virgins, the Foro, Rome. I found these ruins of the many in the Forum especially graceful. The ancient Romans were not known for their grace...

The iconic Spanish Steps. I did not enjoy them--the area was spilling over with tourists, loud, hot, and not all that interesting. But, the route we took to get to them was, as was Keat's house adjacent. Evidently the place he, at the age of 25, died in. (Also saw Elizabeth Barrett Browning's house in Florence.)

Enough of the big sights. There are so many to see, study, and enjoy. One could easily live in Rome (not to mention Italy) for several years and not exhaust them.

But what a visitor must also do in Rome is visit the medieval neighborhood–still considered to be the ‘most Roman’ of the city’s neighborhoods–of Trastevere.  We really enjoyed Trastevere, and felt our stay there added depth and fun to our visit.  In part this was because our son was living there and he, good guide and Italian speaker that he has become, took us to his favorite restaurants and sights.  He also introduced us to the excellent and tiny American school in Trastevere, John Cabot University, and some of its teachers and students.

But Trastevere offers warmth, intensity, and authenticity to any traveler to Rome.  Just be ready for a bit of serious time travel, daredevil motorcyclists, ridiculously narrow cobblestone streets (lanes, alleys?), even narrower sidewalks, interesting ‘real’ residents during the day and at night, crowds of boisterous youth.

Narrow ribbons of convoluted streets open onto tiny piazzas every couple blocks, but despite this you will get lost.  You can count on that, and it is fun.  We even saw Italians get lost (cyclists from other areas of the city?), and one of our best walks in Trastevere took place as we wandered about in search of Taverna Trilussa (worth the effort, but a bit pricey).

The food is to die for, young lovers park on their scooters and behave as if they are secluded from prying eyes, laundry festoons some streets, and interesting aromas greet one often. Charm is in abundance, and fascinating sights pop up (as in all of Rome) at just about every corner.

Trastevere:

The heart of Trastervere: Piazza Santa Maria and chiasa Santa Maria. So civilized; how our American cities and towns could use piazzas.

More shots of Trastevere. The light was lovely, plants hung from windows and hooks, the buildings are painted warm Mediterranean colors, and graffiti is omnipresent.

Restaurant facade, Piazza Santa Maria

Looks innocent enough, but we had no idea where we were when took this...

More twists and turns...

It IS hard to get used to the graffiti...

Visitors consulting...a map?

Love this color!

Enough images, for now.   Travel advice, gleaned from our experiences:

–Get lost! Not only will you be forced to interact (and practice your Italian) with locals, but you’ll have stories to tell when you get home.  If I’m not getting lost when traveling, I’m not taking enough risks.  Had J and I actually studied our guidebook and known when to get off the bus to the Vatican, we’d never have had the heart warming experience of being encircled not once, but twice, by friendly, gesticulating, older Italians on two separate busses–and managing to understand them, and to make ourselves understood.

Had we not meandered about Trastevere in search of our son’s apartment building, we’d never have encountered the white-haired elderly woman laden with groceries, dressed in pearls and elegant jacket well before noon, who also, despite her advanced age, managed to decipher our plight, and offer aid.

–Speak Italian! Having studied French and Spanish, I can attest it is more fun to use, and surprisingly easy to learn.  Slow down (Italians often speak slowly), enunciate, roll your R’s, and enjoy the sounds.  You will be appreciated, and understood!

–If you really want to travel dangerously (and save a few bucks), don’t buy a European cellphone.  Rely as we did on the kindness of others (we borrowed the cell of the young Latvian woman managing the office of our B & B as our room did not come with a promised telephone, thereby getting to know her better). Or, use the scarce but tricky public phones, and, if possible,  mooch off your kid (hey, we’re paying the bills).

And, had we had our own cell, we’d never have met the manager of our son’s apartment building–creatively convincing her (she spoke no English) that we were harmless, really were searching for our still sleeping offspring, and did not know which doorbell to ring.  More ‘real’ Italians to meet!

–Walk slowly. Italians, by our standards, stroll.  Especially in quieter neighborhoods and towns, they walk as if–to our eyes–they are meditating.  We figured this helped offset the stress induced by their mind-boggling driving habits!

–Sit and watch the world go by. Outdoor eating and drinking spaces abound. Spring for the table charge, gather a couple friends, and just sit.  Or sit alone.  But make sure you make time to relax with a cool drink, a glass of wine, and chill.  This appears to be a national pastime, a good one.

–Drive, if you absolutely must,  like you mean it. Italian driving is certifiably insane by our standards (and much of the non-Italian world).  Yes, they will–most of the time–stop if you step confidently into the road, but use commonsense:  Italians are alert drivers, but a driver can only stop so fast.  And, on weekend nights, we found drivers did NOT always stop–for much of anything.  If you are driving, be prepared to move, and keep moving.  The honking isn’t too bad, but other drivers will, if you hesitate, move around you without delay and in, shall we say, unexpected ways.

–Eat, drink, then eat some more. The food is delicious, healthy, and refreshing.   My favorite places were the elegant, small cafes with everything from full service bars to coffees and cold drinks to sweet rolls, breads, and panini.  And open early in the morning!  Another favorite was the ‘enoteca’, or wine bars, that carry large assortments of wines, sold by the bottle, glass, or even half glass, and delicious panini and other light foods.   Trattorias are fun, gelato is everywhere (and available in tiny servings),  and deli-like places serve a variety of foods.  And don’t forget the pizza!  The best we had was at a tiny place at the corner of Viale di Trastevere and Ceseare Pascarella in Trastevere–tasty, healthy, and like the little paper envelopes it’s typically served in.

As for wine, it is omnipresent, enjoyed at lunch, dinner, and inbetween, and inexpensive ‘house’ brands are often the best. We especially enjoyed any Castelli Romani red–light, dry, and delicious!

–On a darker note: watch out for pickpockets.  They are present, fast, and clever.  We almost fell prey to a group at notorious Termini Station.  Pickpockets, like all criminals, strike when you’re distracted, rushed, or confused (and who isn’t at some point when traveling?).  One distracts you, the other goes for your pocket or purse.  Lucky for us, the one attempting to yank the travel guitar I carried (we were heading for Florence, and our son wanted it along) was comically obvious, and the one who fumbled at my cross-body bag was clumsy.  I yelled at her and she, wide-eyed, fled.

I was shocked at how close I came to being victimized (although my money was not in the pocket she was diving for), and I was deeply bothered by being groped, if just ‘a little’.  It’s been a long time since I’ve felt so violated.

--Get off the beaten path. One of our favorite and most surprising destinations was the Jewish ghetto and synagogue. The neighborhood  today is small and intimate–a fascinating blend of disturbing history and modern vitality and warmth.  It also houses several good restaurants, and yielded some of my favorite photos.

Jewish ghetto and synagogue:

One of the doors to the Synagogue. Still an active congregation, although a fraction of its earlier size; the building closed just as we arrived Friday afternoon.

Front of Synagogue. Very imposing.

No caption needed!

More scenes of the area…Excavation of ruins was going on as we ate at a Kosher bakery; I found the blend of ancient and more recent construction fascinating.  Artichokes were in season, and featured on the menus of many restaurants.  The light was gorgeous and, unusual for Rome, the street was quiet.

The Jewish ghetto:

Ancient, less ancient, and decidedly modern...

Mangia! Mangia!

Home sweet home--for someone.

One of my favorite views...

Ominous date, and now the street's name...

Difficult to make out, but this l6th or l7th century church contains, below the oval fresco, a message in Hebrew to local Jewish residents, urging them to convert to Catholicism.

Oy.  Suffice to say, J, N, and I found this neighborhood fascinating, but also sad.

–Go green. Rome is not a very green city.  Water–drinking spigots, ancient fountains and the Tiber River, of course–is everywhere.  Greenery, as we in the upper Midwest know it in warmer months, is not.  But aside from the many flower pots and containers that adorn buildings and apartment balconies, Rome does possess several lovely and large parks and gardens.  We made it to two, and they were a delight.

Rome’s Botanic Gardens. Nestled down the street from John Cabot University in Trastevere, this garden contains significant palm and succulent collections, and provided us with an hour or so of appreciated shade, greenery, and quiet.  (Rome, for all its delights, is an intense, sometimes overwhelming city.)

Allee of palms...

Liked this...

Color!

Forgot who made this greenhouse, but it's gorgeous...

Are we in Rome, or San Francisco? Vegetation nearly identical...

Riposino...

Villa Borghese park: I’d gotten the impression from a guidebook that this park was a bit funky, worn, and crowded.  It was anything but.  We visited after a long afternoon of sightseeing and found it spacious, lush, and moist.  It was filled with families enjoying themselves, and offered an abundance of vistas, food, and things to do and see, not the least of which is Palazzo Borghese and its spectacular museum.

Weekend in the park with...

...J and Nicco. By the way, carry an umbrella with you in Rome in May--it was sprinkling with the sun out.

Palazzo Borghese. Cozy, no...?

Flowers & fountain--garden at Palazzo Borghese

More observations, these on some of the more subtle differences between Italians and Americans:

–American men:  take note. Italy has a way to go (what nation doesn’t?) in ending the war between the sexes, but Italian men win hands-down over Americans when it comes to everyday manners with women.  Maybe I just had encounters with courteous Italian men.  Maybe the fact that we were visitors helped.  Maybe our demeanor made a difference…

I don’t know, but  everywhere we traveled  (including Florence and Spoleto), I was charmed by the men.  They open doors.  They carry luggage.  They catch your eye quickly, and actually (appear to) listen to what you say.  They don’t appear to look ‘through’ you because you’re over 25.  They don’t walk into you on the sidewalk, or make you walk around them.  They call you signora without hesitation, and don’t make the word sound like the poor cousin of signorina.

When they walk with a woman who is obviously a girlfriend or wife they–regardless of age–walk with her, linking arms or hands, holding an elbow, keeping pace with her, and being attentive.  They appear very aware of women, and although there is plenty of looking going on, it did not feel as invasive as it does here.

Now I’m aware this might not be the case for a woman there half my age, but encounters looked pretty civilized to me compared to here…

And yes,  I did not feel the dreary sense of being invisible that women in America often experience in midlife.   If anything, I was taken aback at how noticed and seen I was.  I came home with the sense–faded now!–that midlife and attractive were not incompatible.

–Along the same vein, staring. Italians stare, look, and gaze at one another much more openly than Americans do.  It took getting used to, but whether a man or woman was doing the looking, it was typically done in such a neutral fashion that it was not disconcerting.  Now I find the averted gaze of Americans, especially in urban areas, somewhat odd.

–Clothes. Italians don’t put on clothes, they dress.  Not by a long shot was everyone slim, attractive, or in classy outfits.  But both men and women put effort into their clothes.  Jackets, sweaters, scarves, quality shoes and bags, and jewelry are the name of the game.  The layered look, even if  70 and sunny, rules.  Scarves are huge; I didn’t feel right without one, and they’re handy in the changeable weather.

Our tired uniform of tees and jeans was nearly non-existent.  Instead, a woman shop owner wore a navy sweater coat, nice shirt, coordinating scarf, slacks, and dressy boots.  An older Umbrian man who stopped to offer help with a language divide wore an elegant full suit on a Saturday afternoon (with coordinating scarf).  A young woman pedaling by on a modest bicycle was attired in fitted black jeans and a shiny black cropped jacket (patent leather or vinyl?).  Even the lumbering man I encountered in Florence, looking as if he had come into town from a local vineyard, wore a long flattering jean jacket over a plaid shirt, dark canvas pants, a jaunty cap and, naturally, a scarf (a bright yellow bandana).

–Health care. I can’t describe what health care policy is in Italy.  But on two separate occasions we needed medicine.  First, an inhaler for my son, later for me, something to quiet a nasty cough I, and apparently half of Italy, was suffering from.

Getting these meds (the inhaler only available by prescription in the US) was ridiculously easy and convenient.  We simply walked into a farmacia, explained as best we could to helpful pharmacists what we needed, and were handed–after discussion–what we needed.  The inhaler cost four euro (that’s around six bucks).   For my cough I was given, after discussion and instructions for use, a brown glass bottle of dextromethorphan.  For this we paid, again, something around four  euro.

The cough syrup was very helpful, unflavored and yucky tasting, reminding me of the stuff our parents gave us in the 60′s!  What struck us was the ease with which we–foreign visitors–could quickly get medical care, how relatively cheap the medicine was, and how we were neither bombarded by an array of different products, nor treated with suspicion.

Could America learn something from this, or what?!

–Cars. leave the SUV at home.  For that matter, leave the compact as well.  We were amazed to see how large ‘small’ cars like VW Beetles or Mini Coopers appear on streets in Rome.  And, in the tiny lanes and cobblestone streets of areas like Trastevere, full size cars look and handle like elephants.  Our obsession with bigness–big cars, big houses, big furniture, big bathrooms, big yards, big streets–is just that:  an obsession that most of the rest of the world  simply cannot relate to.  How did we come to be like this?

–Pace of life. Spoleto shut down mid-afternoon, dinner is not served anywhere until 19:30 at the earliest and can easily take two hours or more to complete, and many people seem to be out, walking and socializing about streets and piazzas, into late hours.  I’ve already mentioned that people don’t plow ahead down sidewalks; they stroll. How the country runs, we didn’t figure out, but it seems to run just fine.

–Values. My son and I agree–Italians appear to most value three things:  good food and drink, clothes, and time–especially time with friends and family.  Sounds good to me!

Finally, a few more favorite photos:  a bit of art (Dali!), ‘modern’ Trastervere, Keat’s house and water, windows, fountains and flowers.

The Tiber in evening light from Ponte Garibaldi, St Peter's in the distance.

Looking across the Tiber at Isola Tiberina, site of a modern hospital and ancient quarantines.

A favorite shot of the Tiber.

Threatening weather...Rome in May '10 was unusually rainy and cool.

Fountains! This at the Raphael-frescoed Villa Farnesina, Trastevere

Fountain Of The Tritons, located in the theatre of the Villa Corsini, Botanic Gardens, Trastevere

Koi pond, Botanic Gardens, Trastevere

Moi, on steps of fountain in Piazza Santa Maria, Trastevere

Poppies, the Forum.

Display of blooms, flower vendor, Trastevere street

Keat's house, adjacent to Spanish Steps

We stumbled upon a roomful of Dali paintings--wow!--at the Musei Vaticani on our way to the Sistine Chapel. The museum has four miles--can that be possible?--of galleries. Talk about 'Stendal's syndrome'...everyone, I would think, feels it here!

A glimpse of 'modern' Trastevere, not as interesting, perhaps, as the older section, but a comfortable and vibrant area that was home to Nicco for the semester.

Beautiful windows, and window displays! This pretty display in Piazza Navona.

Mystery in the Jewish neighborhood...

And this one, too...

Last, a warm and colorful display in Trastevere.

Arrivederci!

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