I'm up early, sitting in front of the relatively deserted Trevi Fountain as pigeons wander around peking between the smooth black cobblestones in search of breakfast. The sound of the few tourists here and the carabinieri drowned out by the crashing water in front of me. I think this may be my favorite spot in Rome. It's a lovely place to begin another year.
I've waited until today to toss my coin into the pool of water here, the coin that will ensure my return. I've thought about what to wish for. For my book to be a success. Luck in love. A family. A long life. Thinking about what I desire reminds me of how grateful I am for what I have. Wonderful friends and family. A good job. My own home. Enough money to spend a month in Italy. There isn't much I need, and so as I pull the coin from the pocket of my jeans, swing my arm forward and open my hand as the coin arcs through the air and disappears into the water without a sound, what I wish for is much more basic. More simple.
I wish for happiness.
Today we pack up to embark on the part of the trip that I have most been looking forward to -- Tuscany. I want to drive aimlessly through the Italian countryside with no particular destination in mind. To hike the Cinque Terre. To drink wine and watch the sunset. To have real conversations.
We start today with more flurry of activity, making a run to the shipping office, gathering our bags for the train ride to Chiusi. Picking up the car. But then it will be more relaxed. Two nights in Montepulciano, three in Chiante de Greve, and three in Levanto along the Italian Riviera. An apartment. A stone house. A bed and breakfast. Our days will slow. I'll sleep late... siesta properly, as the Italians do, and stroll in the evenings. No rushing from here to there. Nowhere we have to be at any certain time.
I suppose in a way, my wish will have already come true. I can think of nothing that would bring me more happiness than embracing the Italian art of how sweet it is to do nothing... “il dolce far niete."
Wish me luck.
Saturday, September 17, 2011
Friday, September 16, 2011
Running through Rome, and piles of old bones...
I've discovered something new this morning. Italians don't get up early. Tourists really don't either. I went running past Trevi Fountain and the Pantheon this morning and literally had them all to myself. I stretched while staring at all the curves and features of Trevi, and again while walking under the portico of the Pantheon, using the smooth marble columns for support. There were quite a few men making their way to work or opening shops and I think I could have paid for a really nice dinner had I just charged for ogling. I would say it was my Vibrams, but I'm wearing those on my feet. They were staring about four feet higher.
I also discovered that the mosquitoes in Rome like American, too. Unfortunately, they like the taste of mom better.
We hit the Vatican today, which as we learn from our fabulous guide (who just happened to be from Orlando, confirming my fears that this is actually owned and operated by Disney), that we are actually standing in another country. However, it's the Sistine Chapel that holds the biggest surprise for me. The most famous portion of the ceiling that Michelangelo painstakingly worked on for more than four years, standing up for 16 hours a day with brush overhead, is just a tiny fraction of the whole ceiling. The image of God touching Adam's finger to give him the spark of life is much, much smaller than I imagined. The final judgment painting borrows a lot from the pop culture of the time, heavily referencing Dante's Inferno. The piety of reform resulting in fig leaves being placed over all the nudity Romans used to embrace. That, coupled with the church's pilfering pieces of the Colosseum and the Pantheon to build St. Peter's Basilica leave a bit of a bad taste in my mouth. Love the art, but not the ostentatious display of wealth, which seems kind inappropriate when the mission of the entity is to help those in its fold.
Mom's two cents worth: even though she's not catholic, she says the information was amazing.
I drop mom back off at the apartment for a siesta while I make friends with Francesco, the most popular tie dealer in all of Rome, according to the source -- him. The tiny little shop will only fit him and I, which is fine, since he's ignoring everyone else anyway. Says he doesn't like their attitude. Apparently I'm okay, but since he says he counts all of Washington's congressman as customers, I'm skeptical about his judgment. He also says Portland's basketball players buy his ties. Anyway... very sweet man and we have a nice, very real, conversation before I'm sold on which patterns I like best. It reminds me of Fight Club, when Brad Pitt remarks about single serving friends. People have a lot of interactions like that. This is not that case with Francesco, and I appreciate that kind of experience... a lot.
Afterward, I head to the monk bone church, for lack of a better description and my complete inability to remember the proper name. The walls and ceilings are covered with the bones of dead monks. Hip bones, vertebrae, ribs, skulls -- all in amazing formations that look like mosaic. It is awesome. And it smells weird. Pics are not allowed, but I did sneak you one. Tech support (I heart you, Sarah Markel!) is working on figuring out how we can post these to the blog as I type. Eye candy soon... I promise!
We had a light dinner and I am happy for a big salad and mom for her fruit. We tried to ship our booty home to no avail today, so we are in trouble tomorrow as we load the pack mules -- meaning us -- for the train station. Destination Tuscany. Though I love Rome, I can hardly wait for the next part of our adventure. And driving in Italy should be fun. Mom will be curled up on the floor in the backseat praying, no doubt.
There's another adventure I embark on tomorrow as well... I turn 37.
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Divide & Conquer
The place mom picked for dinner was a win. There were roving singers, an incredible antipasto plate, and too much charged on our bill... which was promptly removed when I pointed out the error. I'm glad I read up on dining in Italy. Common problem, apparently, leading several to suggest always reviewing your bill. Mom has ossobucco, which was amazing, and at her suggestion, I had lasagna. If at third you don't succeed, why try again? I can't explain it, still -- nothing. It was tasty, but I am not a convert yet.
Afterwards, we searched for that little gelato place from last night again. Is the gelato-related suspense killing you? Don't worry -- the official gelato guide at the end of the trip will hopefully make it worth the wait. This is definitely the best quality gelato, and we get two flavors a night to try and discern the best. Well, at least our favorites.
Before we left for dinner, I had another lovely game of charades with Lady Ana. She is really a sweetie, and I am finding that if I say a word in Spanish, she can often pick up what I mean. See... I did learn something in high school! tonight we talked about where else we plan to go in Italy, and why we've come. She is 63, but I would have imagined much older. People seem to age quickly here.
We are plotting a course for tomorrow, which includes a tour of the Vatican and a tour of the Vatican post office, so we can ship some of the bounty we've accumulated home. I'm working in another siesta for mom, which I am sure I will appreciate, too, especially as I plan to run in the morning before we head out. In the afternoon... we plan to tour a crypt with mosaics made from monk bones -- a recommendation from friends in DC.
I like mosaics.
I've been thinking a lot about the Roman Empire. There are so many little colloquialisms that make much more sense to me now. One example -- Rome wasn't built in a day. Clearly. It took centuries of people trying to out do each other to create the masterpiece known as the "Eternal City." In that, though, there is something sad. It wasn't meant to leave behind something great for the ages. It was Flavius outdoing Nero, and Constantine UNDOING them all. That brings to mind another example -- divide and conquer. Rome divided itself, and that brought about it's fall.
As we look back at history, you would think we'd learn something. A great civilization, revered -- or feared -- by the world for a far reaching hand. Yet something as simple as one leader trying to exert his power over another brings about the end. In the US, we've exerted our control over others in a similar fashion. America the great, now divided within. And we watch it fall... mute.
What happened to united we stand, even against our own leaders, who fail us time and time again?
Afterwards, we searched for that little gelato place from last night again. Is the gelato-related suspense killing you? Don't worry -- the official gelato guide at the end of the trip will hopefully make it worth the wait. This is definitely the best quality gelato, and we get two flavors a night to try and discern the best. Well, at least our favorites.
Before we left for dinner, I had another lovely game of charades with Lady Ana. She is really a sweetie, and I am finding that if I say a word in Spanish, she can often pick up what I mean. See... I did learn something in high school! tonight we talked about where else we plan to go in Italy, and why we've come. She is 63, but I would have imagined much older. People seem to age quickly here.
We are plotting a course for tomorrow, which includes a tour of the Vatican and a tour of the Vatican post office, so we can ship some of the bounty we've accumulated home. I'm working in another siesta for mom, which I am sure I will appreciate, too, especially as I plan to run in the morning before we head out. In the afternoon... we plan to tour a crypt with mosaics made from monk bones -- a recommendation from friends in DC.
I like mosaics.
I've been thinking a lot about the Roman Empire. There are so many little colloquialisms that make much more sense to me now. One example -- Rome wasn't built in a day. Clearly. It took centuries of people trying to out do each other to create the masterpiece known as the "Eternal City." In that, though, there is something sad. It wasn't meant to leave behind something great for the ages. It was Flavius outdoing Nero, and Constantine UNDOING them all. That brings to mind another example -- divide and conquer. Rome divided itself, and that brought about it's fall.
As we look back at history, you would think we'd learn something. A great civilization, revered -- or feared -- by the world for a far reaching hand. Yet something as simple as one leader trying to exert his power over another brings about the end. In the US, we've exerted our control over others in a similar fashion. America the great, now divided within. And we watch it fall... mute.
What happened to united we stand, even against our own leaders, who fail us time and time again?
Rome wasn't built in a day... and we weren't built for this heat...
Today... the Colosseum.
We decide to avoid the lines (which I have to say, when we arrive at 7:30 AM really don't exist), and purchase a tour. It includes two areas not open to the general public: the lower floors where the animals and gladiators would come into the arena from, and the upper levels, giving us kind of a birds eye view of the whole thing.
As we were walking from the meeting place into the great structure, the guide was giving us a history of the building. There is a statue somewhere else in Rome -- I think of Marcus Aurelius -- that has gold leaf on it. There is a prophecy that when the gold all wears off, Rome will be no more. So the statue was moved to a museum. The prophecy takes on a grander scale here. We are told that is the Colosseum falls, the world will end. A Florentine, the owner of Tods shoes, is donating 25 million euros to restore the structure.
I'm skeptical. First, if you can artificially preserve the life of something, what use is a prophecy? And second... I think the Italians might be a look full of their own self importance.
That said, walking through all of Rome is like an open air museum, and the history lesson isn't lost on me. I love history, especially when it involves war or large scale debauchery of any kind. For example, we learn that in 64 AD, Emperor Nero burned large parts of Rome and blamed it on the Christians. His motive? He wanted to build himself a large home (that self importance thing doesn't sound so judgmental now, does it?) When he dies, the senate realizes they really need to get someone in power who will restore the image of the emperor to the people. Enter Flavius, who reallocates Nero's playground (filled with water and used to stage naval battles) into the Flavian Ampitheatre, or the Colosseum. The name is interesting, and actually inspired by a colossal statue of Nero that once stood out front. Colossal... Colosseum.
Unfortunately, the Colosseum is made of travertine marble, which is a porous stone, making it difficult to clean and maintain. There is an area in from of the structure where you can see the black color from years of traffic and pollution, and the cleaned version from the 1980's, when a bank donated some money that lasted long enough to clean about a three columns-width section. There are 80 on the first floor alone.
The history of events at the Colosseum had me literally transfixed. Unlike today, ancient Rome was extremely organized, and between each column is a roman numeral. Tickets, made of wood or marble bore a Roman numeral corresponding to where spectators were supposed to enter. The steps were made very steep, to slow traffic going in, and speed it going out. The guide said something about it being called vomitonous -- I'm not sure -- but it refers to the steps "vomitting" people out. Gross, but I think the climb does make mom want to vomit a little.
The seating here was organized socially, with the most important people sitting closest to the stage. That included senators, and, of course, the emperor. Events lasted all day. The first part would include fighting between slaves, prisoners... and animals many had never seen before. Imagine sitting in the stands, people are yelling all around you as many have bet on the fights, there are men being brought out one after the other as wild beasts pop up from the floor of the arena stage, brought up using winches to raise the cages. Elephants, lions.... animals not fed for a week prior to the game. So then you've got half eaten corpses cooking in the sun, blood everywhere, and a crowd who just wants more. In the first three months of the amphitheater opening, there were games every day. About ten thousand people died.
After an afternoon siesta, it was time for the gladiators. Some were debtors working off their debts. Others, prisoners who chose this lifestyle. All were very expensive and had to be "rented" for the events, so they made a decent living, despite what could be a short life span. They were oiled to show off their muscles, and women spectators were relegated to the higher floors, lest they fall in love with these specimens of masculinity. The gladiators were not given weapons until they were sent in to the arena. Many became friends, and then would be forced to face each other in battle -- some killed themselves in the dressing room rather than slay a friend. But in the arena, none were allowed to actually decide to make the kill. That was for the emperor. Once it got to that point, the victorious gladiator would stop and look to the emperor for a sign of what to do. The crowd would be going wild, chanting what they wanted the outcome to be -- freedom... or death. The emperor would give. Thumbs up for freedom. A thumb to the side wasn't a good sign for the guy on the ground.
And funny, because it reminds me of how they always show a kill shot in the hood... hand turned to the side.
We also discover that Italians were the original recyclers. On the second and third tiers of the Colosseum, there were statues to the senators. As they were elected yearly, the heads would be removed and replaced with the new official. Very pragmatic. When Rome was in crisis, people needed metal for cannon balls, so they took it from the walls of the structure, which is why there are so many holes in the facade. After Rome fell, the popes sacked the Colosseum, taking the travertine marble from the seats and floors and using it to build St. Peter's Square. They then consecrated the Colosseum as a holy place. Charming.
We also tour the inside of the Roman Forum and Palatine Hill, then hop on the tour bus from yesterday again to properly melt ourselves in the sun. We are cooked when we arrive near Trevi Fountain and I spot a designer outlet store and pop in for a peek. Until I come to the realization that mom is just done. I pay for my completely unnecessary elbow length leather gloves and head out to get us some lunch. Afterwards, it's back tot e apartment for a four hour snooze. It think we both needed it.
We are just heading out to dinner now to a place mom has been dying to go -- the Tritone Antica Trattoria. She has a great memory of this place from her last visit here. But first... a glass of wine at the News Cafe to post this blog entry. And after? Gelato.
When in Rome...
We decide to avoid the lines (which I have to say, when we arrive at 7:30 AM really don't exist), and purchase a tour. It includes two areas not open to the general public: the lower floors where the animals and gladiators would come into the arena from, and the upper levels, giving us kind of a birds eye view of the whole thing.
As we were walking from the meeting place into the great structure, the guide was giving us a history of the building. There is a statue somewhere else in Rome -- I think of Marcus Aurelius -- that has gold leaf on it. There is a prophecy that when the gold all wears off, Rome will be no more. So the statue was moved to a museum. The prophecy takes on a grander scale here. We are told that is the Colosseum falls, the world will end. A Florentine, the owner of Tods shoes, is donating 25 million euros to restore the structure.
I'm skeptical. First, if you can artificially preserve the life of something, what use is a prophecy? And second... I think the Italians might be a look full of their own self importance.
That said, walking through all of Rome is like an open air museum, and the history lesson isn't lost on me. I love history, especially when it involves war or large scale debauchery of any kind. For example, we learn that in 64 AD, Emperor Nero burned large parts of Rome and blamed it on the Christians. His motive? He wanted to build himself a large home (that self importance thing doesn't sound so judgmental now, does it?) When he dies, the senate realizes they really need to get someone in power who will restore the image of the emperor to the people. Enter Flavius, who reallocates Nero's playground (filled with water and used to stage naval battles) into the Flavian Ampitheatre, or the Colosseum. The name is interesting, and actually inspired by a colossal statue of Nero that once stood out front. Colossal... Colosseum.
Unfortunately, the Colosseum is made of travertine marble, which is a porous stone, making it difficult to clean and maintain. There is an area in from of the structure where you can see the black color from years of traffic and pollution, and the cleaned version from the 1980's, when a bank donated some money that lasted long enough to clean about a three columns-width section. There are 80 on the first floor alone.
The history of events at the Colosseum had me literally transfixed. Unlike today, ancient Rome was extremely organized, and between each column is a roman numeral. Tickets, made of wood or marble bore a Roman numeral corresponding to where spectators were supposed to enter. The steps were made very steep, to slow traffic going in, and speed it going out. The guide said something about it being called vomitonous -- I'm not sure -- but it refers to the steps "vomitting" people out. Gross, but I think the climb does make mom want to vomit a little.
The seating here was organized socially, with the most important people sitting closest to the stage. That included senators, and, of course, the emperor. Events lasted all day. The first part would include fighting between slaves, prisoners... and animals many had never seen before. Imagine sitting in the stands, people are yelling all around you as many have bet on the fights, there are men being brought out one after the other as wild beasts pop up from the floor of the arena stage, brought up using winches to raise the cages. Elephants, lions.... animals not fed for a week prior to the game. So then you've got half eaten corpses cooking in the sun, blood everywhere, and a crowd who just wants more. In the first three months of the amphitheater opening, there were games every day. About ten thousand people died.
After an afternoon siesta, it was time for the gladiators. Some were debtors working off their debts. Others, prisoners who chose this lifestyle. All were very expensive and had to be "rented" for the events, so they made a decent living, despite what could be a short life span. They were oiled to show off their muscles, and women spectators were relegated to the higher floors, lest they fall in love with these specimens of masculinity. The gladiators were not given weapons until they were sent in to the arena. Many became friends, and then would be forced to face each other in battle -- some killed themselves in the dressing room rather than slay a friend. But in the arena, none were allowed to actually decide to make the kill. That was for the emperor. Once it got to that point, the victorious gladiator would stop and look to the emperor for a sign of what to do. The crowd would be going wild, chanting what they wanted the outcome to be -- freedom... or death. The emperor would give. Thumbs up for freedom. A thumb to the side wasn't a good sign for the guy on the ground.
And funny, because it reminds me of how they always show a kill shot in the hood... hand turned to the side.
We also discover that Italians were the original recyclers. On the second and third tiers of the Colosseum, there were statues to the senators. As they were elected yearly, the heads would be removed and replaced with the new official. Very pragmatic. When Rome was in crisis, people needed metal for cannon balls, so they took it from the walls of the structure, which is why there are so many holes in the facade. After Rome fell, the popes sacked the Colosseum, taking the travertine marble from the seats and floors and using it to build St. Peter's Square. They then consecrated the Colosseum as a holy place. Charming.
We also tour the inside of the Roman Forum and Palatine Hill, then hop on the tour bus from yesterday again to properly melt ourselves in the sun. We are cooked when we arrive near Trevi Fountain and I spot a designer outlet store and pop in for a peek. Until I come to the realization that mom is just done. I pay for my completely unnecessary elbow length leather gloves and head out to get us some lunch. Afterwards, it's back tot e apartment for a four hour snooze. It think we both needed it.
We are just heading out to dinner now to a place mom has been dying to go -- the Tritone Antica Trattoria. She has a great memory of this place from her last visit here. But first... a glass of wine at the News Cafe to post this blog entry. And after? Gelato.
When in Rome...
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Lady Ana vs. Lady Gaga
As I was enjoying my tea on the veranda this morning while mom was getting ready, Lady Ana came out to tell me how beautiful the opera music I was listening to was. I love that no matter what language you speak, music always seems to connect people. She says something about pop, indicating the rapid, loud beats, and that she much prefers this. Me, too, Lady Ana.
But I can still rock out to some Lady Gaga.
We head out to catch the hop on, hop off bus tour of Rome that I bought with my Citicard thank you points. Excellent allocation of resources -- it is a fabulous experience. Except, of course, the open top. It's kind of a double edged sword... fabulous views, scorching sun. Mom says even though the seats are hard to get, the the best place to sit is the very front, otherwise the scent of every person in front of you blows past your nose.
Regardless, we take the bus the full circle through Rome while listening to the history of each place. I am a little crispy by the time we get off at Piazza Venezia, the former embassy of the Republic of Venice, and wander around to look at the outside of the Foro Romano -- the Roman Forum. It's hot as Hades. I buy mom a hat to replace the strategically misplaced umbrella she was trying to poke my eyes out with in Capri, but it keeps blowing off her head.
We find some relief after another short bus ride toward the Vatican, getting off near Castel Sant' Angelo (a.k.a. Mole Adriana, a.a.k.a. Hadrien's Pile, a.a.a.k.a. Castellum Crescentii...) for a peek. It's five euro, but again, money well spent. It's cooler inside the Roman mausoleum. One of the things we learned on the bus passing the place before was that in 590 AD, the year the castle received it's current moniker, Rome was afflicted by a severe plague. Pope Gregory I participated in a procession organized to pray for it'end and had a vision near the Castel 'Sant Angelo of the Archangel Michael sheathing his sword. It was interpreted to be a sign of the end of the plague, which, miraculously, came true. The site was renamed Mole Adriana and a statue of an angel sheathing a sword was placed on top to commemorate the celestial sign. The building has also been used as an outpost, a jail, and as our tour pamphlet describes -- a "splendid Renaissance residence."
Splendid home sweet mausoleum.
We upgrade our bus tour to include a Tiber River cruise, which is not running on schedule. It is also not air conditioned and a glass boat... so it's kind of like a floating greenhouse. The heat puts me out and I sleep for the entire ride. Also money well spent as we are a tad exhausted. We disembark near the hip neighborhood, Trastavere, and pop into an internet cafe (the password is "pimpmyride" -- yes, really) where I unsuccessfully try to figure out how to load pictures onto the blog with an iPad. Anyone know how to do this? It is making me crazy, and I feel like you deserve some eye candy. In the meanwhile, mom sends emails to our entire family letting them know I won't leave the door open at night because I am afraid the people staying on the other side of the apartment are actually ninjas.
Oy.
Speaking of, I've read about this place in the Jewish ghetto called Sora Margherita -- the place I mentioned that doesn't have a proper sign? Well, it actually does, but this doesn't make it easier to find tucked back off the main road. My taste buds thank me for the effort. We share Corcio Fo Alla Giudia (fried artichoke) and Fiore di Zucca (fried squash blossoms) to start. Yum. The artichoke is kind of like potato chips and the squash blossoms are to die for, stuffed with gooey mozzarella. Mom has veal for dinner and I have Agnocotti (basically, beef ravioli). It is delicious... the sauce wonderful and the pasta sort of tastes like egg noodles.
I have, however, come to a sad conclusion. I tend to avoid pasta at home. I'm not a huge fan, and everyone kept telling me before we left that I just needed to have GOOD pasta in Italy. Well, I've had it twice now and it is official -- I just don't like pasta. I'm not really a picky eater, so I'll eat it and enjoy it. I just don't PREFER it.
Likely won't be on my last meal menu in the Italian prison I'll get sent to when I buy one of these fake Prada purses from the street vendors. Believe me -- I'm tempted, but we read so much about big fines and such that I've shied away. Anyway, right now, my last menu would have lots of spinach on it. Or maybe some kale. Green things. I miss vegetables, which I know my trainer loves hearing, don't you Jeff?
We got home excited to take a shower only to hear from Lady Ana that there is no hot water. Mom's screams were enough to scare the crap out of me, but I'm going to brave it anyway. Funny how we complained about the heat all day, and are now afraid of a little cold water, isn't it?
But I can still rock out to some Lady Gaga.
We head out to catch the hop on, hop off bus tour of Rome that I bought with my Citicard thank you points. Excellent allocation of resources -- it is a fabulous experience. Except, of course, the open top. It's kind of a double edged sword... fabulous views, scorching sun. Mom says even though the seats are hard to get, the the best place to sit is the very front, otherwise the scent of every person in front of you blows past your nose.
Regardless, we take the bus the full circle through Rome while listening to the history of each place. I am a little crispy by the time we get off at Piazza Venezia, the former embassy of the Republic of Venice, and wander around to look at the outside of the Foro Romano -- the Roman Forum. It's hot as Hades. I buy mom a hat to replace the strategically misplaced umbrella she was trying to poke my eyes out with in Capri, but it keeps blowing off her head.
We find some relief after another short bus ride toward the Vatican, getting off near Castel Sant' Angelo (a.k.a. Mole Adriana, a.a.k.a. Hadrien's Pile, a.a.a.k.a. Castellum Crescentii...) for a peek. It's five euro, but again, money well spent. It's cooler inside the Roman mausoleum. One of the things we learned on the bus passing the place before was that in 590 AD, the year the castle received it's current moniker, Rome was afflicted by a severe plague. Pope Gregory I participated in a procession organized to pray for it'end and had a vision near the Castel 'Sant Angelo of the Archangel Michael sheathing his sword. It was interpreted to be a sign of the end of the plague, which, miraculously, came true. The site was renamed Mole Adriana and a statue of an angel sheathing a sword was placed on top to commemorate the celestial sign. The building has also been used as an outpost, a jail, and as our tour pamphlet describes -- a "splendid Renaissance residence."
Splendid home sweet mausoleum.
We upgrade our bus tour to include a Tiber River cruise, which is not running on schedule. It is also not air conditioned and a glass boat... so it's kind of like a floating greenhouse. The heat puts me out and I sleep for the entire ride. Also money well spent as we are a tad exhausted. We disembark near the hip neighborhood, Trastavere, and pop into an internet cafe (the password is "pimpmyride" -- yes, really) where I unsuccessfully try to figure out how to load pictures onto the blog with an iPad. Anyone know how to do this? It is making me crazy, and I feel like you deserve some eye candy. In the meanwhile, mom sends emails to our entire family letting them know I won't leave the door open at night because I am afraid the people staying on the other side of the apartment are actually ninjas.
Oy.
Speaking of, I've read about this place in the Jewish ghetto called Sora Margherita -- the place I mentioned that doesn't have a proper sign? Well, it actually does, but this doesn't make it easier to find tucked back off the main road. My taste buds thank me for the effort. We share Corcio Fo Alla Giudia (fried artichoke) and Fiore di Zucca (fried squash blossoms) to start. Yum. The artichoke is kind of like potato chips and the squash blossoms are to die for, stuffed with gooey mozzarella. Mom has veal for dinner and I have Agnocotti (basically, beef ravioli). It is delicious... the sauce wonderful and the pasta sort of tastes like egg noodles.
I have, however, come to a sad conclusion. I tend to avoid pasta at home. I'm not a huge fan, and everyone kept telling me before we left that I just needed to have GOOD pasta in Italy. Well, I've had it twice now and it is official -- I just don't like pasta. I'm not really a picky eater, so I'll eat it and enjoy it. I just don't PREFER it.
Likely won't be on my last meal menu in the Italian prison I'll get sent to when I buy one of these fake Prada purses from the street vendors. Believe me -- I'm tempted, but we read so much about big fines and such that I've shied away. Anyway, right now, my last menu would have lots of spinach on it. Or maybe some kale. Green things. I miss vegetables, which I know my trainer loves hearing, don't you Jeff?
We got home excited to take a shower only to hear from Lady Ana that there is no hot water. Mom's screams were enough to scare the crap out of me, but I'm going to brave it anyway. Funny how we complained about the heat all day, and are now afraid of a little cold water, isn't it?
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
I'm a princess. Really.
We have 20 foot ceilings in our room. There's a column in the corner and a whimsical metal headboard that sort of makes me feel like a princess. The doors to the veranda are ten feet tall, and the louvered design on the metal "screen" door reminds me of my apartment at home. Except now I wish I lived in Rome.
The apartment is set up with a vestibule area, and the door to our room is one of those seamless ones that blends into the wall. There are a few other doors, but the only person that seems to be here is Lady Ana. She's made us breakfast this morning of some biscuits, rolls and coffee and tea, which she sets up on the veranda. I may be in heaven.
We are thrilled to be putting on our own clothes, and ironically, both choose a hot pink dress. Mom looked totally cute in hers with an orange belt she got in Sorrento around the waist, so I opt for black pants and a red off the shoulder shirt with some ballet style flats. We look very chic for tourists, if I do say so myself. Rome seems to be much more fashionable than the south, and it's nice to see men in suits and ties rather than oddly colored pants hanging off their butts and untied high top tennis shoes. I guess saying that makes me officially old.
Damn.
We head out to Fontana Di Trevi, which when overrun by tourists, looks a lot less magical. We stop for cannoli (me) and gelato (mom) which means a trip back to the apartment. Blasted lactose intolerance. Just in case you were wondering -- that doesn't mean I plan to STOP eating my way across Italy any time soon!
We regroup and come up with a plan... Piazza Di Spagna to see the Spanish Steps, then on to Piazza Navona for more fountains, and on to Campo 'de Fiore. We plan to have dinner in the ghetto at this place I read about called Sora Margherita, which has no sign above the door. That will be fun to find, but it is supposedly an institution in Rome, so will be worth the hunt.
LATER THAT DAY:
My feet hurt. I actually wore a hole in the bottom of one of my shoes. In retrospect, not the best choice for hiking around Rome for about eight hours! We hit all of our marks except one, but since we added in the Palazzo Barberini and the Pantheon, I figure we made up for it. We have a lovely lunch at Il Palazzetto overlooking the Spanish Steps, which are much shorter than I imagined they would be. We both crave vegetables, which doesn't seem to rank highly on any menu we've seen so far. Mom wants broccoli and I could go for some zucchini. We get salad -- which is at least green -- and a little tipsy from the wine. I can always tell when mom is a little drunk when her nose gets pink. It's her signature sign. I will ask all of you who know MINE to mind your p's and q's...
After lunch, we stroll toward the Piazza Navona to wander throughout the artist stalls. On the way, we come upon a demonstration near the parliament building, which also happens to be in front of the Pantheon. I actually really enjoyed the Pantheon, with it's massive foot-thick doors and incredible stone dome ceiling. And you didn't have to pay to get inside. We did pay earlier to get into the Palazzo Barberini -- totally worth all five euros. The art was amazing, but the frescoes on the ceiling were unbelievable. I literally couldn't tell that they were painted on a flat surface without really training my eyes on certain areas. Barberini (a.k.a. Pope Urban VIII), was a great patron of the arts and invested heavily in projects throughout Rome, hiring sculptor Gian Lorenzo Bernini and the architect Francesco Borromini to complete a lot of the work. The Barberini coat of arms features three bees, which can be seen all over Rome on statues and monuments commissioned by the pope, including Fontana de Tritone (the Triton fountain).
By the time we get to Campo 'de Fiore (decidedly not very impressive, supposed to be buzzing in the evenings, but all the shops seem closed when we arrive at 8 pm), we are still not hungry for dinner so we scrap Sora Margherita and hop in a cab home. It seems like we are always eating, but all we really had today was a few biscuits for breakfast, salad and gelato. We decide to nosh a little on cheese and salami from the factory at Paestum while watching Italian TV. We make up our own lines since we can't understand much of what is going on.
Believe me... our version is much more entertaining.
The apartment is set up with a vestibule area, and the door to our room is one of those seamless ones that blends into the wall. There are a few other doors, but the only person that seems to be here is Lady Ana. She's made us breakfast this morning of some biscuits, rolls and coffee and tea, which she sets up on the veranda. I may be in heaven.
We are thrilled to be putting on our own clothes, and ironically, both choose a hot pink dress. Mom looked totally cute in hers with an orange belt she got in Sorrento around the waist, so I opt for black pants and a red off the shoulder shirt with some ballet style flats. We look very chic for tourists, if I do say so myself. Rome seems to be much more fashionable than the south, and it's nice to see men in suits and ties rather than oddly colored pants hanging off their butts and untied high top tennis shoes. I guess saying that makes me officially old.
Damn.
We head out to Fontana Di Trevi, which when overrun by tourists, looks a lot less magical. We stop for cannoli (me) and gelato (mom) which means a trip back to the apartment. Blasted lactose intolerance. Just in case you were wondering -- that doesn't mean I plan to STOP eating my way across Italy any time soon!
We regroup and come up with a plan... Piazza Di Spagna to see the Spanish Steps, then on to Piazza Navona for more fountains, and on to Campo 'de Fiore. We plan to have dinner in the ghetto at this place I read about called Sora Margherita, which has no sign above the door. That will be fun to find, but it is supposedly an institution in Rome, so will be worth the hunt.
LATER THAT DAY:
My feet hurt. I actually wore a hole in the bottom of one of my shoes. In retrospect, not the best choice for hiking around Rome for about eight hours! We hit all of our marks except one, but since we added in the Palazzo Barberini and the Pantheon, I figure we made up for it. We have a lovely lunch at Il Palazzetto overlooking the Spanish Steps, which are much shorter than I imagined they would be. We both crave vegetables, which doesn't seem to rank highly on any menu we've seen so far. Mom wants broccoli and I could go for some zucchini. We get salad -- which is at least green -- and a little tipsy from the wine. I can always tell when mom is a little drunk when her nose gets pink. It's her signature sign. I will ask all of you who know MINE to mind your p's and q's...
After lunch, we stroll toward the Piazza Navona to wander throughout the artist stalls. On the way, we come upon a demonstration near the parliament building, which also happens to be in front of the Pantheon. I actually really enjoyed the Pantheon, with it's massive foot-thick doors and incredible stone dome ceiling. And you didn't have to pay to get inside. We did pay earlier to get into the Palazzo Barberini -- totally worth all five euros. The art was amazing, but the frescoes on the ceiling were unbelievable. I literally couldn't tell that they were painted on a flat surface without really training my eyes on certain areas. Barberini (a.k.a. Pope Urban VIII), was a great patron of the arts and invested heavily in projects throughout Rome, hiring sculptor Gian Lorenzo Bernini and the architect Francesco Borromini to complete a lot of the work. The Barberini coat of arms features three bees, which can be seen all over Rome on statues and monuments commissioned by the pope, including Fontana de Tritone (the Triton fountain).
By the time we get to Campo 'de Fiore (decidedly not very impressive, supposed to be buzzing in the evenings, but all the shops seem closed when we arrive at 8 pm), we are still not hungry for dinner so we scrap Sora Margherita and hop in a cab home. It seems like we are always eating, but all we really had today was a few biscuits for breakfast, salad and gelato. We decide to nosh a little on cheese and salami from the factory at Paestum while watching Italian TV. We make up our own lines since we can't understand much of what is going on.
Believe me... our version is much more entertaining.
Monday, September 12, 2011
Dove Trevi Fountain?
We arrived in Rome late, but totally lucked out with a great taxi driver who quotes us a price of 20 euros, then charges is half. This is after grilling me about my marital status, then proposing marriage when he discovered I am not married. Lady Ana meets us at the apartment. She is lovely, but speaks absolutely zero English. I have a lot of fun, though, figuring out what she is saying and am able to understand some things mom is not. Its very similar to Spanish... plus, I'm good at charades.
The place is amazing. Fourth floor, which is terrifying for a moment until I see the elevators. Great balcony, great location. It is just perfect. Mom is beat, but I'm anxious to go out. I unpack a bit then set out around 11:00 pm. I think she's nervous for me to go. I am at first as well. Strange city, single girl out alone. But then I accidentally run in to the Trevi Fountain. Yes, accidentally. Mother of God... what an awesome accident. I'm just wandering down the street hoping that I might find an Internet cafe and some gelato -- not to mention my way back home -- as I admiring the beautiful statues, buildings and fountains I am passing. I am still completely surprised when all of the sudden, I round a corner, and there it is in all it's glory. Stunning... an entire wall of fountain. It is brilliant.
Now, I could stay here typing to you at this Internet cafe where the waiter is mercilessly throwing himself at my feet (apparently, Rome will be quite different in that regard than the south of Italy), or... I could meander back and stare at this monstrous feat of architectural engineering and expert craftsmanship. What do you think I should do?
I wish it was a harder decision. Ciao!
As if there
The place is amazing. Fourth floor, which is terrifying for a moment until I see the elevators. Great balcony, great location. It is just perfect. Mom is beat, but I'm anxious to go out. I unpack a bit then set out around 11:00 pm. I think she's nervous for me to go. I am at first as well. Strange city, single girl out alone. But then I accidentally run in to the Trevi Fountain. Yes, accidentally. Mother of God... what an awesome accident. I'm just wandering down the street hoping that I might find an Internet cafe and some gelato -- not to mention my way back home -- as I admiring the beautiful statues, buildings and fountains I am passing. I am still completely surprised when all of the sudden, I round a corner, and there it is in all it's glory. Stunning... an entire wall of fountain. It is brilliant.
Now, I could stay here typing to you at this Internet cafe where the waiter is mercilessly throwing himself at my feet (apparently, Rome will be quite different in that regard than the south of Italy), or... I could meander back and stare at this monstrous feat of architectural engineering and expert craftsmanship. What do you think I should do?
I wish it was a harder decision. Ciao!
As if there
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)