I was out on a solo mission this morning and I got stopped again by somebody wanting directions. This happened a couple of days ago when I was was out by myself. This time it was an Aussie couple. Clearly, I exclude that innate sense of style that makes people think I'm Italian. They asked me how to get to Piazza Navona - one of the big squares,popular with tourists. I cocked my head and looked at them quizzically. So they said it more slowly - 'Piaaaazza Naavonaaa'. And they said it a bit more loudly. And in an approximation of an Italian accent. I furrowed my brow and said, 'Italiano?' The bloke said, slowly and loudly, 'No. Australian'. I nodded knowingly and in my broadest Aussie accent said, 'Straight down there, mate. Hang a left and you can't miss it.'
Trastevere really is a great area to stay in - ideally one lane back from the action as we are. It's full of food and life. And churches. Boy, there are a heap of churches in Rome. There are three within 200 metres of our flat. We wandered into the closest one (40 metres away) this arvo. Santa Maria del Scalla was built between 1593 and 1610. It was spectacular - there is nothing like it in Australia. There was no sign of anybody inside except for a bloke praying - or dozing. There certainly wasn't anybody official hanging around trying to recruit us. It's interesting seeing locals go into their churches. They duck in, do whatever they need to do, and head out again. They're the same with coffee places. There is none of the sitting around we do. They walk in, throw down a quick, short coffee at the counter, and bounce out. It's all very perfunctory.
We've done a heap of stuff in Rome. Covered off all the usual suspects: the Pantheon, Trevi Fountain, Spanish Steps, Colosseum, Forum, a few galleries, including the newish modern art one - Maxis - and a bunch of other stuff. The thing that most impressed the kids? The gelato. We've walked more in the last week than I ever have in Rome and the kids haven't complained much at all. We sometimes catch a cab back to home base when we find ourselves miles away. Cabs here are really cheap and I enjoy being driven in that crazy traffic on the main roads and down those tiny streets. It's amazing how close cars get to eachother - and to people. Nobody pays much attention to lanes on the road - it feels like we're all really fast moving pieces of flotsam.
The Vatican and St. Peter's was yesterday. We showed up at the appointed time to meet Saint Colin who was handing us over to another guide - and hopefully getting a cut on the dozen or so people he had roped in. We were early to meet Colin and filling in time. Lulu (the 11 year old) was prancing along full of beans as 11 year olds sometimes do when she took a tumble. It was a pretty good one and she fell heavily - arm, leg and nose all got smacked. She must have got a fright, because when we helped her to her feet (possibly too quickly) she passed out and fell and the back of her head hit the pavement with a 'clunk'. It was a sound that stops the heart of any parent. She was fine in the end, but what was amazing was the number of concerned Italians who instantly came over. We were in a commuter area and these were people getting started with their day. There must have been 15 of them offering water, offering to call an ambulance or the police (not sure which police force) or just wringing their hands - maybe they were praying? I'm not sure that would happen in Sydney. Maybe it would with a kid down and out for the count?
We still managed to make the Vatican tour. Our guide this time was a bloke called Salvatore. He was a 70 year old flirt - reminded me of my dad. Being winter, the place wasn't too crowded, but I'm glad we had a guide. One thing the guides are apparently able to do is let people through a door from the Vatican museum into the forecourt of St. Peter's. Otherwise it's a long walk around and another big queue. St. Peter's always amazes me. I think even the kids were just a bit awestruck at the scale of the thing - maybe the younger one was just concussed? I particularly like the story about the dome. Michelangelo was commissioned to do it and he didn't get on with the Pope. Out of spite, he made the dome of St Peter's one metre smaller than the dome of The Pantheon - the big pagan temple in Rome. The pope didn't find out till Michelangelo was dead, and the dome was finished.
We even went to a flea market on Sunday. I had read that it was the best flea market in Rome, but it was rubbish. It's years since I've been to Paddy's Market in Sydney, but I bet it's the same - every fifth stall was selling the same stuff. And most of it would have come from China. The stalls most popular were the ones selling second hand clothes. Nothing special, just used clothes. The crowds around those stores said more about the state of the Italian economy than any treasury stats could. The market stretched for about a kilometre along a road with stalls on each side. It was pretty busy and there were a few of the Senegalese bag sellers wandering around with their stock on their arms. I saw one of them decided to construct his pop down shop right in the middle of the path. Nobody said a thing.
I got out of the market before Lisa and the girls and found myself part of what is a world wide phenomenon - blokes waiting for women to come out of a market/shop. There were at least a dozen of us. We acknowledged each others presence with set lips and the occasional eye roll. There was nothing that needed to be said. All of us were united in one unspoken thought, 'What on earth have they possibly have found in there to absorb their attention and extract their cash?'
I have a theory about the right length of time to stay in a city. It's one that just occurred to me today, so it hasn't exactly been rigorously tested. I reckon the time to leave is when the tourist map you picked up on the first day has started to get holes in it from being folded and refolded and dragged in and out of pockets and bags. My map has had it, so it's time to head to the train station to get the train to Venice.
Arrividerci Roma.
Trastevere really is a great area to stay in - ideally one lane back from the action as we are. It's full of food and life. And churches. Boy, there are a heap of churches in Rome. There are three within 200 metres of our flat. We wandered into the closest one (40 metres away) this arvo. Santa Maria del Scalla was built between 1593 and 1610. It was spectacular - there is nothing like it in Australia. There was no sign of anybody inside except for a bloke praying - or dozing. There certainly wasn't anybody official hanging around trying to recruit us. It's interesting seeing locals go into their churches. They duck in, do whatever they need to do, and head out again. They're the same with coffee places. There is none of the sitting around we do. They walk in, throw down a quick, short coffee at the counter, and bounce out. It's all very perfunctory.
We've done a heap of stuff in Rome. Covered off all the usual suspects: the Pantheon, Trevi Fountain, Spanish Steps, Colosseum, Forum, a few galleries, including the newish modern art one - Maxis - and a bunch of other stuff. The thing that most impressed the kids? The gelato. We've walked more in the last week than I ever have in Rome and the kids haven't complained much at all. We sometimes catch a cab back to home base when we find ourselves miles away. Cabs here are really cheap and I enjoy being driven in that crazy traffic on the main roads and down those tiny streets. It's amazing how close cars get to eachother - and to people. Nobody pays much attention to lanes on the road - it feels like we're all really fast moving pieces of flotsam.
The Vatican and St. Peter's was yesterday. We showed up at the appointed time to meet Saint Colin who was handing us over to another guide - and hopefully getting a cut on the dozen or so people he had roped in. We were early to meet Colin and filling in time. Lulu (the 11 year old) was prancing along full of beans as 11 year olds sometimes do when she took a tumble. It was a pretty good one and she fell heavily - arm, leg and nose all got smacked. She must have got a fright, because when we helped her to her feet (possibly too quickly) she passed out and fell and the back of her head hit the pavement with a 'clunk'. It was a sound that stops the heart of any parent. She was fine in the end, but what was amazing was the number of concerned Italians who instantly came over. We were in a commuter area and these were people getting started with their day. There must have been 15 of them offering water, offering to call an ambulance or the police (not sure which police force) or just wringing their hands - maybe they were praying? I'm not sure that would happen in Sydney. Maybe it would with a kid down and out for the count?
We still managed to make the Vatican tour. Our guide this time was a bloke called Salvatore. He was a 70 year old flirt - reminded me of my dad. Being winter, the place wasn't too crowded, but I'm glad we had a guide. One thing the guides are apparently able to do is let people through a door from the Vatican museum into the forecourt of St. Peter's. Otherwise it's a long walk around and another big queue. St. Peter's always amazes me. I think even the kids were just a bit awestruck at the scale of the thing - maybe the younger one was just concussed? I particularly like the story about the dome. Michelangelo was commissioned to do it and he didn't get on with the Pope. Out of spite, he made the dome of St Peter's one metre smaller than the dome of The Pantheon - the big pagan temple in Rome. The pope didn't find out till Michelangelo was dead, and the dome was finished.
We even went to a flea market on Sunday. I had read that it was the best flea market in Rome, but it was rubbish. It's years since I've been to Paddy's Market in Sydney, but I bet it's the same - every fifth stall was selling the same stuff. And most of it would have come from China. The stalls most popular were the ones selling second hand clothes. Nothing special, just used clothes. The crowds around those stores said more about the state of the Italian economy than any treasury stats could. The market stretched for about a kilometre along a road with stalls on each side. It was pretty busy and there were a few of the Senegalese bag sellers wandering around with their stock on their arms. I saw one of them decided to construct his pop down shop right in the middle of the path. Nobody said a thing.
I got out of the market before Lisa and the girls and found myself part of what is a world wide phenomenon - blokes waiting for women to come out of a market/shop. There were at least a dozen of us. We acknowledged each others presence with set lips and the occasional eye roll. There was nothing that needed to be said. All of us were united in one unspoken thought, 'What on earth have they possibly have found in there to absorb their attention and extract their cash?'
I have a theory about the right length of time to stay in a city. It's one that just occurred to me today, so it hasn't exactly been rigorously tested. I reckon the time to leave is when the tourist map you picked up on the first day has started to get holes in it from being folded and refolded and dragged in and out of pockets and bags. My map has had it, so it's time to head to the train station to get the train to Venice.
Arrividerci Roma.