Rome

On Saturday morning we came by train to Rome. Our hotel, the Domus Mea, lies about four blocks from the train station so it was easy to find and get settled into. We had expected warmer weather here than in Florence but it was, in fact, cooler and really pleasant. The hotel is on the fifth floor of a six or seven story building. It is entered through a miniscule elevator from the 19th century, the kind of elevator that Theoren was suspicious of during our travels together. Our room has its own sink, a wardrobe, a small table and chair, one double and one single bed, and best of all: a small balcony overlooking the back courtyard of the complex. It looks as though most of the other units facing this way are individual apartments. The view is reminiscent of a movie shot in Europe in the 50s or 60s, perhaps earlier. One could even imagine a picture made here during the Fascisti days of the early 20th century. Again we share facilities, this time more cramped and not as appealing as others we have enjoyed. Once settled we returned to the train station which also functions as a subway station and a mall with grocery stores, pharmacies, restaurants, a book store, newspaper kiosks, etc, to purchase a three-day tourist pass for the bus and subway. Because we were uncertain whether or not the Vatican would be open on Sunday or Monday we elected to go there directly, though it was by then mid-afternoon. Emily was keen to see Michelangelo’s painting on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, especially the famous fragment depicting God the Father reaching out his finger to touch that of the newly created Adam. When we arrived the line-ups for tickets and for admission were mercifully short. Once inside, however, we realized that we had merely avoided the crowds on the outside. The entire building bulged with tourists. I have been twice before, both times in the early morning so have never had to maneuver my way through as I had to on Saturday. One result was, however, that parts of the crowd (all basically heading as were we, toward the Sistine) were siphoned off into different sections of the building, bringing them in a more graduated manner into the desired chapel. 

Thus we found ourselves touring the Borgia apartments on our way. This was of interest to me as I had followed a series of programs about the Borgia family last season. Once into the Sistine we were confronted with a mass of people packed into every corner and filling up all of the imaginable space available. Several uniformed men shouted over and over again for the crowds to be silent. They walked about motioning individuals who had seated themselves on steps or on the floor at one side to get up. Their gestures and facial expressions seemed to proclaim a message like: Did your mother teach you nothing? Emily and I found space on one of the benches which line the room and rested there for some time looking at the paintings on the walls as well as those of Michelangelo on the ceiling and especially on the wall at one end where he depicted the Four Last Things (death, judgment, heaven, and hell). I once again gave Emily a little lesson in Catholic dogma. Pictures were not to be taken in the chapel but Emma did manage to take a few. She found the chapel quite different than she had imagined, as she had believed that the ceiling would be one long continuous painting rather than the individual scenarios which are presented of the stories of Genesis. 

 Our route from the chapel fortuitously led onto the terrace at the front of St Peter’s and we were able to enter and walk about this massive church without joining the very long line outside. We viewed Michelangelo’s Pieta in the entrance, an astonishingly life-like sculpture in marble. From there we joined the crowds moving clock-wise around the building, looking into side-chapels, marveling at the beautiful stained glass, the 400’ dome, the immense choir, and etc. It is an impressive place, not as comfortable or restful as others of the churches we have visited, but definitely awe-inspiring and powerful. 

Leaving the sacred for the profane we made our way across the Tiber for the Piazza Navonna, my favorite plaza in Rome. It is a very large oval with enormous, elaborate fountains, surrounded by restaurants and always filled with artists and people generally enjoying themselves. In Roman times it served as a “circus,” a place of entertainment which could be flooded by diverting the Tiber for mock naval battles to be enacted on it. Now it is ringed by beautiful palazzo and churches. We took a piazza-side table at one the restaurants for afternoon tea: cake and tea for me; croissant and ice cream for Emma. 

Close to our table a very talented funny-man was entertaining a crowd that had gathered, using a whistle and a series of props that he pulled from a large box which stood before him. He was very kinetic in his humor and seemed to improvise as he went along. Everyone adored him, including us. After tea we walked over to the nearby Pantheon, a resting place from Roman times for “the gods,” in more recent centuries a Catholic church. It was raining lightly but we walked further afield, to see the Spanish steps. Giving in to the elements, we headed back to our hotel, picking up some groceries and some things for our supper. Reading, eating, Skyping, and bed. Yesterday, Sunday, was a gorgeously bright and sunny day, exactly the kind of day that tourists adore. And so all and sundry were out in force. Our first foray was to the Coliseum, easily reached by subway from the train station. Here we found the hordes, vast lines of seekers, like ourselves, waiting to visit the main palace of Roman bread and circuses. Rather than join their number and wait for hours in the sun, we left the area, instead strolling along the nearby avenues lining the adjacent Roman Forum, up to the Via Del Corso and the alleyways leading to the Trevi Fountain. The fountain is viewed best in the evening when the lights that play across its surface transform the area into a magical space. Even in daylight it is special, however. All tourists eventually come here to thrown a coin over their shoulders into the water to ensure that they also will return one day to Rome. Emily loved the ritual coin toss and the taking of photos to record it, sitting with the crowds, and enjoying the cool spray of the fountain. 

From there we went on for our second visit to the Spanish steps, this time able to pause and appreciate it. After a leisurely afternoon break from the sun at our hotel, we went by subway to the Piazza Del Populo, the plaza of the people, an enormous area close to the Borgia gardens where concerts and rallies are held. Though it rained this morning we made our way once again to the Coliseum, this time successfully achieving our purpose. It is an astounding building, built close to 2000 years ago for the entertainment of the populace. It was entirely clad in white marble and was large enough to hold over 50,000 people at a time. Its current deterioration was not caused by faulty design or construction. Rather in earlier centuries when antiquities were not prized and preserved as they are today, the relics of the Roman era were pillaged for building materials. Despite its current condition it is an impressive place to walk about. It was raining as we did so but we had our umbrellas and dealt with it. Emily loved it all. 

The rain stopped by mid-afternoon so we ventured our again later for our last evening in Rome, walking down to the Tiber and the tomb of Caesar Augustus and then up to the Piazza Del Populo, stopping for a final magnificent gelato along our way. In the morning we will rise early and take a bus from the station to the airport and head back to Toronto. Each of our visited cities: London, Paris, Venice, Florence and Pisa, and finally Rome, has been terrific in its own way. Being in these places with Emily and sharing their wonders with her has been a delight.