6th May 2000 Tarquinia
Trip Start
Apr 27, 2000
1
10
81
Trip End
Aug 09, 2000
Rome,
Italy
Monday, February 17, 2003
Back on to the motorway at 7.00 am. Remember, you drive to the top of the main street at 50 km/h, take your toll ticket, and drive out the other side at 150 km/h. No time to adjust to the speed and traffic, and adrenalin pumps pretty fast. Anyway, half an hour down the motorway, we stop at a service station, and discover that the Italians are far more civilised in such things than the French. All the French service stations offered in the way of refreshments were coin operated coffee machines, and pre-packaged sandwiches and baguette type rolls (with manufactured dates and used by dates that were several weeks apart). The Italians actually have separate food cafes, where they have a barista, and they make fresh espresso, and all the other travellers order a sweet pastry to accompany it. We got strange looks when we ordered savoury panini type things that they toasted (After all, it was breakfast at 7.30 am). Everyone stood around at the counter to drink and eat, in the Italian way. Back on the motorway, another toll, and we are well down the Tuscan coast, and the road becomes non-toll for the next 100-km or so.
News Flash Live-as it happens
Well, it had to happen sooner or later. First major dining disaster. After the last entry, which was recorded at 8.45 pm, we went of for dinner at Gemma alla Lupa, three blocks away in Via Marghera. Listed in "Eyewitness Guide to Italy" as "A typical, modest Roman trattoria serving real Roman cuisine in a bustling atmosphere. Excellent value with speedy service". The menu was one of the most basic Italian menu's we have seen in a long while. There were tripe and a calves liver items on the menu, but the rest were the sort of items most Australian restaurants stopped offering ten years ago, in fact, this restaurant wouldn't survive in Leichhardt. There was little "bustle" when we arrived, and absolutely non-when we left, because we were the last to leave at 10.15 pm. Value, at 30,000 lira each (approx $25.00) was debatable, and the service was slow and contemptuous. Ches had Macaroni with Red Pepper and Bacon (acceptable but ordinary) and while she ordered Ham baked in Pastry, she isn't sure what she was served, maybe Veal in White Wine Sauce. The waiter delivered it, and when questioned, was rather offhand in declaring that there wasn't any pastry left. I had Spaghetti with the sauce of the house (Gemma Sauce)- the spaghetti was superbly aldente, and the sauce interesting but not clearly identifiable other than tomatoes and mince of some description. My main was Tripe in Gravy with Mint. The tripe was tough, and I think they had run out of mint. Ches spent half an hour trying to get an additional glass for her wine (they only provided one glass each for a carafe of wine and a bottle of mineral water)-we think it was her persistence that lead the waiter to declare that we were deserving of his contempt. We finished off with ice cream (and we don't believe they offered it as gelato for a reason). On top of everything else, because we were sitting at an outside table, Indian/Pakistani touts offering everything from Roses to baskets of nick knack junk pestered us all through the meal. It was probably our own fault. We didn't hear any Italian spoken at any other table. The worst of it was, that on returning home, we discovered that the trattoria/pizzeria opposite our pensione was still doing a roaring trade.
9th May 2000-9.00 am
Anyway, we were still back in Tuscany, heading down the coast to Rome. We guess that this region isn't pure Tuscany, being largely coastal plain, but nevertheless, beautiful lush country, some fabulous old farmhouses that do look Tuscan, plenty of vineyards, and the odd olive grove on the hillsides. Off to our left (east), are the mountains that contain Tuscany "proper, and we were teased all the way with turnoffs to Lucca, Fierenz, Pisa and Sienna. On to Lazzio, and our first planned stop for the day at Tarquinia. We had been told that it was a four to five hour drive from Rapallo to Rome, which was one of the reasons why we decided to stay over in Rapallo. We figured a 7.00 am start from Rapallo would get us to Tarquinia by around 11.00 am, with plenty of time to see the sights and then stop off at Cerveteri, before heading in to Rome around 3.00 pm, which we kind of hoped would be the quietest time of day (being the afternoon period where everything closes). No, I'm not that naive.
Both Tarquinia and Ceveteri are notable for their archaeological sites-both being major Etruscan towns. Didn't arrive in Tarquinia much before midday. Did the sensible thing and took the first parking spot at the first parking area, just outside the city gates (Tarquinia used to be completely enclosed behind walls). As we walked up the main street, which literally runs straight up the hill to its top, we fortunately missed seeing the entrance to the Archaeological Museum. Fortunately because, by walking up the main street, we discovered several great Alimentary (delicatessen) and a fruit and veggie shop. Great prices for everything-Fresh asparagus at L5,500 per kilo ($5.00), and we bought a kilo. Wonderful vine ripened tomatoes, mushrooms (still with soil on the stems), Fennel, pasta, olive oil, yellow pepper. Fat little Italian sausages, grand padamo, olives and Pancetta. Just have to say something about the Pancetta. It's not hard and dry, its lovely and soft and moist, still has the rind on, and basically is a piece of solid smoked/cured bacon. Wonderful to cook with.
From the top of the town, there is a fantastic view out over the countryside to the north east, including the most amazing erosion patterns that almost resemble the far northern inland of Australia where the rivers only flow in the wet season, and the rest of the year there are dozens and dozens of dry riverbeds all running in the one direction. In this case, the fields are lush green, and the eroded rivulets quite white in colour. Need to see the video to get the idea. After buying our supplies on the way back down the hill, and a gelato to go on with, we dropped everything off at the car and went to the Archaeological museum. Highlight of the museum was in the last room. Most of the earlier rooms contained carved stone sarcophagi, with plenty of information sheets in English (laminated boards to carry around and return to a box at the exit). Surprisingly, a lot of information (for a period 700 BC) about the families and the artists who sculptured and painted the frescoes. The last room contained pottery and jewellery, helmets, daggers etc.
6.30 pm 9th may 2000
And then there was the pottery in the last room. Similar to Greek pottery of the same period-orange coloured clay with black patterns and/or pictures. In this case, lots of erotica, and for the most part rather exaggerated or flattering. We returned to our car, collected the makings for lunch, and sat in the park for a quick bite. With time running out, and the heat of the day increasing rather dramatically, we drove around the side of the hill on which the town is perched, to the Necropolis. Some 10 tombs were open for inspection, and we visited every one. It appears that there are quite a number of others, and that exploration and restoration is continuing. Originally they were large underground rooms, carved out of the rock, with sloping ceilings to simulate a roof. All surfaces were plastered and painted with frescoes-many by Greek and other eastern artists who were commissioned by the wealthy to decorate their homes and tombs. You could see where the sarcophagi had been placed, from the square holes cut in the stone floor to take the legs. All sorts of themes, but again in the last tomb, erotica (for the next life-sounds good to me). They always had tunnels to give access to the surface of the hill, however, in preserving them, thy have sealed the doorways with glass, and inside are thermostats to control the humidity and temperature. The staircase is contained within domed brick entrance rooms. Some of the frescoes were very faint, others quite fresh and vivid in their detail.
On to Rome, and in a hurry with it now being 3.00 pm and any chance of entering during the quiet time being highly unlikely. Toll motorways again. Traffic becoming heavier. Tension and apprehension increasing. We stopped to check our map, and decided on our route into Rome; around the fringe of the main centre. Even when we missed our way, it was to our advantage. We ran around the northern end of the Vatican instead of the south (the street ran along the base of the Vatican walls), then across the front of the entrance to Villa Borghese, and around toward Stazione Termini where our pensione is located. Traffic was so congested, you really couldn't get in to any trouble. Plenty of time to read the map and pick your streets. The main obstacle was vespa's. Hundreds of them, most with female pillion passengers. They only observe traffic lights if they really have to, and when they change, they charge out all around you (like a swarm of bees- and that's what they sound like). Actually made it to the top end of our street BUT, it was one way. The wrong way. I knew the writing was on the wall. If our street was one way, you could guarantee most of the others would be one way. And they were. To make matters worse, the only way in, involved negotiating our way down the side of the railway station with masses of motor bikes and vespas, tourist and domestic buses, and all the usual Rome traffic. Made it to our front door, checked in after some consternation that they hadn't reserved a room with a kitchen, unloaded the car completely, and headed off to the parking station where we were to garage the car for the rest of the week. Again we negotiated the myriad one way streets, and while we ended up out front of a garage, we thought it was the wrong one. We had a business card from our pensione, which had a printed map on the reverse side. The girl at the desk had marked in ink, where she thought the garage was. Ches went to the cashier's window to check, and got waylaid by the town drunk. He had minimal English, Ches had minimal Italian, and I was at the mercy of them both. He mistook the card/map, and Cheryl's question. He had us back up, ignore the one way traffic sign and head off after him as he jogged down the street ahead of us. We came to the widest, busiest avenue, with some six lanes of traffic, and he walked out into the traffic, arms waving as he stopped traffic in all directions, and lead us across all six lanes, into a side street, jumped into the back seat, directed us down two blocks, and then the penny dropped-he had lead us back to our pensione. Offered him our deepest thanks, a two thousand-lira tip, and waited for him to leave the scene, before we once again set out for the garage. Returned to the same one. The drunk wasn't there, so we pulled in. It is a garage where you drive your car onto a hydraulic lift, lock it up, and leave it to press a button which dispenses your ticket. Having dispensed the ticket, the lift takes your car up into the bowels of the building where it is stored in a bay, on a conveyer. When you return, you pay your fee, insert the card in the machine, and within two minutes, your car comes out on the conveyer, into the street, ready to unlock and drive off. I'm sure Phil and I looked at these systems, as a potential business, over twelve years ago. Returned home via the Alimentary, where we picked up a bottle of Volpolacella Santepietre for 7,200 lira (approx.$A6.25-OUTRAGEOUS) What a good drop. Also bought a bottle of beer-they don't seem to sell anything other that singles or the occasional 3 or 4 pack. Started in on the Sans Souci Export (just OK) while I prepared dinner. Half a fennel braised in Delizia Olio Extra Virgin (Carapelli of Firenze), diced Pancetta, two luscious vine ripened tomatoes (that you could smell from a mile away) served with grated Grand Padano. This is a variation on a favourite dish we cook at home. This was followed by Pancetta and the mince out of two spicy pork sausages, pan fried with a little yellow capsicum, and a bunch of sliced asparagus that we simmered separately, and stirred in with the other ingredients to a bowl of Farfalle (very small bowties), served with some grated Grand Padano. Not a bad start. The kitchen issue had been resolved by them offering a room with a cupboard in one corner that contained a sink, refrigerator and two electric rings. Cooking utensils consist of a frying pan and a saucepan, two large spoons, two forks, one serrated dining knife, a grater, a drainer and a couple of plates. Talk about basic. But the food isn't. Slept the sleep of the just.
