Part 1: Roman Flirtations
Trip Start
Jun 10, 2007
1
5
Trip End
Jun 18, 2007
Rome,
Italy
Sunday, June 10, 2007
Our belly-belts were stuffed with documents, currency and credit cards for our first to Italy (and Europe). We'd planned for months: airline tickets in December, hotels in January, train seats in February, guide books, maps, and traveler's Italian. Rome, Tuscany and Venice were everything we'd hoped they'd be, and much more.
Our mantra was, "If you don't want adventure, stay home." Part one of our four part story recounts our two short, but memorable, passes at Rome.
Rubbing Romans on the Metro
When we arrived at Fiumicino (da Vinci International) Airport, we were surprised when our plane parked on the tarmac and we boarded buses to the terminal
Arch of Constantine
. We claimed our luggage, cleared passport control and customs, and after I located my first Italian toilette, we hailed a cab. I handed the driver the paper with our hotel's name, address and general location (vicino la Piazza Barberini), and we were off. We traveled along an expressway full of the smallest cars I had ever seen, though agricultural lands and past grazing sheet. However, the tranquility quickly turned into an Italian traffic jam at the first major interchange. After more stop and go, we reached the outskirts of Rome, and soon exited the expressway.
Besides the endless scooters (of all sizes and descriptions), we were immediately impressed by the ruins of ancient Rome, as the route to and from our hotel led directly past Palatine Hill. After we reached Piazza Barberini, the driver turned up a hill into the narrowest of streets. This was Via della Purificazione, and Hotel Modigliani was in the middle of the second block.
Although the building exteriors looked a little shabby, the hotel lobby was modern and bright and the staff attentive. They took our passports for the nightly police report, and the clerk said our room would not be ready until 2:00, at least four hours later. We asked about lunch and were told there were three bars on the piazza.
We picked the closest one. It was a narrow space with a high display case full of panini and dolci. We ordered due panini, fruta e acqua naturale. The food was excellent and much appreciated. While I went back to the hotel to get our hats and cameras, Bettie had a real caffè, the only one during the trip, as we always ordered caffè Americano (excellent and strong).
We only had one afternoon to "do Rome," and I had my heart set on riding the Metro to il Colesseo. Rome only has two Metro lines for its 2.5 million people, and the stations make the New York subway system look pretty.
We boarded the modern line at Piazza Barberini and rode to Termini, the central train station, where we boarded an even more crowded train to il Colesseo. Upon exiting the station, we faced one of the most familiar landmarks in the western world. Leaving il Colesseo for later, we walked up Palatine hill and marveled at the ruins and the views.
After resting in the shade on the way down, we walked around the north side of il Colesseo, watched the tourists, noticed a photographer taking pictures of a bride and groom in the park across the street and saw a dozen expensive Italian cars pull up for an impromptu auto show. From a distance il Colesseoo looked big, but up close, looking into the interior, it was even bigger.
After two more hot, smelly (up-close and personal) Metro rides, we emerged at Piazza Barberini and found Pepe's Bar where we watched the people, cars and scooters as we sat outside eating gelato. By the time we climbed back to our hotel, we were hot, tired and thankful that our room was ready. Our first afternoon in Rome ended as our heads hit our pillows for four hours of much needed sleep.
Roma Reveals Her Charms
After my nap, I was up and ready to explore. I headed up the street and turned right. I was seeking three sights: Fontana di Trevi, the Spanish Steps and Villa Borghese. After several lucky turns, I arrived at the "Aurelian Walls," (built by the emperor Aurelio in 271 a.d.) and the Porta Prinicana entrance to Villa Borghese.
After spending a few minutes admiring the open space of Villa Borghese and wishing I could explore further, I walked back until I reached Via Sistina and saw a sign pointing to Piazza di Spagna. Standing at the top of the Spanish Steps, I looked down at the two terraces and the piazza and out at the view of Rome. The steps were full of people, and the piazza was even more crowded.
Having reaching two of my objectives, I walked down Via Sistina to Piazza Barberini and then up Via Vittorio Viento. Along "our" side of the street were a series of bars and ristoranti. The fancy ones were in glass houses built on the very wide sidewalk. The diners could look out at the people and cars without having to listen to the noise, and the poorer folks like us could gawk at the rich.
That evening we returned to Via V. Viento and ate at the Suggestum Bar. The service was fine and the food OK, but we were both too tired to fully enjoy it.
After dinner, we walked up Via Sistina to the Spanish Steps. As we arrived about 9:30, "blanket vendors" started to appear. They spread blankets on the terraces and arranged their goods. First, there were leather purses, then other tourist items. I was amazed that they kept coming, until sellers far outnumbering buyers. By 9:45, there were at least 40 vendors, but during the 20 minutes we watched, there were only 10 lookers and no sales. Maybe it was an off night, but sellers are not supposed to outnumber buyers.
Having found the Spanish Steps with ease, I was overly confident that I could find the hotel. Wrong! Our street only ran two blocks up from Piazza Barberini, and one wrong turn took us far around, along dimly lit streets. At one corner, Bettie said, "I'm not walking down any more dark streets." OK, I said, "Let's follow the light." Wrong again. The lighted way led to stairs that descended to Via V. Viento, above where we ate, and another loop to reach our hotel.
Waking up with Roma
I have always enjoyed cities as they awaken, and after a fitful night's sleep, I was up, dressed, and out of the hotel in time to join the early Roman commuters. Eight streets led off Piazza Barberini at different angles, and after counting carefully, I picked the wrong one. I should have taken Via del Tritone to reach Fontana di Trevi, but I walked up Via Delle Quatro Fontane, headed way off course.
After a pleasant stroll up the hill, I came to Via del Quirinale, a major thoroughfare. I turned right and watched cars and scooters zoom past in both directions. There were no stoplights, but policemen stepped out holding up paddles to stop the traffic. Not trusting my Italian for "Help me cross the street," I kept walking until I came to an official building guarded by armed sentries.
I watched the changing of the guard and the arrival of high ranking official who parked, fastened on his pistol belt and was saluted by the officer at the gate. Later, I realized the soldiers were guarding Palazzo del Quirinale, built in 1573 on one of the seven hills of Rome and now the official residence of the President of the Italian Republic.
I kept walking until I reached Via Nazionale where I finally turned back through the tunnel under Quirinale. As I emerged, I saw a sign for Fontana di Trevi, which is hidden among several narrow streets. The fountain was lovely in the early morning light, and there were few tourists to obscure my view. By the time I returned to Piazza Barberini, I had walked two miles and had a good idea of how Rome wakes up.
When Bettie was ready, we went down to la colazione, our first Italian breakfast. The breakfast room was pleasant with a coffee bar along one wall, and the buffet set at a right angle. Beyond the buffet, the room opened enough to accommodate eight small tables.
The buffet included croissants, sweet rolls, ham, cheese, a delicious granola, yogurt, juice and caffè Americano. The food was excellent, and after finishing, we walked out into the small patio that was also set for breakfast. What a joy to awaken in Rome with Tuscany and Venice ahead of us.
Scent of the City
After returning from Venice by train, we walked outside Termini and caught a taxi back to our hotel. The clerk welcomed us and gave us a room with a balcony exactly two stories below our first room. The hotel only had two rooms with balconies, and we were one lucky couple.
We walked up our street and over a block to La Scalla Ristorante. All of the tables on the terrace, built out level over the narrow, sloping street, were full, and we stood at the other side to wait. First, we heard a rumble, and a minute later another. Then we noticed that we were standing above large grates in the street. That's when we caught the unmistakable scent of the Metro, many meters below our feet. Yes, the owner said, we were on top of a ventilation shaft.
At first we wrinkled our noses, but when we were seated, the rumbles and the smell magically disappeared. It was our last night in Rome, and we were determined to enjoy it. For the first time, we ordered full Italian meals, complete with primi, secondi, vino, dolci, e caffè Americani. The pasta was tasty, the meat course well prepared and the desert delicious. As we lingered over our coffee, we celebrated our adventures (and silently thought about our long flight home).
After seeing Bettie to our room, I headed back to the Spanish Steps for the last time. I counted turns, memorized landmarks and arrived about 10:45. There were knots of people on the terraces but no crowds. A couple of people were playing guitars and softly singing American songs. I stood by the railing looking out over the city, until I noticed a street sweeper appear at the bottom of stairs.
Next I saw a pair of polizia begin politely asking people to leave the area. It was 11:00 and time to go. That's when I overheard the following exchange between two young Americans:
She: "Where are you staying tonight?"
He: "In Pensione...."
She: "Are there any rooms for tonight? We don't have a place to sleep."
He: "And you're sitting here on the Spanish Steps?"
She: "We have to finish our alcohol."
He: "Wow! That's some dedication to alcohol."
With that, the group stood up and starting walking up the stairs singing an old Beach Boys tune as the police kept encouraged the stragglers to move along.
I turned left, right and left and reached the hotel in record time. Roma and I were at peace.
