On Seeing Mike Again

Back in Rome today.  Rented a Bici & Baci bike again.  This time they gave me a shinier, prettier one than what I rode the other day.  Now, if only I were shinier and prettier....

Anyway, I don't know whether the riding actually got easier or I was simply more prepared than I was the other day.  The hills, even when they seemed to "come out of nowhere", didn't feel as steep. Also, I could swear it was a few degrees cooler than it was on Sunda.

Today, after spending the morning on the hills, I stopped for an espresso in a bar close to where I'd spend much of the afternoon.  A guy ordered two cappucinos and paid for them.  Then he started to carry them out to sidewalk terrace tables.  One of the bar's owners tried to stop him, but he was about twice the owner's size.  

I stepped in. "Engleesh?"  Europeans generally don't ask for your nationality; the usually ask what language you speak.  "So, "Engleesh" can mean American, Australian or of course British.  What I found funny, later, is that I asked in the same way the bar owner would have asked, with his accent.

The guy seemed to nod and I explained that it costs more to sit at the terrace than it does to stand at the bar.  That is the custom, not only in Italy, but in France and other European countries.  The guy still seemed determined to go out on the terrace until the owner started dialing the police.

Then the customer decided to abandon his capuccinos and walk out the door.  The owner thanked me, even if what I did was of dubious value. 

From there, it was on to the Vatican, where I walked up all the steps to the bell tower.  First you stop at an observation deck near the top of St. Peter's Basilica, but can barely see anything because a chainlink fence with small holes doesn't offer vey many good sightlines.

After that, I followed the crowds to the Vatican Museum for the same reason 99 percent of the people went:  to the ceiling Michelangelo painted on the Sistene Chapel.  I had seen it before, but there was no way I was going to leave Rome without seeing it again, the insane crowds ( worse than the ones boarding the 2 and 3 trains at Times Square during a weekday morning rush hour) and 16 Euro admission (roughly $19 at today's rates) price be damned. 

Now here's something I don't get:  The Sistene is part of a "museum" which means, of course, that they can charge for admission.  On the other hand, we're told that it's a "sacred space", so security guards try--mostly in vain-- to keep crowds quiet.  But they mostly succeed at preventing photography:  I, along with a few other people were told to stash our cameras in our bags. 

So...Is it a place of worship?  Or is it a museum?  Whatever the case, their ban on photography spurs a lot of book, poster and other sales in the Vatican gift shop!

At least I got to the Vatican by bike this time.  I am thankful for small things.

If "F" Is For "Firenze", "M" Is For...

I am going to make yet another confession.  This one may shock, surprise or even appall those of you who know anything about me.

You see...I once took a Gender Studies course.  Now that might seem like a confession in and of itself.   The real "dim dark secret", though, is that I didn't complete it.  

The instructor wasn't the problem:  She was actually very good.  For me, it was this:  The readings seemed very trite.  That is, once I translated them.  No, I wasn't reading French or German theorists.  Rather, I was rendering them from the abstruse, abstract terminology and the tortured sentence structure in which they were written--only to find that the authors were saying things I already knew or that were opinions masquerading as principles.  To paraphrase Gertrude Stein, "There was no there there."

So why was I thinking about that today, as I wound my way through the rooms of the Uffizi Gallery?  Well, one Michelangelo Buonarroti (yes, that Michelangelo) could have taught that class a good part of what they need to know about gender with this painting

The Holy Family with the Infant St. John The Baptist, also known as the Doni Tondo, is Michelangelo's only known panel painting.  Forget about all the little nude boys in the background:  Il Maestro definitely knew a thing or two about women

You guys all know, deep down, that no matter how strong or fast you are, nothing you do compares with the strength women exhibit in giving birth, raising children or doing any number of other things.  I find it humbling, to say the least:  Today, I cannot match the feats of strength or endurance, on my bicycle or otherwise, I could muster in my younger years.  Moreover, I have not given, and cannot give, birth.

So this is a country where a woman can have an arm muscle like Popeye's, after he's eaten his spinach. 

That, in a country where real men once wore skirts:

Side Trip

Yesterday I mentioned that I'm taking a side trip.  I had planned it before I arrived in Rome.  This morning I will be on a train to Florence and will return to Rome tomorrow night.  Since I don't want to carry my laptop with me, I am writing this post before I leaving.  Fear not: I'll be back soon!

Seven Hills--And There Are More!

You have no doubt heard that Rome is built on seven hills.  Trust me:  It isn't hype.  You become very, very aware of that fact when you cycle in this city!

I can now honestly claim that I've climbed all seven by bicyce.  Yesterday I climbed the  with Roberto:  the Aventine, Capitoline, Caelian and Esquiline.  I climbed them all again today, on a bike I rented from Bici & Baci.  I also pedaled up the Palatine, which I have to ascend, at least most of the way, to reach my hotel:  Today I scaled it on a bike. And I got to the Quirinal and Viminal.  

A view from Janiculum Hill.  Yes, I pedaled to see it!

Oh--the hills on which the Vatican is located, as well as the Janiculum and Pincium hills, are not counted among the seven because they are on the right bank of the Tiber, which, at the time Rome was founded, was inhabited by the Etruscans .  The "seven hills" all lie within the area that was surrounded by the Servian Wall, which enclosed the original settlement founded, according to tradition, by Romulus.

Anyway, today I rode mainly for the sake of riding and seeing more of Rome's streets and alleyways close-up. I did stop at the Castel Sant'Angelo and the Vatican, though I didn't wait on the long line to go into the museum.  I will do that later this week, when the weekday crowds--I assume--should be at least somewhat smaller than they were today.

I have to admit that the hills aren't the only challenge of cycling in Rome.  (There are other, smaller, ones in addition to the famous ones I've mentioned.)  Everything you've heard about Roman drivers is true though, to be fair, a few stopped or slowed down to let me go by.  And Roman traffic circles make their Parisian counterparts seem like elements of a Mondrian painting.  

And then there is the heat and sun.  The former, at least, is not accompanied by humidity.  So, by the end of the day, the T-shirt I wore looked like it was covered with white tie-dye swirls from the sweat that evaporated from it.  When I returned my bike, I saw Roberto again.  He, who rides in Rome every day, told me that on days like today, he can "drink five liters of water, easy."  I probably drank at least as much--at least some of it "like a Roman", as he taught me yesterday.  

But I didn't expect the sun to be as intense as it was, given that Rome lies at roughly the same latitude as New York.  (The part of Florida where my parents live lies about a dozen degrees closer to the Equator.)  Perhaps the dry air made it feel so.  Whatever the cause, I don't think I ever before used as much sunscreen as I used today!

I'll be taking a side trip tomorrow and will be back in Rome on Tuesday night.  Then I'll rent the bike again and check out the Pantheon as well as a few other places.

Tours That Brought Me Back

So, again....Why Rome?

I thought it would have remained a rhetorical question after I missed breakfast at the hotel this morning.  It seems that I took in more sun than I'd realized and stayed up later, so I slept until 9:30--something I don't normally do during a trip.

So I went for a walk.  I figured that I needed to get beyond the neighborhood where I'm staying, as much as I like it. The hotel is most of the way up a hill, and the Forum, which I visited yesterday morning, is at the bottom of it:  about a five-minute walk.  And the Colosseum is only about the same distance in another direction.  Although I walked a lot yesterday among the ruins (they cover a lot of ground), I hadn't ventured much beyond my "base", if you will.

Today I started by walking in the other direction, past Termini--the main rail and bus station--and kept going.  I honestly had no idea of where I was, but I knew I was moving away from the tourists.  Finally, after about an hour and a half, I stopped at a cafe for a coffee--an espresso, to be exact.  

Then I did something that, I think, took the baristo by surprise:  I ordered another.  It was that good:  Caffeine jitters be damned, I told myself.  But I didn't experience them, though I was almost giddy for a moment.

Anyway, I continued to walk, guided by the navigational skills of no less than Signoro Colombo, and climbed the hill to the Villa Medici.  It now houses the Academie Francaise of Rome, but the real reason you go that way is for the gardens adjacent to it--and for the views.  In particular, it's at the top of the hill you reach when you climb the Spanish Steps--which I descended.

Even though it seems like half of the human race is in La Piazza Spagna on days like this, it's difficult not to like:  When a staircase is built with such artistry and function and connects two places with different kinds of beauty, well, it's not difficult to see why it would draw all sorts of people.  

By this time, I was feeling better about having come to Rome, but something still felt a bit off.  Then I realized I hadn't taken a pill I normally take in the morning. (It's not psychtropic, at least not technically!)  So I went back to my hotel room--as it turned out, five stops on the Rome Metro A line--and downed it with a bottle of San Benedetto water.

Actually, that trip back to the hotel room wasn't a diversion.  I had scheduled a bike tour for 3 pm, and the shop at which I booked it--one of the three branches of Bici & Baci--is located most of the way down that hill from my hotel to the Forum, near the end of la via Cavour.  

Bici & Baci is an interesting place.  Although they rent bicycles and conduct bicycle tours, their main focus is on Vespas.  In fact, the shop's basement hosts the Vespa Museum.  Perhaps if I really wanted to "do as the Romans do", I would ride one.  But I wanted to stick to pedals, if for no other reason that I haven't driven any sort of motorized vehicle in a long time. 

They couldn't have given me a better guide than Roberto.  He asked what I'd already seen.  When I told him, he said, "OK, we will not do the 'highlights' tour--unless you want that."

Instead, he offered to show me "Rome as a Roman."  Of course!   That meant, among other things, this:

Hundreds of fountains like these are located all over the city.  The water is indeed potable, and people often fill their bottles under them.  But that's something a Roman wouldn't do, Roberto told me. Oddly, most people don't seem to notice the hole at the top of the pipe on all of those  fountains:  To prove his point, we stopped at three, all of which had that feature.  

I wonder whether the Roman water authorities designed them that way and didn't bother to tell the rest of the world. Or, perhaps, that hole serves some other purpose (aeration?)  and someone discovered the easy way to drink from them.

Anyway, on our route, I learned entertaining stories like the one about the fountain the Borgheses supposedly built in one night to show that, although they'd fallen on hard time, they had the financial wherewithal for such things. Why?  Well, a Borghese daughter wanted to marry the son of the family that owned the land on which the fountain was built--the Matteis, who were rich and influential.  But they were reluctant to let him take her hand because they'd heard about their financial straits.  According to legend, the next morning, the Mattei patriarch woke and, much to his surprise, saw the fountain on his land, amidst the houses that ringed the palazzo.

Interestingly, although the Matteis were Roman Catholic--as were nearly all members of noble families at their time--they lived right in the middle of the Ghetto (yes, the original one), the traditional Jewish quarter of the city.  Literally steps away from that fountain, one can find momentos like these:

Although a higher percentage of the Jewish population survived in Rome and in Italy than in other European cities and countries, many Italian Jews ended up in Auschwitz once Mussolini was deposed and the Nazis invaded. Although the Italian Jewish community is smaller, especially in Rome and the North, than it was before the war, it has had a lot of influence in Italian and the world's culture. And, as Roberto--interestingly--pointed out, much of the Roman kitchen (cuisine) in fact originated with the city's Jews.

Back to the Matteis:  They were patrons of the arts.  Among the painters they sponsored was the one who gave us this:

Madonna dei Pellegrini, by Caravaggio

It adorns a portico of the Sant'Agostino chruch, the last stop of our tour.  Roberto made a point of stopping there because he loves that painting, and Caravaggio generally.  So do I.  

Finally, in keeping with Roberto's promise to show me what a Roman knows about his city, he took me up the Aventine hill, which has a garden with the most unique view:

You might think it's just another way of seeing the Vatican. But the park and garden were designed so that the closer to the edge of the hill--and to the dome of the Vatican--you walk (You can't ride in the park.), the smaller it seems.  That is because the approach brings other tall structures into view, which diminishes the perspective of the dome.

Nearby is another interesting view, which I tried to capture:

I wasn't peeping.  I swear!

This peephole is on the gate of the Villa del Priorato di Malta, which--like the Vatican--has extraterratorial status in Rome.  I tried to capture the view of the Vatican which, as Roberto pointed out, makes the gate one of the few places in the world where you can look at three countries (or, at any rate, sovereign territories)--i.e., Italy, Malta and the Vatican--at the same time.

Now tell me:  What else could I have asked for on a day in Rome?


Note: As you can probably tell, I am feeling much better about this city and country than I did yesterday.  Still, I have one complaint:  I am on the slowest internet connection I've experienced in at least 15 years.  My photos are taking forever to upload! So, you won't see as many of them in upcoming posts.  But I'll share some more, if you'd like, after I return home!