When In Rome (Day 2)
The more I travel, the more I realize how difficult it is to record what I see. Right
now it is 11:30 PM and I am on a bus to London's Stansted Airport, where in 9
hours I will get on a plane and fly to Dublin, Ireland. I've spent the weekend
here in merry ole England and it has been absolutely brilliant (as bloaks here
might say), but since I still haven't even finished my account of Rome, I feel I
must do so now. I will probably be much more brief than is appropriate for such
an amazing city, but time is of the essence, and I want to at least try to capture
a fragment of what I've experienced.
Ok, so, on Saturday, October 18th, I woke up and joined Mary-Kate and Co. for
a simple cereal breakfast at the hostel. They had arrived late to Rome the
previous evening, transforming my solo ventures into a full-blown group
outing. I was to spend the next 48 hours with 6 girls – something I both looked
forward to and was wisely cautious of. I escorted them to the aforementioned
Santa Maggiore church, since it was so close to our residence. We "oo'ed" and
"ah'ed," and took some more pictures; however, I was ready to press on because
now, with all of us present, I could unleash my inner-tourist and head to the
places to see in Rome. First stop, the Coliseum.
After denying three solicitors attempting to sell us guided tours we came to the
conclusion that we really didn't know what we were doing and went ahead and
bought one. It was 20 euro for a tour of the Coliseum and adjacent Palatine Hill,
plus we got to skip all of the lines, and the tour was to begin right away. The
price was definitely worth it, simply jumping ahead of the ridiculously long lines
might even have been worth the cost. Our tour guide was a funny Roman guy
who made sure to pay extra special attention to the 6 young college-aged
American girls.
The structure itself was great. I mean, it's big, it's old, it's intricate, it's
impressive. Imagining the thousands of people slain within in its arena is
macabre, but definitely something which every visitor does (myself included).
And, as with many other ancient buildings in the city, it is hard not to appreciate
the complexity of in. Underneath the main floor of the stadium, you can see the
hidden passages that held gladiators and beasts, all raised to center stage by a
series of lifts.
After this, we took a trip to the Palatine Hill, the mythological setting of Rome's
founding. I forget the details, but it involves Romulus (or maybe it was Remus)
who got sent down a river Moses style only to be saved by a "she-wolf" who
nursed the child to health on the hill. That man-wolf child founded Rome – as
the story goes (I'm probably way off). Aside from this piece of pseudo-history is
the undeniable fact that years later, the post-Julius Caesar leaders of the city decided
to affirm their status by building lavish palaces on the picturesque mound,
symbolizing their unquestionable authority as if to say, "I live where Rome
began. I'm kind of a big deal."
Again, the ruins are difficult to interpret on your own, but thankfully a tour
guide helped us envision the structures as they were. Most of it just looks like
brick walls, but at one point, every square inch of these buildings was coated in
marble, which was later stolen and moved to Vatican City. One particular artifact
stood out to me. It was the pinky toe of a statue, as big as my torso, and was
the only remaining portion of a once full statue. Imagining the size of the full
scale original blew my mind a little bit, and I began to understand that 1) Roman
emperors were completely full of themselves and 2) Their home décor was big,
bold and extravagant. If only I could have seen the original.
From here we worked our way to the Circus Maximus, which was at one time the
site for Roman chariot races. (Unlike as portrayed in the movie Gladiator,
chariot events took place outside of the walls of the Coliseum). There really isn't
too much to see now except a big field of hardly living grass, but the original
dirt circle is still present, and probably goes around a half a mile.
After a lunch of pasta and wine, I left the girls to be on my own, not wanting to
revisit the fountain and steps that were their intended destinations. Instead, I
worked my way to the Piazza ? which is extremely well know for its architecture
and its market. After this, I moved north to the Castle ?.
The Castle was originally built as a mosoleum for the Emperor Hadrian.
However, years later, in the 14th century, the Popes and leaders of the church
decided that this real estate was too good to go to a dead guy, and decided to
build beautiful apartments on top of it. I walked through these, all caked in
gold, sculpted ceilings and fantastic Christian art, before making my way to the
roof terrace that overlooks the city. It was there that I enjoyed the second best
view of Rome, now closer to St. Peter's Church.
On my own and moving with haste, I arrived at the Piazza ? which basks in the
later afternoon sun and is dominated by a huge Egyptian obelisk at its center.
The obelisk is over 4,000 years old and has perfectly preserved hieroglyphics on
it. Oddly enough, there was also an Italian army exhibit taking place that day in
the square. I saw a ton of people in uniform as well as some large tanks and
helicopters, coolly situated for interested attendees. Walking out of the plaza, I
was forced out of the street by an oncoming barrage of marching solders, some
with instruments keeping the beat for their disciplined feet. I was ready to have
dinner again though, so I didn't wait around.
That night, after dinner, I found myself forced to play the role of father, or
jealous male friend, for most of the evening. The seven of us headed out to
drink wine and find a club, which we did successfully, although I assumed the
role of protector. The thing about Italian guys is, well, they are creepy. Many
that we encountered seemed to have little to no respect for women, and
behaved accordingly. Unfortunately the girls I was with were stared at, cat-
called, barked at, sweated on and partially groped. When this happened, I would then
have to intervene, insult, or threaten a confrontation with the transgressor.
Fortunately we had no serious problems, although my respect for the Italian
approach to romance has somewhat soured. The night was fun though; we met
a waiter who gave us a heads up, "Go to Anima, say Otsi sent you," which we
did. Anima turned out to be a small, but swanky place with cheap drinks and a
good atmosphere. Everyone had fun.
Sunday was designated to Vatican City and St. Peter's Basilica. (I'm getting tired
so my descriptions are getting lazy, and I sincerely apologize). The main piazza
is massive. An obelisk rises from the center that was once used as a turning
post as the Circus of Caligula where St. Peter was martyred. Sculptures of saints
abound on the roof of pillared ceilings. The church stands in the center and
draws one toward it.
We went in. It is the biggest church in the world. Michelangelo's Pieta, or the
sculpture of Mary holding a dying Jesus is on the right when you walk in. In the
center of the sanctuary are four posts, rising up to a big canopy, where only the
Pope can celebrate mass. Underneath this is the tomb of Peter (so I'm told). I
know I've said most churches here are the same once you've seen one, but this place
is different. Maybe it's similar, but it's massive and gorgeous. Check out the
pictures.
After this we got food, went for a walk, and Mary Kate and I found time to go to
Villa Borghese (the huge park) on our own. Having not seen each other in 4
months, this was pretty cool for me, and I was glad that we got along so well.
We caught up and hung out for my last few hours in the city, after which, I got
on a train and headed back for Milan.
I'm in the airport in England now. It's getting late so I'm going to try my best to
fall asleep on the hard linoleum floor. England was fantastic too, and tomorrow
morning I will do my best to recap it for all of you. Once again, sorry for the
lazy conclusion to my Rome trip, but I'm falling behind and need to work
quickly to catch up.
And finally, happy belated birthday to my main man Mitch. Sorry for the delay,
but don't worry, I'll buy you something nice.
G'night United States.
now it is 11:30 PM and I am on a bus to London's Stansted Airport, where in 9
hours I will get on a plane and fly to Dublin, Ireland. I've spent the weekend
here in merry ole England and it has been absolutely brilliant (as bloaks here
might say), but since I still haven't even finished my account of Rome, I feel I
must do so now. I will probably be much more brief than is appropriate for such
an amazing city, but time is of the essence, and I want to at least try to capture
a fragment of what I've experienced.
Ok, so, on Saturday, October 18th, I woke up and joined Mary-Kate and Co. for
a simple cereal breakfast at the hostel. They had arrived late to Rome the
previous evening, transforming my solo ventures into a full-blown group
outing. I was to spend the next 48 hours with 6 girls – something I both looked
forward to and was wisely cautious of. I escorted them to the aforementioned
Santa Maggiore church, since it was so close to our residence. We "oo'ed" and
"ah'ed," and took some more pictures; however, I was ready to press on because
now, with all of us present, I could unleash my inner-tourist and head to the
places to see in Rome. First stop, the Coliseum.
After denying three solicitors attempting to sell us guided tours we came to the
conclusion that we really didn't know what we were doing and went ahead and
bought one. It was 20 euro for a tour of the Coliseum and adjacent Palatine Hill,
plus we got to skip all of the lines, and the tour was to begin right away. The
price was definitely worth it, simply jumping ahead of the ridiculously long lines
might even have been worth the cost. Our tour guide was a funny Roman guy
who made sure to pay extra special attention to the 6 young college-aged
American girls.
The structure itself was great. I mean, it's big, it's old, it's intricate, it's
impressive. Imagining the thousands of people slain within in its arena is
macabre, but definitely something which every visitor does (myself included).
And, as with many other ancient buildings in the city, it is hard not to appreciate
the complexity of in. Underneath the main floor of the stadium, you can see the
hidden passages that held gladiators and beasts, all raised to center stage by a
series of lifts.
After this, we took a trip to the Palatine Hill, the mythological setting of Rome's
founding. I forget the details, but it involves Romulus (or maybe it was Remus)
who got sent down a river Moses style only to be saved by a "she-wolf" who
nursed the child to health on the hill. That man-wolf child founded Rome – as
the story goes (I'm probably way off). Aside from this piece of pseudo-history is
the undeniable fact that years later, the post-Julius Caesar leaders of the city decided
to affirm their status by building lavish palaces on the picturesque mound,
symbolizing their unquestionable authority as if to say, "I live where Rome
began. I'm kind of a big deal."
Again, the ruins are difficult to interpret on your own, but thankfully a tour
guide helped us envision the structures as they were. Most of it just looks like
brick walls, but at one point, every square inch of these buildings was coated in
marble, which was later stolen and moved to Vatican City. One particular artifact
stood out to me. It was the pinky toe of a statue, as big as my torso, and was
the only remaining portion of a once full statue. Imagining the size of the full
scale original blew my mind a little bit, and I began to understand that 1) Roman
emperors were completely full of themselves and 2) Their home décor was big,
bold and extravagant. If only I could have seen the original.
From here we worked our way to the Circus Maximus, which was at one time the
site for Roman chariot races. (Unlike as portrayed in the movie Gladiator,
chariot events took place outside of the walls of the Coliseum). There really isn't
too much to see now except a big field of hardly living grass, but the original
dirt circle is still present, and probably goes around a half a mile.
After a lunch of pasta and wine, I left the girls to be on my own, not wanting to
revisit the fountain and steps that were their intended destinations. Instead, I
worked my way to the Piazza ? which is extremely well know for its architecture
and its market. After this, I moved north to the Castle ?.
The Castle was originally built as a mosoleum for the Emperor Hadrian.
However, years later, in the 14th century, the Popes and leaders of the church
decided that this real estate was too good to go to a dead guy, and decided to
build beautiful apartments on top of it. I walked through these, all caked in
gold, sculpted ceilings and fantastic Christian art, before making my way to the
roof terrace that overlooks the city. It was there that I enjoyed the second best
view of Rome, now closer to St. Peter's Church.
On my own and moving with haste, I arrived at the Piazza ? which basks in the
later afternoon sun and is dominated by a huge Egyptian obelisk at its center.
The obelisk is over 4,000 years old and has perfectly preserved hieroglyphics on
it. Oddly enough, there was also an Italian army exhibit taking place that day in
the square. I saw a ton of people in uniform as well as some large tanks and
helicopters, coolly situated for interested attendees. Walking out of the plaza, I
was forced out of the street by an oncoming barrage of marching solders, some
with instruments keeping the beat for their disciplined feet. I was ready to have
dinner again though, so I didn't wait around.
That night, after dinner, I found myself forced to play the role of father, or
jealous male friend, for most of the evening. The seven of us headed out to
drink wine and find a club, which we did successfully, although I assumed the
role of protector. The thing about Italian guys is, well, they are creepy. Many
that we encountered seemed to have little to no respect for women, and
behaved accordingly. Unfortunately the girls I was with were stared at, cat-
called, barked at, sweated on and partially groped. When this happened, I would then
have to intervene, insult, or threaten a confrontation with the transgressor.
Fortunately we had no serious problems, although my respect for the Italian
approach to romance has somewhat soured. The night was fun though; we met
a waiter who gave us a heads up, "Go to Anima, say Otsi sent you," which we
did. Anima turned out to be a small, but swanky place with cheap drinks and a
good atmosphere. Everyone had fun.
Sunday was designated to Vatican City and St. Peter's Basilica. (I'm getting tired
so my descriptions are getting lazy, and I sincerely apologize). The main piazza
is massive. An obelisk rises from the center that was once used as a turning
post as the Circus of Caligula where St. Peter was martyred. Sculptures of saints
abound on the roof of pillared ceilings. The church stands in the center and
draws one toward it.
We went in. It is the biggest church in the world. Michelangelo's Pieta, or the
sculpture of Mary holding a dying Jesus is on the right when you walk in. In the
center of the sanctuary are four posts, rising up to a big canopy, where only the
Pope can celebrate mass. Underneath this is the tomb of Peter (so I'm told). I
know I've said most churches here are the same once you've seen one, but this place
is different. Maybe it's similar, but it's massive and gorgeous. Check out the
pictures.
After this we got food, went for a walk, and Mary Kate and I found time to go to
Villa Borghese (the huge park) on our own. Having not seen each other in 4
months, this was pretty cool for me, and I was glad that we got along so well.
We caught up and hung out for my last few hours in the city, after which, I got
on a train and headed back for Milan.
I'm in the airport in England now. It's getting late so I'm going to try my best to
fall asleep on the hard linoleum floor. England was fantastic too, and tomorrow
morning I will do my best to recap it for all of you. Once again, sorry for the
lazy conclusion to my Rome trip, but I'm falling behind and need to work
quickly to catch up.
And finally, happy belated birthday to my main man Mitch. Sorry for the delay,
but don't worry, I'll buy you something nice.
G'night United States.
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