Vacation Notes 2015: September 4th: Rome for a Day

What time Rome? How about now? L*** got things started, crawling out of bed at around 6:30AM. It wasn’t long after that that M*** and I had also showered and dressed and readied ourselves to head on down to the hotel dining room for a complimentary breakfast.

As was true regarding the complimentary lunch the day before, the Mercure’s complimentary breakfast was something that they could brag about. Naturally, there was no way to try everything, so there may have been something really awful, but that seems unlikely. The breakfast offerings included scrambled eggs, fried potatoes, assorted lunch meats, fresh fruits, fresh juices, assorted breads, cold cereals, hot cereal, pastries, yogurts, hot chocolate, coffee, tea, and other drinks.

We had previously booked the hotel shuttle for an after breakfast lift to the EUR Fermi metro station. From there we hopped on the train, taking it as far as the Coliseum, one stop shy of the main terminal at Terminus.

Prior to arriving in Rome we had purchase passes for the Hop-on/Hop-off bus tour. As can be surmised by the name they make several stops throughout the city. One of the hop-points was the Coliseum. Our plan was to hop on and ride the tour and ride for at least a single loop. Three days in Rome will not be enough time to see all that we would like to see, we're counting on the tour-bus ride and whimsy to help us to prioritize and select our hop-off points.

However it may seem we didn't plan to spend our entire day wandering aimlessly around the city. We already made a commitment to go on a guided, walking tour of the Coliseum and Palatine Hill. But that wasn't happening until mid-afternoon. Until then the time and the city would be ours.

After completing a circuit, or maybe only half a circuit, of our mini-tour of Rome we opted to get off at the Piazza delia Republica and visit the nearby Basilica Santa Maria degli Angeli.

I don’t know how many people outside of Rome have ever heard of the Basilica Santa Maria degli Angeli (The Basilica of Saint Mary of The Angels and Martyrs). An informal poll of one, me, would indicate nobody.  It is difficult to give even a minor structure—minor when compared to St. Peters Basilica, for instance—such as the Basilica of Saint Mary of The Angels and Martyrs proper justice using nothing more than words. There is a wow factor about these structures that I am unable to convey. (Maybe a more talented writer could get the job done, but you’re stuck with me.) Pictures help—and between Mira’s iPhone, L***’s Android and my Nikon camera we took a few—but even they fail to adequately convey the enormity and majesty that once is confronted in when walking into one if these structures. Still, pictures do remain the best solution, so it is best to let those pictures do the talking with just a reminder to the viewer that no matter what size the photo, real life remains several magnitudes larger.

Of course, just because it is impossible for me to adequately convey the overwhelming nature of standing in the middle of artistry that doesn’t stop me from commenting on what I consider to be some of the more peculiar idiosyncrasies—at least as I see them.  

I don’t know how to properly explain prayer candles to a non-Catholic. If you haven’t grown up with them then the notion that they are somehow sacred may be too impossibly foreign to ever understand. To attempt to convey their meaning—without meaning to come off as cynical—is difficult. I think the overall concept might possibly be compared to the wishing well concept. Candles are placed in a position of worship, usually at the feet of a statue of some significant personage: Jesus, Mary, or any number of saints. The faithful approach the icon, in prayer, usually, but not necessarily for favor, deposit a coin (or paper money) as an offering and then light a candle. I’m not really certain what the significance of the number of candles in front of an icon may be or if there is any significance—beyond the relative popularity of the icon—to the number of candles.

Anyway, back to the candles. Traditionally they’ve been ordinary white candles. However, churches in Rome, at least this one, have entered the 21^st century. Fire, wick, and wax candles have been replaced by LEDs. Perhaps one of the priests goes around at night flipping all the switches to off, making all candles ready for a fresh batch of believers in the morning.

After touring the church, its museum, and the courtyard, with its Zeus-like statue of Galileo, we crossed the street in search of a bank and—we thought—some needed cash. Of course the street that we crossed was actually the aforementioned Piazza delia Republica. This is actually a semi-circle piazza with a fountain at its center—not too uncommon in Rome. This particular fountain features a sculpture of naiads. Pronounce it exactly as I spelled it.  The naiads represented here are: Nymph of the Lakes, the Nymph of the Rivers, the Nymph of the Oceans, and the Nymph of the Underground Waters. I do wish that I had known that without checking Wikipedia. When in Rome I just looked it as another cool statue in the middle of another fountain. I didn’t catch all the detail. Now I have a reason to return.

But, back to crossing the street: We never did find the bank we were looking for. We did find a bank, but for some reason they didn't seem to be interested in the actual handling-of-money side of the business. But the cross of the piazza was not in vain, we did find a place for lunch in the impressive building that forms a semi-circle around the circle that is Republica. I’m not sure what that place is called. It is over the metro stop that carries the name of the Opera house, but it is not the Opera house. I suppose that, in a way, it was really just another garden-variety Roman strip-mall. Please feel to weigh in and correct my error in the comments section.

We finished our non-spectacular lunch several hours before the scheduled beginning of our walking tour. It was at that time that I decided we could easily walk from wherever we were, in a city that we were totally unfamiliar with, to wherever it was we had to be—somewhere near the Coliseum.

As usually happens when I am the person describing events I was right. We had plenty of time. However, what neither I nor expert forecasters could have known was that the weather, which had been nothing but sunshine and heat, was going to take a sudden turn to a degree of ugly that, in the end, really wasn’t so bad.

While on route to the Coliseum, what had been a hot, sunny day with a clear-blue sky turned suddenly gray. The wind started to kick up in short burst here and there and we could hear the thunder off in the distance but getting closer and closer. It wasn't long before raindrops were falling on my head. While I wasn't exactly singing in the rain—does humming count—I was getting wet. With no umbrella to hold forth, or hold over our heads, we sought refuge under the tent of an otherwise outdoor cafe. (Is a place that serves ice cream, food, and alcohol properly called a cafe?)

Taking refuge, and ordering the obligatory gelato seemed like a good idea. Sitting outside while dry seemed like the perfect topping for a good idea. The rain was coming down, but the breeze it produced remained warm. The temperature was still in the mid 80s. But then all hell broke loose. The lightning and thunder suddenly seemed directly overhead and enveloped us. To borrow a cliché, the heavens opened up upon us. The winds drove the torrential rains left, right, and under the tent, to our table and beyond. Our gelato had become endangered. We retreated deeper into the bowls of the café only to discover that there were no deeper bowls in this café . It really was kind of shallow.

There is an amazing thing in Rome, opportunistic capitalist are everywhere. Try to take a selfie and a dozen vendors will show up each trying to sell you a better selfie-wand. As soon as the first drops hit pavement the streets were filled with a new wave of vendors each offering umbrellas and plastic ponchos for sale. Who carries this stuff around in such quantities on a sunny day in a Mediterranean region, especially when the forecast was for all-day sunshine? And what happened to all the selfie-wands? 

Luckily, back when we could still watch the rain from the comfort of our seats under the café tent, L*** completed a negotiation with one of the street entrepreneurs that netted us one reasonably priced umbrella.

The storm's zenith only lasted a few minutes but we still had a long walk, in a lighter but still steady rain, to reach the Coliseum. L***, was able to loosen two plastic ponchos from the tight grip of a street vendor who likely saw that his market collapsing as quickly as the clouds could separate. We donned our colorful ponchos and started out in the light rain towards the gathering spot of our rain or shine (that's how you say no refunds in Italian) walking tour.

While waiting for our tour to begin we ran into a couple from Denver. M*** was, naturally, wearing some of her Seahawks colors (shoes). Because of her propensity for Seahawks gear we did meet a lot people from the Seattle area, including people from our neighborhood, whom we had not previously met.

But back to the nice couple from Denver. They were on what sounded like a mad-cap, Europe-in-a-day tour. But, you know, Broncos fans, what more needs to be said? They seemed like nice people nevertheless.

Our tour began at the Coliseum. We were able to by-pass the entry line, walk past the pickpockets and enter into the relative safety of the Coliseum. Once inside we us men could remove our hands from our pockets reverting to only normal protection to our wallets. The women—at least such women as still carry such things in the 21st century—could loosen their grip on their purses.

We were led through the Coliseum by our seemingly knowledgeable—compared to me—guide. The fact of the day that stuck with many: most, if not all of the Christians in the Coliseum were there as spectators; no problems! Across the street, however, not so lucky.

And across the street our tour did continue,  up Palatine Hill through the Arco di Constantino, the Arco di Tito, Palitino, Cirrco Massimo and more.

After the tour—a four hour tour that I allotted less than 100 words to—we began the trek back to the Terminus and our train(Metro) back to EUR Fermi.

Along the way we stopped for a genuine Italian meal—of course, if served in Rome, a hotdog could be considered Italian meal. However, we did go a little more traditional with pizza, a salad, and a local beer (for me) and water.

We arrived at the metro station a little early. Rather than wait for a shuttle at EUR Fermi we opted to stop at a place that, while not on any tourist map, sounded as though it might be interesting.

The stop was at the Basilica Santa Paola station and it was as unimpressive as is probably possible in Rome. Upon exiting the terminal entry we immediately came upon a McDonalds. There may have been a little Italian influence as it did feature outdoor, rooftop dining.

But we resisted any urge to stop at McDonalds. Actually there wasn’t any urge to stop at McDonalds so resistance was far from futile. We trudged onward towards our destination, the Basilica Santa Paola.

I’ll say this for the Basilica; it wasn’t covered in graffiti. Given the neighborhood it was in, and the fact that it looked like a prison, it probably should have been covered in graffiti. That it was also fortified like a prison probably acted as a deterrent.

Without any cause for a pause we returned to the station to catch the next train back towards our hotel. This was when we found out the truth about Rome’s metro tickets. When they say that a ticket is good for 180 minutes—and they do say that—what they mean is that they’re good for 180 minutes unless you get off of the train, or bus. At that point they become worthless.

In hindsight this isn’t too dissimilar from the Munich or Paris systems in that they allow for continued forward progress. But who has hindsight when you’re so busy looking forward? Nevertheless, a kindly metro employee recognized us as stupid American tourist and allowed to re-board through an exit gate for the rendezvous with our hotel van.

For tomorrow we plan an early departure for Naples. It is the birthplace of my grandparents, Mira’s great-grandparents, and could feature more in-laws for L***. Sadly, there is no longer any communication between families in the USA and Italy. So, while Naples will be interesting for many reasons there will not be any sort of family reunion.