Goodbye

We were not leaving for the airport till 4.30. We lay around and then packed. When we reduced our bags to two carry-on sized bags, a small backpack and a shoulder bag we thought we had cut our luggage to the bone. Regular readers will know Lyn posted some of it home. Let me say I still had clothing I never wore. Next trip we'll do even better.

We went on a last minute minute shopping expedition. I find it difficult to comment charitably but apparently it was both necessary and great fun for half of our relationship. We paid a last minute visit to our 'local' church here in Rome. Santa Maria in Trastavere is ... If you you ever come to Rome, make the effort to cross the river.

Last view of our Rome apartment with duck.

This is the sign of our 'local' restaurant in Trastavere. We ate here often. It appears to be owned by a cat. I'll let you google a translation of the name.

There were buskers in the square. Italy has the best buskers. My personal favourite was the two guys playing 'Bolero' on a tuba and a clarinet in Bologna. The beggars are now personally recognisable and I can recite their pitches. Time to go home.

We were collected by our driver for another memorable drive to Fiumicino. Everybody drove as if penis size was at stake. 

The flight to Dubai was brightened by being surrounded by Chinese. In the pre-flight Captain's announcement he proudly stated that between them the Emirates crew spoke 14 languages. It turned out that one of the languages they didn't speak was Chinese. What ensued was a joy to watch.

We landed in Dubai where it was hot and sunny. In fact the forecast for Dubai is always hot and sunny. The arrival was made visually splendid by the numerous police/military in the customs hall. Their uniform included a snappy beret, a sort of aquamarine safari suit and lots of gold braid. I wanted to take a picture but they had guns.

We checked into our room. Then we went ... shopping .... and overindulged on fast food with meat and salt. I discovered something curious. There is a Borders bookshop in Dubai. Something else odd - there is no History section in the Borders bookshop. This poses a number of questions. Why? Is History banned? Is there no demand?

In Rome the Trevi Fountain was closed for renovations. Does this mean we will not return?  I don't know.

However, I think we might be back. Lyn is already researching a new way to fly to Europe. Via Japan perhaps ...

All roads lead to Piazza Navona

I don't know why everybody goes to Piazza Navona - perhaps because it is free.

We walked through it on the way home. There were we tourists, buskers, painters, people dressed as ancient Roman soldiers, people touting restaurants, restaurants ... the only Rome regulars missing were the beggars. Perhaps the beggars have learned that hanging out around churches and trains is better for business. It makes sense. Churches put some people into a more generous state of mind if they haven't blown their change on candles. On trains people can't get away! 

In contrast the other places we visited were very quiet. First we went to Ara Pacis, the reconstruction of Augustus' Altar of Peace. The main attraction there was a temporary exhibition on food supply in Ancient Rome that I was keen to see. (Yes ... I know what you are thinking ... travel with Leon is just full of thrills.) The cost of entry would have fed every beggar in the district. The only others there were German school groups listening attentively. 

Then we walked to the Palazzo Altemps which is a major sculpture museum. It was beautiful and even quieter - it mustn't be on the German curriculum.

Of course a major reason for keeping sculpture inside is the pigeons.

Almost every day we walk past the local secondary school. It always sounds like the inmates are rioting. At first we said, "It must be recess". Then we realised that recess appears to be permanent.

We leave for the airport late tomorrow afternoon. The bad news is that we won't be back home till late Sunday night. I am hanging out for a meat pie.

Ostia

Up until today this had been an Italy trip almost completely free of ancient Romans. Today the empire struck back.

We demonstrated our skill with Roman public transport by catching the tram to Trastevere, the bus to Pyramide and the train to Ostia Antica. Little known now, Ostia was the port of ancient Rome at the mouth of the River Tiber. It flourished for hundreds of years but the course of the river changed, the port silted up and Ostia became an abandoned mosquito infested malarial swamp gradually disappearing in the mud. (One of those mosquitoes quickly sampled Lyn.) Today the archaeologists have recovered what is left of Ostia and it is pretty wonderful. 

Crossing the highway bridge from station to town we were reminded of the disadvantages of living in a country where smoking is still fairly popular. Almost all the litter you see here is cigarette packets and butts.

Once in Ostia it was quiet compared to Pompeii. The tour groups that were present were almost all German and, as everybody knows, rules and knowledge are serious matters to Germans. The site is huge and (unlike Pompeii) you can wander and explore. This gives time for quiet reflection. Even Lyn enjoyed it.

I found Themistokles in the little museum.

On the other hand, the place is clearly not being cared for as you might expect. This is an example of the "protection" provided for a floor mosaic.

There was a sign at the entrance explaining the difficulties and expense of maintaining such a massive site. True. But really! Is plastic sheeting or a tin roof expensive in Italy? One of the glories of Ostia is a huge collection of mosaics. They were on display, in situ, open to the elements. ("Well at least tourists can see them" you might be thinking.) Actually - no - they were half obscured by dirt and drifts of pine needles. One man in two hours with a leaf blower could have solved the problem. Sometimes I despair of these people. (Every time I catch myself wishing that the Germans were running the other bits of Europe I remind myself it has been tried - twice.) 

On the whole though, it was a wonderful day, although Lyn's reserves of stamina had been lowered by exhausting shopping excursions on previous days.

P.S.

Reading over this post I realise I sound like some arrogant tourist criticising the foreigners. Perhaps I need to head home soon for a bracing ride on our embarrassing public transport while looking at streets decorated with fast food litter and beer bottles. Quick cure.

Villa D'Este

The Villa D'Este is in Tivoli, a town in the mountains about 50 minutes by train from Rome. We caught the bus to Tiburtina Station and the train to Tivoli. The region is beautiful with waterfalls and hilltop villages. The place is World Heritage classified but it is a bit hard to say what it is classified as ...

It was a Renaissance villa and garden built in large part by plundering stone and artwork from the nearby villa of Emperor Hadrian and redirecting springs in wonderful ways. Then it became overgrown and the Romantics got all romantic about it. And then they eventually restored it in the 20th century.

Anyway - the frescoes were faded and dull but the garden was a thing of wonder. It isn't so much a garden with water features but water features with a garden.

We enjoyed our explore. There was a train back at 3.11 and every 40 minutes thereafter. Lyn surprised me by setting a cracking pace back to the station, ignoring the many shopping opportunities en route. Then the explanation came to me. This would maximise shopping opportunities in Rome on our return! Sure enough, we hopped off the bus on Via Del Corso and purchases were made. (On the train journey from Tivoli to Rome the only people awake in our carriage were the guard and Lyn. The guard, because doing absolutely nothing on a train requires eternal vigilance, and Lyn, because shopping was in prospect.)

The only other notable feature of the day was that Lyn was delighted by the names of a supermarket and hotel.

We have always enjoyed Italian car spotting, particularly the tiny ones. Back in Trastavere we saw this.

Tromp l'oeil

Today we had a "quiet day". This means Lyn shopped. Apparently my presence is required for this activity. Apparently it was a successful day. Two churches were visited. We liked Santa Maria Sopra Minerva where we saw Michelangelo's "The Redeemer". (If you are reading this Josh, you'll be delighted to know that Christ is contrapposto. The rest of you can look it up.) Elefantino is still carrying his Egyptian obelisk. What is it with obelisks and the Renaissance? Why does the nice elephant have to carry the obelisk?

At one point we had a craving for salt so where do you get it? Yep - our moment of shared shame.

In the Church of Saint Ignatius Lyn got to light a candle and pray. I felt nauseous from looking at the tromp l'oeil ceilings. Instead of building a dome, the Jesuits hired a painter to paint the ceiling to look as if it had high vaults and a dome. (Just a touch Jesuitical methinks.) The reason was that it was cheaper. The Jesuits had run out of money. I can relate to that.

LivioAndronico

Quo Vadis?

This was a beautiful day in Rome after yesterday's rain but I cannot say I enjoyed it.

It began well enough. Lyn went to mass in Santa Maria in Trastevere and I did the shopping. Then we replenished funds at an ATM and successfully caught Bus 118. The plan was to do some gentle walking along the ancient Roman road leading south of Rome - the Via Appia. This area is chockers with ruins and on Sunday is usually a beautiful place to explore and stroll. 

The bus was full of tourists and German school students with similar plans. However, according to my smartphone we were going the wrong way - for a very long time. "Where are we going?" I wondered. Bi-lingual tourists established that there was some sort of marathon and the bus route had been changed. A 15 minute trip became 45 and when we eventually reached the end of this journey we were 5 kilometres from where we planned. The bus, we established, was not heading back for 3 and a half hours. The cause of this debacle was a marathon or something. Telling passengers what was going on was beyond the driver. He seemed thoroughly pissed off.

We made enquiries locally and learned we could walk the Via Appia back towards Rome and end up where we should have started. Rather than waste the day, we set off. If we hadn't been a little anxious it would have been a pleasant walk. The fact was though, we didn't really know where we were going.

Romantic old ruin standing next to the tomb of Cecilia Metella

We found the happiest man in Rome flogging bread rolls in a van and so we didn't starve to death. We eventually reached the bus stops at the end of our walk in the area of the catacombs. We waited for a long time at the bus stop at one of the catacombs. There were several others waiting on the side of a busy road. Bus 118 was the only bus that stopped at these stops, but Bus 118 never appeared. A German tour group arrived. They placed themselves in front of those who had been patiently waiting. They also placed themselves on the road. To others, the thought of such discourtesy and danger from traffic would have been daunting, but they occupied the road like their forefathers had occupied sundry other European sites.

My smartphone said 118 wasn't coming so we left the others and walked North. 

To make a long story short, we walked all the way home to Trastavere. We were not pleased. I've no idea what happened to the Germans. I wish them well.

On the way we passed a small church which marks the spot where legend says Peter ran into Jesus. This was long after the crucifixion and resurrection of course. Peter was in Rome and decided to disguise himself and leave the city. He was walking down the Via Appia when he saw Jesus.

And as he went forth from the city, he saw the Lord entering into Rome. And when he saw him, he said: "Lord, where are you going?" 

Now I assume Peter would have spoken to Jesus in Aramaic, but the legend has him speaking in Latin, "Domine, Quo Vadis?" Anyway, Jesus was going to Rome and Peter took it as a sign that he should turn around and go back too.  Nobody that day caught Bus 118 so I suppose I shouldn't complain.

Miracles

I cannot quite believe it. Today it rained all day in Rome. We are usually blessed with wonderful weather when we travel but not today. Out came our attractive El-Cheapo ponchos and we even bought two fold up umbrellas. We still got drenched and my smartphone struggled to navigate because touch screens don't work when wet. The strangest sight was the way the street pedlars abandoned their usual trades and suddenly produced cartons of cheap umbrellas and ponchos. The saddest thing was the poor guys who flog "skip the line tours" to the Roman Forum, and Colosseum. Their script never varied despite the fact that there was clearly no line. All the tourists had fled to the nearest edifice with a roof.

We eventually made it to the Church of St Peter in Chains. This boasts two reasons to visit. The first is Michalangelo's Moses. Moses is sitting but he has a 'thousand yard stare' and seems ready to leap into action. Lyn said, "I really like his feet." I told Lyn the story of St Peter's chains. These relics were in two halves but miraculously joined themselves back together. Or so the story goes. I am usually careful not to snort when I tell these stories for fear of Lyn delivering a homily along the lines of Hamlet, "There are more things in heaven and earth than in your philosophy..."

From there we marched across the city and found lunch and wine. Then we did a lap of the Pantheon because it is awesome and headed for Castell Sant'Angelo. 

On the way I saw a gelateria with a board out the front covered in reviews saying 'eat ice cream from this place'. I bought the smallest cone, because I am a restrained person and because the name of the street was fairly ominous. Ummmmmm

Castell Sant'Angelo is what is left of of the tomb of Emperor Hadrian. The Romans and Popes found various other uses for it over the years and now it is a museum. It got its name because, during a plague, Peter the Great led a penitential parade. Everybody noticed the Archangel Michael on top of the castle and Michael miraculously stopped the plague. Apparently during such group visions it is possible to tell which archangel is stopping the plague. (Small snort.) Anyway, the views are great from the top. 

We came home, had a nap, and then I followed another miracle online as the Wallabies beat Wales, the stats, and the always obnoxious Craig Joubert! 

Familiarity breeds relaxation

 Our bus to Bologna Centrale to catch the Rome train never made it. Police redirected traffic and our bewildered driver pulled over and variously outraged passengers abandoned their ride. The bus driver said the station was about half a kilometre to the left. We set out. With a little help we approached the station to see the reason for our surprise walk. A student demonstration appeared - Bologna the Red! The students were demanding more compassionate treatment of refugees. There is a right wing political movement called Fortezza Europa and these guys were definitely against it.

We made the station in plenty of time and caught the fast train to Rome. We had been upgraded to Premium class which meant free stuff and even more comfortable seats. 

In Rome Bus H from Roma Terminal to Trastevere was jam packed enough to make Lyn resolve to book a transfer to the airport next Friday. It isn't just the crowd, it is the knowledge that pickpockets frequent this sort of environment.

As the bus crossed the Tiber we both felt better. We knew where were were. Trastevere's cobbles were murderous on our luggage wheels but we found our way back to Via dei Salumi with a little help from the Samsung 5.

Our landlady Carla met us there and everything is the same! The same 3 keys, the same welcoming cake, the same bed, the same trattoria and this iPad even remembered the internet password. Tension fell away. We walked to the same ATM and then to the same supermarket.

I have no idea what we are doing tomorrow and I don't care. We feel welcome and safe.

Contro la fortezza Europa!

Milan

After much Skyping we were not really up for an early start but the fast train to Milan would not wait. Lyn beat me at cards on the way. It went downhill from there.

Milan Centrale is hugely impressive.  

It is also supposed to have a tourist information centre. After 40 minutes of confusion there proved to be no such place. Eventually I bought the day public transport passes at a tabacchi. Milan is too big for walking.  (And I have a sore toe.)

In the absence of tram or bus route maps Lyn had to use the underground Metro all day. This is, as people who know Lyn are aware,  a crowded and highly efficient system especially designed to entomb her in a tin box in a dark tunnel. I owe her big time for allowing this to happen. She behaved magnificently.

We went to Milan's wickedly pointy cathedral and admired the scale of it and the stained glass. 

Then we headed for Da Vinci's  'Last Supper' and grabbed a quick lunch on the way. It turned out to be a solemnly impressive ghost of a painting. We had to see this as part of a guided tour. The guide then tooķ us to Castle Sforza but we didn't care about her stories, we just wanted to sit in the shade. 

Finally we were restored by a drink and returned to the Duomu piazza.  Everything seemed to be heavily guarded by the military. We strolled through the grand shopping mall and then I climbed to the roof of the cathedral. I saw all the marble frippery up close and took my second selfie.

After our 4th Metro trip of the day we are now heading back to Bologna. Thinking about the amazing architecture of Milan, it seems to me to sum up the three things Italy does extraordinarily well: railways, shopping and churches.

Tomorrow - Rome.