It is Thursday in Rome, with rain off and on from rain clouds that scuttle across the sky. When there is a break in the clouds, rays of sunshine break through and light up the buildings, people, monuments. Tonight, in the Plaza Navona, there was lightning in the north and sun to the south. Cameras were clicking in the beautiful light.
As I am typing this, a group of young men and women are skipping below my window, singing "We're off to see the wizard...because, because, because, because, be-CAUSE, because of the wonderful things he does..." I hear their voices trail off toward Plaza Navona.
I slept poorly last night, and woke up grumpy. On the bus to meet Iliana for coffee, she called and asked if we could meet an hour later, and in a different location. I told her, "Another day, perhaps" because I 1) didn't want to waste more of the morning waiting for her, and 2) I was grumpy.
To solve my mood, I visited the Capitoline Museum and Piazza del Campidoglio. The Capitoline Hill is one of Rome's seven hills. The site of the main square was, in ancient Rome, a religious center. The remains of a massive temple to Jupiter are still on the sight, and one can touch some of the foundation stones! There is also a small fountain there from which I filled my water bottle, still hoping to find the Fountain of Youth.
The Piazza itself was designed by Michelangelo in the 1500's, and was unique at the time. One has to walk up a long set of broad steps to get to the Piazza, which makes me wonder why, if Michelangelo was such a smart guy, he didn't manage to put some benches in the Piazza, and maybe a coffee & chocolate croissant stand (remember, I was grumpy). A reproduction of the equine statue of Marcus Aurelius (Roman Emperor, 161-180 AD) stands in the square, with the original being the museum. This statue is so powerful, so full of energy, that it feels as though the horse will come barrelling off his pedestal. As stirrups hadn't been invented yet in Europe, it is hard to imagine Marcus A. managing to stay on that charger.
The Capitoline Museum is the oldest art museum known, and established before Columbus failed to find the Far East. The Greek and Roman sculptures are sumptuous, but after awhile it feels a little bit like being at an all-you-can-eat smorgasbord. I...just...can't...process...one...more...statue...
My favorite thing in the museum, in fact, was a Roman Chariot. I didn't know that chariots were made of wood! The body of the chariot was made of soaked and bent bands of wood, dove-tailed together around a semi-circular base. The wood of the chariot, in this case, was covered with a thin brass patina of intricately carved brass figures re-enacting battle scenes. Even the wheels and axles were wooden, and showed marks from the wood-workers chisels.
Part of the museum is the Tabularium, a separate building which housed the ancient scrolls of Roman laws. The Tabularium is perched high on the hill, with wonderful views into the Forum. The path to the overlook is poorly marked, and involves many steps, so I pretty much had the place to myself. It was raining, but the sun shown patchily, settling on the Temple of the Vestal Virgins and Caesar's Tomb. Tour groups with scores of open umbrellas paraded below through the Forum. I am redundant to say that the moment was magical, but I'm saying it anyway. The moment was magical.
I spent 5 hours at the museum, rested in a park overlooking the Forum, then made my way to my bus, and to home. I was exhausted, and must have looked it because a woman gave her up seat to me on the bus. And the absence of an elevator in my building just about had me sleeping on the first-floor landing.
After my nap, I went to the grocery store (List: yogurt, wine. Short list). Then, after double-checking my morning bus stops. I strolled to Plaza Navona. As I said, the light was beautiful. It was raining lightly, but still people were out and about with umbrellas. Artists had art displayed, and the vendors selling light toys were all over throwing their toys into the air.
Plaza Navona contains some of the most massive fountains in Rome. The central one, designed by Bernini, pays homage to the four great rivers of the world, and the river gods. Water was important to ancient Rome, and brought into the city via Aqueducts. These, in turn, flowed into fountains from which the populace drew their water. Over time, many of these fountains have been decorated into works of art with beautiful and bizarre sculptures. These are now huge tourist draws and great people-watching sites. Mostly, one sees people taking pictures of each other in front of the fountains, rather than spending any time at all actually studying the marvelous sculptures.
However, there are small fountains scattered throughout the city that one encounters when stumbling around. These are totally overlooked by the tour groups, and to me are more interesting. I happened upon one the other day where the statue in the fountain was a young woman, standing in a draped tunic. Her breasts were exposed, and the water in the the fountain was shooting in wide arcs out of her perky nipples. I would have loved to have had my 6-year-old nephew, Preston, there at that moment, asking his not-to-be-denied questions... This particular fountain was ancient. At the cistern, rope cuts from people hauling heavy buckets of water up and over the side, are etched into the marble.
Today, I saw a bike hit a car. However, because it was a Smart Car, it appeared that the car got the worst of it. The biker appeared to be unhurt, and everyone kissed good-bye.
The scale of this city is so different from anything I've seen before. The buildings are massive. Not tall, but massive. Long, wide, with gigantic doors and high windows, ornamented to the hilt, beautifully colored, and packed together with the thinnest of roads between these behemoths.
In contrast to these massive buildings, tiny little cars and trucks share the streets with millions of motorbikes. Even the street sweeper trucks are minuscule, with little brushes on their bottoms about the size that Scott uses to wax his car. Garbage trucks are the size of golf carts, and how a prone body fits into an ambulance is a mystery to me.
There is an Alice-in-Wonderland quality to the city. Am I dwarfed by the buildings, or am I a giant among the vehicles?
Motorbikes apparently have no laws except "you must wear a helmet". At a red light, all of the motorbikes queue to the front of the line, waiting for the green. When the light turns, these 20 or 30 bikes all buzz out at once, sounding like so many angry bees.
The Smart Cars have horns that have the threatening power of a bleating lamb. Even the buses have subdued horns, as I found out when I thought I heard the "Meep-Meep" of Roadrunner, and looked over my shoulder to see a full-size bus bearing down on me. This is not the land of insistent GM horns or an OO-Ga horn blaring "On Wisconsin".
All in all, with the bleating sheep, the bees, and the roadrunner, the streets are practically pastoral. The aggressive rush of New York, where cabbies will happily run you down while blaring their horn, is absent in the part of the city that I call home.
Tomorrow, The Vatican.
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