Day two, Tuesday, spent mostly in Ancient Rome.
Before that, though, this morning I found the perfect caffe shop, the perfect chocolate croissant, and figured out the bus system. I also went to a phone store to find out why the phone that my landlord gave me won't work. It won't work because...I hadn't found the "on" button. An easy fix, and everyone was so happy to help the stupid Americano.
Note to self: when getting on a bus, remember the name of the stop from which you are leaving, if you have any hope of returning to it. It is embarrassing to realize that my bus has driven past my stop because apparently I was looking for "Connie's House" stop.
Some things I do right. Buying the Roma Pass was one of them. Getting this pass at the tourist information center allows one to by-pass the ticket-buying lines. At the Colosseum, the wait was at least 45 minutes, but I sailed in. Same for the Forum and Palatine Hill. This pass gives the holder 3 days of public transit, 2 free site visits, and discounted museum visits past the first two. It is a deal, even if all it saves is time.
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The Colosseum is magnificent. I arrived early, and felt as though I had the place (relatively) to myself for the first 2 hours. Then, the Hoards of Tour Buses arrived. Luckily, I was headed for lunch. They must have been at the Vatican in the A.M. and were scheduled at the Colosseum after lunch.
There is a horrible magnificence about the Colosseum. Such excess, such incredible engineering, and all to sate the appetites of those who wanted to watch killings. Staring down into the below-stage areas where slaves, gladiators, prisoners, and animals waited their turns to fight and to die, I felt immense shame at how cruel human can be. Outside the pens where the combatants were penned crouch long lines of crude wooden stools. Guards sat while their charges waited their turn to die. It creeped me out; I hear screams and desperate roars but even worse, the blood-thirsty taunts of the audience. It is hard to reconcile this image with humans having compassion & humanity.
I carried my camera today, and shot lots in the Colosseum. Another shooter was following me. When I stood in an off-limit space to take a high shot, so did he after I moved on. When I was on my knees shooting through a wire fence, he claimed the spot after me. When I crouched behind a horizontal pillar to get a diagonal in my shot, so did he. When I moved to the other side of the pillar, so did he. When I framed a shot through an ancient brick bore-hole, guess who stuck his camera in the same hole.
Since I was involuntarily drafted into this game of "Follow the Leader", I decided to have a little fun. I hope that he enjoys his birds-eye view of common limestone pebbles, his close-up of the "Toilet" sign, and that he mat-and-frames the group of Korean tourists wearing matching hot-turquoise "Happy Tour" t-shirts.
After the Colosseum, the Palatine Hill was pure pleasure. It was my favorite site today. Beautiful, breezy, shady, and cool, the ruins were stunning with their marble statues, and still-brilliant floor and wall mosaics. The palace is a 150,000 square-foot "home", with the ruins of gardens and fountains. The views across Rome are gorgeous in all directions.
The Circus Maximus spoke to me. Here was a stadium for 250,000 Romans. Four charioteers at a time, with their horses and chariots, raced 7 laps around a narrow track (about 3.5 miles total). Everyone had his favorites, betting much as our current horse races. Twelve races a day, 240 days a year. I would have loved to have seen this spectacle. The wheel ruts are still visible, and pieces of the columns and statues are littered across the infield. While this was a violent sport, at least the charioteers chose their vocation, unlike the Christians, slaves and gladiators at the Colosseum.
There was an icy-cold spring trickling out of the hillside, into an ancient cistern. On such a hot day, a number of us were lined up to fill our water bottles, many of us "Women of a Certain Age". We joked that this is the REAL "Fountain of Youth". I had 3 bottles, so we'll see how that works out.
Everyone know that the Roman Forum is just ruins. Incredible that a pope had it dismantled in two days, to use the materials in other Roman buildings. It is an exercise for the imagination to picture Romans socializing, conducting business, celebrating, and grieving here. I found the cremation site of Julius Caesar to be quite sad. Just a small hut, really, with a mound of dirt inside. People leave piles of flowers on the mound, where they fade and crumble to dust.
The site of Mark Anthony's sarcastic speech is just outside. If we can believe Shakespeare, we'd hear "Friends, Romans, Countrymen, lend me your ears", etc. I took my photos from Mark Anthony's stone stage.
The church of St. Peter in Chains was interesting to see, with Michelangelo's sculpture of Moses as the centerpiece. It was beautifully lit with warm gold tones from the windows and highlights of the offering candles. I had a gorgeous shot lined up, all shadow and nuance. However, some money changer at the church has decided that it might be a money-maker to have a coin machine for directing spotlights onto the sculpture. Just as I was clicking the shutter, a blaze of Klieg lights went on, thanks to someone dropping a Euro in the machine. Incredible. This beautiful, subtle statue was seared in harsh spotlights suitable for maximum security prisons.
Rich Steves recommends, in his book, that one can "make friends" by feeding these machines. I don't think so. What a way to uglify a work of art. After this disappointment, I headed home.
By the time I managed to push my way off the bus and trudge back to my stop, I was famished. By my apartment are at least fifty restaurants, all with outside seating. I went to an Italian one (imagine) and scarfed down artichoke bruschetta, a pear-and-Gorgonzola salad, and wine. After such a busy day, it would be hard to imagine a better treat. Okay, two glasses of wine. Yes, I did that, too.
An American family sat for dinner and asked if the restaurant served Chinese food. Their daughter was hungry for Chinese. The waiter politely explained that, being an ITALIAN restaurant, they hadn't yet ventured into CHINESE food. The husband/dad, and asker of the question, was too dim to realize the humor of his question. The server and I shared some significant eyebrow-lifting and shoulder shrugging. People are funny, especially when they don't realize it.
Safety: no pickpockets on the bus, nor at any of the sites. And believe me, I was on my toes. I was totally crushed on the bus home, but someone gave me his seat. One gypsy child came to my table at the restaurant, begging. He even went down on his knees and clasped his hands as if praying. I and the waiter waved him away, and he scampered to his mother, a young and not-unlovely woman clutching an oversize leather handbag who was none-too-discreetly waiting to see if he'd be successful. He was not.
Poor kid. But not in a way that money can fix.
My apartment is an oasis. Close to everything, it is nevertheless on a quiet semi-circle of modest apartments. With walls the thickness and acoustics of bank vaults, it is a treat to retreat here after a busy day.
Ciao! I am loving this city- Connie
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