Roma

June 11, 2009

Roma! Wonderful, wonderful city.

We pulled into the port city of Civitavecchia this morning. With a few of our fellow cruise passengers, we struck out to find the train station. We walked along the road next to the beautiful blue sparkling Mediterranean. On the way, we saw a bronze bust...with graffiti on it. Dean takes this as conclusive proof that his theory about graffiti is correct. Even I have to admit, it’s not looking good for me. When we reached the stazione, nine euro bought us an all-day pass. Such a deal!

For forty-five minutes, I had my nose pressed to the window looking at the Italian countryside. At one point, there was a field of sunflowers as far as the eye could see. Breathtaking. I daydreamed about living in a villa in Lazio until we got to the Roma San Pietro stop and hopped off the train.

We stuck with two people from the cruise most of the day, Rema and Yogi, good people from Chi-town. The four of us found St. Peter’s Square and breezed through a quick security line into the Basilica. I felt like I was back in Catholic school when guards walked briskly up and down the line inspecting people’s outfits for appropriateness. Literally, the Fashion Police. I had worn a knee-length sundress with a little short-sleeved blouse over it. I guess skirts have to be at LEAST knee-length, no shorter, so I wiggled mine down and breathed a sigh of relief as we were granted admittance. As we walked around mouths agape staring at the ceilings, we were cordoned off to one side by guards. A procession exited one room, including a man in a pointy hat. Dean is sure it was the pope. I couldn’t think they would just allow him to potter about like that. Yogi made the valid point that this was probably like the pope’s living room. I’m still not sure.

Then we went down to the tombs, all labeled in Latin. Many people were congregated around Johannes Pval II, which I brilliantly deduced was Pope John Paul II’s resting place. We wanted to see the Sistine Chapel, but it was closed on account of it being Corpus Christi day, the locals told us. On the way out of the square, I checked the “statue” in the ground I’d just seen on the Angels and Demons movie. By that time, the line to get in had grown to stretch all the way across St. Peter’s Square. I’m sure having just come out of a church, it was extra wrong to revel in others’ misfortune, but seeing the super-long line just made me thrilled with our timing.

Dean bought us gelato as my mid-morning snack. I had a cup of pineapple, amazing, and he had a cone with a vanilla-nutella swirl that I kindly helped him out with. Also amazing.

We rode the metro like pros to our next stop, the Colosseum. I personally don’t like to think of the “games” that went on there, but it was kind of surreal seeing the famous structure in person. Then we passed the national monument for Vittorio Emmanuele II, a rather impressive monument, even for Rome. I believe that guy is responsible for uniting much of Italy. We saw his name around a lot, so I gather the Italians appreciate his efforts. Next on the list was Trevi Fountain. Legend has it if you throw in one coin, you ensure your return to Rome. The second coin allows you to make a wish. Fantastic marketing ploy by the Rome Chamber of Commerce, I expect. But Dean and I threw our coins anyway, because in a city like Rome it’s easier to believe that wishes just might come true.

Then it was lunch time and the four of us set about finding a pizza, because it is a sin to go to Italy and not try the pizza. We found a little ristorante and ordered, with gestures and pointing, a margherita pizza and a pomodoro and buffalo mozzarella pizza. Apparently, it’s called buffalo mozzarella because it is made with buffalo milk. It was kind of tangy. The Chicagoans were shocked when they saw the pizza, being used to deep dish. It was thinner than your typical New York pie, but only the crust edges were crispy. They managed to keep the middle quite soft. It was very good. I’m not going to say it was better than my beloved NY pizza, but it was very good. If they invented it, we perfected it, how about that? But I’m sure that’s what everyone thinks about their hometown’s pizza.

We hit Piazza Navona next, admiring the fountains. Rome is so chock-full of beauty, it is ridiculous. Everywhere you look, there is art on top of art, layered on a base of art. Even the people have this effortless glamour about them. Despite the heat, the women looked perfectly coiffed with big hair done just-so, large sunglasses, statement pieces of jewelry, and you better believe they pulled off lipliner that we would consider too dark in the states, but they made you want to run out and buy it. The men wore suits with the two vents in the back (love it) or fitted jeans with a fitted polo or tee shirt, and aviator shades. I believe the word is “bellisimo”!

The Pantheon was incredible. The sun very obligingly streamed in through the hole in the ceiling (“hole in the celing” being the proper architectural term) and cast an other-worldly glow about the ancient structure. People just walked around it in a stunned silence, us included.

We continued on our whirlwind tour of Rome with a perma-smile stuck on my face. I was falling in love with the city, and I daresay it liked me back. We got to the Tiber River and were rather unnerved at not being able to put a name to its color. Sort of a cloudy brownish-greenish-bluish-gray. Undaunted, we merrily crossed in front of the Ex Palazzo di Guistizia which is, of course, another fantastic piece of architectural art that would normally stun you with its beauty but just managed to fit in with its neighbors here. We shopped for awhile in a street fair, looking at all the wares. Modern day Romans seem to be just as artistic as their ancestors.

For our last stop, we went into Castel St. Angelo which turned out to be the cherry on top of our whipped cream day. The castle itself was beautiful and interesting, but what made it perfect was the almost 360-degree view the rooftop offered of Rome and the Vatican. And since there don’t seem to be too many safety laws in Europe, there were no rails or safety glass to impede our view. We spent some time on the terrace just trying to soak it all up.

We finally made our way back to the ship, even though I didn’t want to leave, ever. I guess I am not worried though, because I know I’ll be back. I threw a coin in Trevi Fountain, after all.