Rome II

The  last day was reserved for exploring the history of a grand Empire. The Colosseum has some fun background that I was unfamiliar with, my favourite being that before the warehouses underneath the arena were made, they could flood the entire thing and have ship battles. The Palantine Hill was perfect. The sun shone above the ruins as a slight breeze whispered past, and I was able to lazily meander the secluded paths in peace. Easy to forget you are in the heart of Rome with lime trees and gardens to walk through.

The Tomb of the Unknown Soldier was more spectacular than the Italian parliament (or the Viennese beauty I pass by so many days). After visiting the Vatican and Colosseum, you might think that it is no longer easy to be overwhelmed by massive buildings. The scale is hard to fathom. Instead of posting any of my own pictures, I give you:

Yes, those little dots are soldiers. No, the full building is not shown in this image.

This experience was even more endearing, for the socializing I was able to do. On the observation level, I asked a gentleman where he had purchased the poppy adorning his collar (this being but a few days before Remembrance Day). He replied that he had purchased it in London. After he ate with his wife in the café, he gifted it to me, saying he would find another. My panini purchase had netted me a great meal, and also a Brazilian tablemate from the line. A lawyer on a language learning vacation, she was a delightful companion to wander more ruins and share stories with. (She saw Richard Gere at the Vatican apparently.)

Despite feeling immensely better than the day prior, the cold was yet settled in my lungs. I still wonder at the thoughts going through her head, and those around us, when upon entrance to a massive cathedral, my body was wracked with spasms and I was forced to run out of the church like an exorcised demon. She gave me a cough drop.

Back at the hostel, the American soldier shared his appreciation for Tim Hortons and showed some plastic currency he carried in his wallet. Excited to see the new bills, Canada!

Ciao!

Rome 1

Line up to enter St. Peter's Basilica

My first (and only?) trip alone, Rome. After attending my first classes, in the block course “Selected Topics in Gender Studies” and on the bus the next morning to Krakow, I realized I’d made a mistake. Creating a busy schedule resulted in some short-sightedness for the rest of the month. There was a week completely free with no plans! In Krakow, I chatted with one woman who had gone to Rome by herself and loved it. Another, Jenny, was in the same situation as I and we started planning, but she realized her finances would not allow booking a last minute (more expensive) flight to Italy. By the time Jenny shared that she was unable to go, I had already starting researching and fallen in love.

Really love the outfits

The Vatican may host a new pope, but John Paul II still rules

Travelling by yourself is, naturally, different than having a buddy. Even while visiting England, I had friends or family to see every day. Lacking a partner whose ears pop next to you on the plane is nothing when locals share their favourite pubs and stories with you. It forces you to take complete planning control for each step, and hopefully can teach you something about organization (which based on this dorm room, is a dream yet). Travelling by yourself while sick? Not recommended, but perhaps better than travelling with a partner that is not.

Rome has better water fountains than Vienna

The Yellow hostel in Rome is used to an international crowd of young guests. They greet you with a free drink on arrival, have a selection of maps and guides for the city, and even offer time for free on their iPads for Skype! Skyping home was actually such a gift, and gave some perspective (you are in Europe, buck up and enjoy it).

To start off with some opulence, the first day-trip was to the Vatican. I wandered St. Peter’s Basilica in the morning, and beat the massive queues that form as the day progresses. Without the press of the crowds, security is a lot more understanding of dawdlers in awe of the artwork and taking far too many pictures (broken cameras require much care and attention). The structure is massive, and it is easy to be absorbed by the marble statues and looming canvasses, particularly when an active service fills the Basilica with hymns.

This was not a short hallway.

The weirdest part of the experience was passing the beggars and immigrants selling knock off accessories on the street. There are only so many golden candlesticks and gem encrusted chalices you can pass before the poverty starts to rankle. I had a delicious aubergine pizza that is unlikely to ever be surpassed for lunch. It won’t be for a lack of trying though! Mmmm, definitely need to experiment more when I have an oven again.

Joining a guided tour for the Vatican Museums is a must. The place is massive, so seeing some highlights (the surprisingly small bunker/Sistine Chapel for example), while receiving a full explanation does make it more worthwhile. There were others traveling on their own, so we chatted and were able to take pictures for each other. After the tour ended, I continued exploring to take advantage of the crowd reduction to walk with ease down the marble halls. Where do I end up first? A postage museum. Maybe should have grabbed the map! There was still so much to see by the time they shut down for the evening.

After walking for the entirety of the previous day, I thought I would wake up after sleep feeling refreshed and ready to go. Nope! Little sleep (partiers), hacking cough, slight fever… Some days, you just need to plan to take it easy.

The Trevi Fountain is indeed, very nice. Whether or not it warrants the millions of tourists that visit every year is another question. Apparently there was a legal challenge from a charity that collects the coins tossed in every week against a man who regularly takes them out for himself. He has earned millions of Euros that way. The challenge failed, and he can still go in.

The Pantheon is an operational Catholic church. Someone booked it this Sunday for a service, so when I wandered over, it was not yet open to tourists. Despite being the beginning of November, it was warm enough under the sun to eat a gelato on the fountain steps in the piazza and people watch (there was also a fun band). When the service let up, you immediately feel the ancient world upon you. The Christians tried to modify it into a church, but Zeus would seem more at home than any cross. (Fun fact: the opening at the top allowing in light is just a hole. It was considered proof of the holiness of the structure that even if it rained outside, no water ever made it in. This was later attributed to the heat from all the candles evaporating the water before it could reach the floor. The electric lighting takes away some magic.)

Entrance to the Pantheon, does not convey scale

I followed up by viewing yet more theft from Egypt (this time in the form of a massive column), making me wonder if there are many sights actually left beyond the pyramids in the politically unstable country. The statue museum nearby was small and excellent, because the descriptions for the statues did a good job of explaining the background mythology. People and scenes are not converted into marble for nothing, meaning what was represented reflects what the culture valued strongly enough to be considered worth displaying.

The Spanish Steps are… steps. They are probably lovely, but my brain was not straight at the time. The tea shop directly next to the piazza’s claim to fame was too strong a temptation to ignore. I have difficulty passing a good tea shop when hale and hearty! A 10 Euro pot of tea (outrageously expensive and delicious) had magical restorative powers. After your body has recently decided to terminate the occupancy of your left lung, to the disturbance of nearby customers, the opportunity to sit and read Jane Austen (iPod, best travel companion) while sipping warm tea cannot be underrated.

After consulting the map, I decided to wander through other elegant and presumably famous piazzas on the way to a metro station. Going too far, as evidenced by extremely reasonable prices and locals haggling over socks, is the cue to head home. There was a welcoming American crew in the common room, but being the typhoid Mary in their midst is not nice.

Returned to room to find military types on leave. One was an American soldier who had done two tours in Iraq, and had come from working as a contractor in Afghanistan. He was sad to see the Canadians leaving. Interesting stories, to be sure. The Israeli above me had a nightmare that left her thrashing and screaming.