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Published: April 15th 2009
Day 1 - Rome
Our driver dropped us at our apartment on Via Del Babuino at around 9.30am. We were greeted by Guido (our landlord) who herded us up the narrow winding staircase to the 1st floor where we were confronted by the smallest lift in Italy! We had to do 3 lift trips to the 4th floor as we could only fit one or two people and 2 pieces of baggage at a time. The apartment is tiny but fantastic, and the views are spectacular. Guido is a lovely man and had luckily done some grocery shopping for us as it was still Pasqua (easter) and everyting was 'Chiuso" (closed until Tuesday). Magically the easter bunny had also left 3 (very large) eggs on the table.
We allowed ourselves a good 5 mintues to take in the apartment before grabbing the map and hitting the ground running in an effort to stave off the jet lag from the overnight jump from Singapore.
The Spanish Steps are only 200m from our flat so this was our first port of call. There are 174 steps (yes we walked them all). Even early morning they are packed with people! Apparently
the steps were actually built by the French but because of some nasty political issues Rome basically renamed them the Spanish Steps (because the Spanish Embassy is next door) just to stick it to the French!
Watching the masses on the steps I realised that I would have to seriously pick up my act style wise if I was to blend with the crowd. Italians ooze style! Even the kids wear designer labels! Our next mission was to order our first Italian coffee in a Bar. In most coffee bars in Italy there are 2 prices for everything, the bar price and the table price. We decided to order standing at the bar and hesitantly spoke Italian to order. I was very proud of myself when I said "bongiorno, uno latte, per favore" my pride was short lived when I was presented with a glass of warm milk! Lesson one learnt! I now ask for cafe lattes and have to say we have not had a bad coffee yet!
Next stop the Trevi Fountian! This was not to far from the Steps, but as we walked numerous cobbled roads we were continually presented with "WOW" moments. Every corner
would uncover something amazing. There are many legends surrounding the fountain. The most popular is the stroy of a man who plunged to his death from the top floor window of the adjoning building into the fountain below. THe locals complained that his ghost could be seen jumping from the window each night. They wanted the fountain removed and refused to drink the water. In an effort to silence the myth the top floor window was bricked up and a false window painted on the brick so as not to deface the great building. It stands that way to this day.
To say the Pantheon is impresive would have Marcus Agrippa turning in his grave. The temple is the largest in Rome, the most intact of all the great monuments and the greatest remaining structure of its type in the world today. Used even now as a church for regular service the temple houses the remains of some of the great dignitaries of Rome including artist Raphael and Victor Emmanuel whose monument dominates the great citys southern skyline. There are many theories as to how the great dome on top was built. At one point the locals were convinced
of a tale that at first a large clay dome was created and the structure built over it. Then to ensure the clay was removed the builders buried gold coins in it and told the peasants to dig for them. When the clay was all gone the great dome stood firm. Aah, never keep an Italian away from a good story!
The remains of the day were spent discovering church after church each more breathtaking than the last. After nine hours on our feet and loosing the battle against jet lag we stumbled into the first (and might we say stereotypical in a good way) Italian Pizzeria we could find. Nothing comes small in in this city as we soon found out. Pizza of your choice may only be 7euro but it dwarfs your dinner plate and challenges you to defeat it. Nieve at last got to satisfy her desire for true authentic bolognese, she was not dissapointed.
In true 'Italian male' style our Pizza chef (lets call him Luigi ???) spent most of his time tossing bases, leering at the girls walking by and gesturing to Tim in what I have come to understand is an international
language. Of course, his gestures we only interupted while he refilled his beer glass or polished off a quick smoke at the door. By the end of dinner we were all so tired we were barely able to speak English let alone Italian. We retreated to the apartment and were all asleep within 10 minutes.
Day 2 - Rome
We awoke somewhat refreshed and after buying coffees (several) from the bar downstairs (take away coffee is not a concept embraced in Italy) we put our walking shoes on very sore feet and headed off. Zig zagging our way toward the Forum we finally arrived at the Victor Emmanuel Monument. From the moment you set eyes apon this travatine monster it is obvious why most Italians can't stand the thing. Gaudi in the extreme the monument dwarfs all comers and simply doesn't fit with the Roman ruins of Triano, The Forum and Collosuem.
We spent far to long at Triano, a market andmin and public gathering complex built by Emporer Trajan after a great victory. The Roman thing to do after any great battle is to erect a monument to ones self. In fact, emporers who failed to
conquer and expand the empire were viewed in the same light as single term presidents and often overthrown.
After being charmed by Traino we ate pizza on the steps and caught our first glimpse of the Colloseum in the distance. Standing at the end of the Appian Way it is easy to see even from far off why it sent shivers up the spine of even the greatest warrior.
In rapidly fading daylight we opted for a bus ride home. After just a few hundred metres we came to an abrupt halt, the driver alighted and stood on the side of the road having a smoke. Ok, we thought, smoko?
Ten minutes later, 'avanti' was not a word we were likely to hear. A nun ( a passenger on said bus) questioned our young driver and was given a surly reply. She promptly returned serve with her own retort and strutted away. On examination a large puddle of red fluid could be found at the buses front end. Note to all our ladies, fluid, regardless of colour, should never, repeat never be coming out the front of an engine. Any engine. Forutnately a replacement bus collected us before
the angry nun could return with a bunch of her homies to get square for dissing her.
Dinner was had in the bar across the road where Sarah partook of her favourite Italian dish "Patatine Fitti".....yep, you guessed it, chips!
Harry Potter in Italian closed out the night and by 9 o'clock we were off with the faries destined for a visit to Villa Borghese, a ride on a bitchy bike and a walking tour of Rome with an Irish Guide.
Ciao.
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emily gordon
non-member comment
hi guys
hey guys it's emily, michael's daughter. Mum is going to be very angry at me because I got to read this before her :) Looks like you are all having a great time and your photos bring back so many memories. I laughed when I saw the girls holding the roses, I see that you gave into the Indian men selling them at the Trevi Fountain...good times. Keep us the blogging, Mum loves it stay safe em