Roma - Part 2

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I went to mass yesterday for the 2nd time in 2 days. Father Function (great name) at Sutherland Catholic Church would have been proud of me.
We had a rather relaxed day yesterday. Spent a frustrating time trying to ring home from one of the myriad of cheap phone points that are dotted throughout Europe. I suspect it's for the various immigrants who have arrived over the past 20 years. Still 8c a minute is a great rate. Anyway we couldn't get through, although we did have success this morning.

Our first stop was the Villa Borghese, Rome's famed parkland. As Liz put it any suburban park would have put it to shame. Still we had a very pleasant lunch at the local kiosk and then it was on to the Spagna steps. Still not sure why we came here. Liz said you have to see it. So we did. I climbed all the way up to take photos of the area.

From there it was on to the Trevi Fountain. Have a look on the web at this and you'll realise that it is an example of typical Italian understatement. Despite this it is beautiful. What surpised us is that it's sort of hidden away with not much room around it.

From there it was on to the Quirinale. Don't know what this is but it was listed on our map and it had Carabinieri with machine guns outside. The Carabinieri appear to be a law unto themselves here. When you see them in their paramilitary getup you can understand why the left in Italy hate them so much. They appear to be an instrument of the state rather than a servant of the people. For those of you who can remember, it is reminiscent of how Special Branch was used by the Askin and Bjelke Petersen governments.

At this point my bladder's resolve was being sorely tested so we had a cup of tea so we could use the toilet. It seems to me that there are two niche markets for a smart entrepreneurial type in Italy and France:
1. Grain bread. I reckon it could catch on here.
2. Proper tea making. Someone needs to tell that that a) the water needs to be boiling and b) you put the teabag in the water once it's boiled not leave it on the plate so the customer can put it in.

We then went to Piazza Venezia, or as it's described the TYPEWRITER BUILDING.
Liz couldn't cope with all the steps so brave adventurer that i am i scaled the heights alone. The building is the monument to the nation. One of its dedications is to King Victor Emmanuel II, the first king of a united Italy. Many leaders can claim to be the figurative father of their country; George Washington, Ghandi, Sukano. Victor Emmanuel was so enamoured of the ladies that he has been described as the literal father of his country as well.
Inside was a museum of the risorgimento, the Italian unification. I found it fascinating.

From there we caught a tram to somewhere - because we could. We got a ticket which lasted an hour so we decided to see where the tram went. But unfortunately suburbs look pretty much the same in every city so we got off and went back to Trastevere to see the church of Santa Maria di Trastevere where we sat in on mass. This was a much more subdued experience yet almost as moving as the previous day. It is a beautiful church supposedly the oldest in Rome. Outside there are a whole series of inlaid granite and marble pieces attached to the walls. The effect is of ancient graffiti in latin, Italian Greek and even Hebrew. It's like the scraps of stone have been harvested from other churches and buildings and brought here as a kind of collage of Roman and other ancient scribbling.

We then went to tea. We have made a habit of offering our leftover wine (thank you Melanie Safka) to people at adjoining tables as we're about to leave. I turned to this table behind me and offered it to some Americans. Turns out they were from Huron South Dakota. And one of their party was named CHUCK (I had a zen experience). I chatted for nearly an hour. Liz meanwhile started a conversation with the two Austrians sitting next to us. ( Liz here: the young Austrian guy had heard Barney tell the Americans that we were Australian. Then he heard Montana being discussed. He felt the need to ask whether Montana was in Australia; he didn't think it was, he was just confused at to how they came to be discussed in the same couple of sentences. And the converstaion went from there!) The South Dakotans were a revelation demolishing every stereotype i have of middle America. They were urbane and cultured and in no way insular or closed-minded. It was a terrific experience. I have emailed them and asked them if they want to join the blog so we can stay in touch.

What was interesting was how they are experiencing similar problems with Native Americans with alcohol and substance abuse and the effect of (in their case) more than 200 years of physical and cultural dislocation. South Dakota is where WOUNDED KNEE is (look it up).

All in all a great day.

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