Italy - Greece Vacation 1999 - Rome

9 May 1999

I was late as usual to our meeting point this morning, but as it happened we arrived at the airport more than two hours early. We checked in and then wandered around the airport, looking for books to read on the flight and just killing time in general.

I bought a copy of the Onion's "Our Dumb Century" to read until we meet Randy, at which point he's promised me a copy of Vonnegut's "Slaughterhouse 5." It's difficult to read the Onion book inconspicuously: it's got large headlines like "Man Walks on F***ing Moon" and I don't want to annoy the lady sitting next to me.

Chris and I are sitting together, one row in front of Forrest and Tamara. I had called over a month earlier to reserve seats, but even then there weren't 4 next to each other.

On the flight.

So anyway, we're now about an hour from landing in Amsterdam, where we'll meet Randy.

Originally, I had thought that we'd read the Italy books on the flight, and come up with some sort of short-term itinerary. Instead, we've been sleeping, watching the movies the flight attendants throw in front of us, or reading far less useful material.

There's something about sitting on a plane where you don't want to exercise your brain at all. As if you can lower your brain's alpha waves and ride through the flight in a semi-vegetative state.

I seem to remember that I liked KLM because they had better food and legroom than most American airlines. Now I realize that neither the food or legroom is that much better. I think it's just that Dutch flight attendants are very tall and very blonde.

We met Randy in Amsterdam. Again, I hadn't booked the seats in advance, so we're all scattered on the flight to Rome. I sat between a sleepy 40-something American and a lady of unknown nationality who seemed eager to tell (in her excellent if accented English) what a chore it had been pulling a heavy bag through Schipol airport.

I accidentally left my copy of the Onion book on the plane. Bummer.

11 May 1999

On Sunday (the 9th), we walked up the street to St. Mary Maggione, then down through Parco di Triano to the Colusseum.

On the way, at St. Mary, I learned the hard way that a latte here is just steamed milk. You have to ask for a caffe latte.

After the Colusseum, we wandered around the Foro Romano. There are cool ruins everywhere, but these were particularly well suited for climbing around on.

After the Foro Romano, we visited a museum (the Roman museum?) where there was a Renoir exhibit. Some of the Renoir pieces were interesting, but the piece that really got to me was by a different artist -- kind of a hazy landscape that was either a razed battlefield or a hillside with a church tower just visible.

After that we returned to a small restaurant near the hotel, with a living canopy of ivy and vines above us. We ate a small meal and had several bottles of wine. Chris beat us handily at cards, despide widespread collusion.

Cool corridor with statues at the Vatican Museum.

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[links to a larger image]')" onmouseout="resetHover()" >Excellent (but out-of-place) sculpture in the middle of the Vatican Museum ("sphera con sphera").

My favorite part of the Vatican Museum: the map room (I bought a map here and cleverly left it at the train station in Rome).

At the Colusseum. The floor is gone, leaving the catacombs underneath.

Forrest, myself, Chris and Randy at the Colusseum.

Yesterday (the 10th) we visited the Vatican Museum in the morning, then the Colusseum in the afternoon. After that we looked for a concert near the Vatican again, Bach's Concerto n. 1 and Stravinsky's Sacre du Printemps. We walked home, stopping by Piazza Navona and the Fontani di Trevi.

At the concert by the Vatican. We're sitting along the side of the hall, the audience is applauding a guest violinist.

Crossing the Tiber at night (on the way to the hotel from the concert).

Today we went to the Catacombs, then by St. Giovanni, then to the Spanish steps, then lunch, then the palace, then the Parthenon.

The grounds above the catacombs (sadly, we weren't allowed to take pictures in the catacombs themselves, and the one I took anyway--without a flash--didn't come out).

The Catacombs were cool. 20+ km of tunnels deep underground. Our guide was a very pious Catholic who seemed incapable of describing the catacombs without falling back on religious dogma. At one point I tired of her digression on the number 7 and its deep meaning in Catholicism, and just wandered around instead. It's kind of eery down there, you're in a narrow corridor of earth, with beds for dead people as far as you can see.

The guide wasn't happy about my leaving the group: I got yelled at for straying. Deep inside, I'm sure she appreciated the irony.

Anyway, after looking around the catacombs we headed back to Rome, and checked out the church of San Giovanni.

12 May 1999

On the bus to Siena.

In San Giovanni. If you look, there's a ray of light from the middle right striking the floor in the middle of the picture.

So again (back to the 11th), San Giovanni was a fairly typical (and typically impressive) Catholic church. I suppose I've seen so many amazing Churches that it's difficult to be impressed anymore. San Giovanni had a beautiful ceiling, but what really impressed me was the light. It was streaming through the windows, catching dust in the air, creating striking rays of light.

At the Spanish Steps. Forrest, Randy, Chris and Tamara are standing near the bottom.

From San Giovanni, we took a subway to the Spanish Steps. The Spanish Steps were built with French money, called "Spanish" in a fit of papal whimsy, and every square foot not covered with flowers has a tourist sitting on it.

Forrest strayed from the group for only a second, and was beset by a fast-talking street merchant. Somehow, the salesman managed to fasten a bracelet on Forrest's wrist which couldn't be removed without sharp scissors. So Forrest bought it.

We wandered around the alleys near the Piazza di Spagna for a while. Randy and Forrest each got haircuts at a smart-looking barbershop.

Then it was off to the Palazzo del Quirinale. Sadly, most of the first gate was covered in scaffolding. So we walked up to the Piazza della Republica where the palace guards pretended not to pose for us.

Inside the Pantheon.

Inside the Pantheon (part II).

From there, we wandered down to the Pantheon. It was an impressive building, massive stone columns outside leading you to the spacious dome inside. It's one of the best-preserved Roman buildings in Rome. Here as well I thought the light was amazing.

Leaving the Pantheon. Chris is casually leaning against the base of the fountain (blue shirt). I don't think he knew I was taking a picture, he just likes posing in general.

We then walked down to the Palazzo Venetia and the Piazza del Campidoglio. This also included another Catholic church with an impressive gilt ceiling.

We wandered back to the hotel from there, to plan our evening and transportation for the next day.

The big problem with planning was learning how to use the phone. We went to the front desk many times with questions; finally the concierge walked us over to the shop next door, helped us buy a phone card, and wrote down exactly what we should dial.

A march protesting the bombing of the Chinese embassy in Belgrade (the protesters marched by the front of our hotel).

After agreeing on a tentative plan for the next day, we set out for dinner. The guide book recommended a particular part of the city (Trastevere), so we walked there. After looking at several places (one with a smooth-talking maitre'd named Tex), we again looked to the guidebook for direction. It recommended a small pizzaria off a side street.

We found the restaurant, hidden beside a small piazza. Outside were the waitstaff and cooks, idly smoking and talking (no one was eating yet). They looked like the Village People. At first I was surprised that the guidebook hadn't mentioned that the restaurant was owned and operated by flamboyantly gay men, but then I was glad that it hadn't, because really: what does it matter? So we went in.

It was a good choice. Excellent pizza, and the house wine was cheap and good. Again we drank a lot of wine and played cards.

By the time we left, the restaurant was full and there was a line of people waiting to get in, mostly locals.

Then it was off to another bar. We found a corner table and kept ordering beer, B-52's, and caffe until after midnight. We spent the time playing cards, mocking each other's social gaffes during the day, watching a continuous video of skiing and motorbiking wipe-outs, and just generally making a nuisance of ourselves.

A beautiful Italian woman started talking to me when I went up to order drinks. I say beautiful, but keep in mind this is after several hours of wine and beer. So your guess is as good as mine.

Anyway, we talked for a while. She had a sweet name which I forgot immediately, and spoke pretty decent English. She lived in Rome, but was about to take off for a year or so to Manchester to get a Marketing degree. I felt pretty savvy, and she seemed pretty impressed that we'd found this particular bar, off the beaten track.

Now that I'm sober, however, I'm not entirely sure that she wasn't just amusing herself by giving ridiculous advice to drunk foreigners. For instance, she told me that the B-52's were meant to be set on fire and then drunk quickly through a straw. The bartender raised his eyebrows, but dutifully handed me two straws. I think she was also annoyed that a group of tourists had found her local bar.

Chris' obscene lighter (the naughty bits light up).

Back at the table, Chris was very eager to help in the B-52 experiment, if only to show off his recently-acquired obscene lighter. The B-52's were meant for Forrest and Tamara, although I think they had actually asked me for another coffee and a glass of water. As it was, they were amazingly compliant and readily agreed when I told them that instead of water and coffee they would have to slam two flaming shots of hard alcohol. When in Rome.

Sadly, the experiment was a dud. Despite Chris' many attempts, the first B-52 refused to light. There was a launch failure with the second, and it ended up all over the table. Chris decided we should leave.

Rome is difficult to navigate during the day with a good map. At night, drunk and armed only with a map which appeared to be ripped at every important intersection, we quickly got lost and ended up at the Circus Maximus.

In ancient times, the Circus Maximus was an arena for chariot races. These days, it's a large field populated (nocturnally, at least) by Rome's pot-smoking community, and their faithful dogs.

We walked the length of Circus Maximus. After several hours of drinking, Chris had acquired a powerful sense of direction, and insisted that our hotel was actually to the southwest, which we now realize would have been halfway back to daVinci airport.

Fortunately, Randy managed to coax Chris back across the Circus, and we gave the map to Tamara, who had been drinking coffee for most of the night. So after another unplanned excursion to the Colusseum, we wound up back at the hotel again.

We checked out this morning. For future note: Hotel Albergo Romano. Excellent place.

We spent two hours in a fruitless attempt to rent a car, and finally just caught a bus to Siena.

On the bus to Siena. Forrest is horizontal in the back seats. Anytime we sat down on a bus, plane, or train, he'd go catatonic. Bizarre.

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