When I get all of that under control I’ll have plenty of other things to share from the trip, too. There’s an hour of video to produce from the ship excursions. I brought back a ton of things to scan, too. I figure I can carry this through the summer.
Take a good hard look cause we're sailing on a boat.
We wake up this morning with an even greater purpose: We must make it to our cruise ship.
So we enjoy the little breakfast provided by our fabulously located and luxurious two-store hotel in Rome: hard roll, sugar dusted croissant and all the TANG you can drink, everyday.
We wrestle our luggage out of the hotel, which is so small that the two of us and our suitcases can’t stand at the desk all at once. We navigate our way into the hallway and to the elevator. The lift is so small that it can’t hold us and the luggage — and we didn’t even over-pack this time. The lift is so small, in fact, that one person, two rollers and a backpack are capacity.
So down from the fourth floor goes the lift. And then it comes back up again. And then I climb in, shutting the exterior wire door and then the inner doors and then sliding down to the ground floor. This takes a while, but it is “quaint.”
And then we walk to the Termini, the bus/train stop in the city center. I know that our big suitcases are close to 50 pounds each. Our smaller bags are, of course, less. We each have backpacks stuffed to overflowing. It is a bright, sunny, warm day. The walk isn’t long, but just long enough.
The Yankee left her special lipstick at home, but not to worry. In Termini there is a Sephora and she is able to pick up a replacement. I stand guard with our luggage, enough for an entire 17-day European adventure. Finally she emerges. “Italians.” Picking up one piece of lipstick takes a while.
So now we must find the train. Now Termini doesn’t look that big from the outside, but it meanders. And I think, at one point, I went down one flight of stairs so I could walk 25 feet to walk up another flight of stairs. I’m doing the gentlemanly thing and carrying the bigger luggage.
We finally find the right line, and then must find the proper train. This involves much more walking. I’m drenched in sweat. We see the right train and, somehow, she realized it was about to depart. So The Yankee sprints. With luggage. And she manages to jam her foot in the door as it is closing.
Two nice guys pry the door back open. She climbs in, I’ve caught up — with the heavy luggage — and I stagger on board. Our bags are too big for the overhead rack, so we just do our best to stow the stuff in adjacent seats. If there had been someone there to monitor tickets and seating I’m sure he would have demanded we purchase two more seats.
So we ride northwest for an hour or so to the town of Civitavecchia, which is how the Romans cruise. We are actually a few minutes early, so we catch a bite to eat in a cafe at the train station. A girl who was just getting off work was doing her best Frankie Valli. She was embarrassed when she noticed I was watching, but she did a good job. And since it is such a good song …
So we had a sandwich and then started the long walk to the port. We found a bus, somehow lugged our luggage on and then drove to the ship to begin the embarkation process. You must fill out paperwork that says you haven’t been sick, don’t know any pigs with the flu.
They take our picture. They take our passports. They give us a little card with a magnetic strip. They run us through metal detectors. We board the ship. They spray us down with antibacterial hand soap. They begin offering drinks within six steps of being on board. We have embarked.
We find our room, throw our backpacks inside and head to the pool. We got onboard very early, so there is time to kill. We decide to read.
This ship has a library. It spans two decks.
There is also a conference desk. Not sure what they expect people to do there.
We found the dining room tonight and I had my first dose of cruise ship food. I’m sure it will only become more ridiculous as the voyage continues.
This is my first time cruising. The Yankee is the expert. We both agree this place is huge. More on that later.
We visited the Villa Borghese Museum today. Originally a suburban party villa, the collection that now resides there was started by by Cardinal Scipion Borghese, the nephew of Pope Paul V. From those 17th Century beginnings, coming to Napoleon’s brother-in-law and finally transforming into a public museum in the 1700s.
The museum boasts the world’s greatest Caravaggio collection and one of the best Bernini collections you can find. There is no photography in the 20-room museum, but here are our favorite sculptures for the day, first a Bernini, his famous Apollo and Daphne. It must be seen in the round, and up close. Then, even someone with little understanding of sculpture, like me, is awed. Another incredible piece is Antonio Canova’s Pauline Bonaparte, which was quite scandalous. She’s reclining on a mattress, which looks for all the world like a different stone, or perhaps like an actual mattress.
The detail in both are incredible.
All of the Caravaggios are in one room. Bernini, meanwhile, absolutely steals the show. He always does. His talent was so great that he could convert even the unartistic viewers. The man had a gift. And makes you redefine your concept of having a gift.
There is a park on the property. We rented a two-person, pedal yourself rickshaw and drove it around, enjoying the beautiful afternoon weather. I took a lot of pictures.
We had a War Eagle moment at the museum, Ren’s first international one. We were waiting to go inside — you visit by appointment — and a lady walked by and noticed my shirt. Guess I’ll have to make a WEM section for the site after all.
We went across the Tiber River into Trastevere, which has gone from medieval village, to working class neighborhood to Left Bank to high priced neighborhood to rustic and touristy. The graffiti is plentiful, though. To get there we caught a bus, which took us to a tram. We missed our stop on the tram, so we got off about six stops later to catch a tram headed the original direction. We took the correct stop (which was the intial stop for the first tram, incidentall) and wandered deep into the neighborhood.
The sky was growing dark and we are stumbling through alleys. Occassionally we wander across a little piazza that Americans have overtaken. Mostly we feel like we are in alleys. A policeman finally helps us find our way to Trattoria da Lucia. Rick Steves says “lets you enjoy simple, traditional food at a good price in a great scene. It’s the quintessential rustic, 100 percent Roman Trastevere dining experience, and has been family-run since World War II. You’ll meet four generations of the family, including Giuliano and Renato, their uncle Ennio and Ennio’s mom — pictured on the menu in the 1950s. The family specialty is spaghetti alla Gricia with pancetta bacon.”
We sit in the alley under the stars, in Italy. We are serenaded by an old man on an accordion who says “U.S.A.!” and then launches into a passionate “Somewhere Over the Rainbow.” It was perfect.
Steves has given us three great restaurants in a row, so I say pick up his books before your next European visit. I had the spaghetti alla Gricia, which was profoundly delicious. We’re ripping off that dish. And we also found the most simple, delicious summer dessert. When we get settled at home after the trip you’ll have to stop by and have some.
A table of four American ladies, a mother and her three adult daughters, were seated next to us. We exchanged names and hometowns and notes and tips on traveling in Rome. Turns out they are from not far from where my family lives. Turns out one of the ladies’ daughters is going to a basketball camp at Auburn. She gives us her card. She is a financial adviser.
We need one of those.
We got turned around in the alleys of Trastevere trying to leave, somehow emerging blocks away from where we needed to be. At first it was The Yankee’s fault (and she’s usually great at this) and then I took over, pointing us in at least the right direction. Time was of the essence. Meals aren’t to be rushed through here. Late starts and two hour dinners are the norm, and the waiters aren’t necessarily in a hurry to produce the check.
Our hotel is on the exact opposite side of Rome from Trattoria da Lucia and the buses stop running at midnight. We finally make it back to the tram stop, catching what might have been the last ride of the night back across the Tiber. We caught the absolute last bus, waiting out what seems to be the driver’s mandatory break at St. Peter’s, still miles from our place.
Finally we made it back to our neighborhood. But we missed the stop. We needed the fourth stop. The Yankee (who really is good at this sort of thing, normally) insisted we’d just made the third stop. Turns out the fifth stop is at the bus station, so we walked back from there. I’ll give her grief over that for days.
In addition to the slideshow above, there is a brief photo gallery on the day.
At the Vatican we saw what must be the world’s most comprehensive statuary collection. There’s ancient Egyptian works, Greek works, Roman impressions of Greek works (those are the newcomers) and more. You can see 5,000-year-old writing in this museum.
Finally you work your way into the Sistine Chapel. No words you have read, no pictures or video you see can prepare you for the pinnacle of Rennaissance art, so I won’t try to start.
It is a fresco, painted while wet over several years, depicting all of Biblical history of the world, from creation to Judgment Day, which is found on the front wall. The sides are painted as curtains. Overwhelming is a word you use a lot in Rome, no more deservedly than here.
The floor, incidentally, was terrible.
We had lunch at La’Isola della Pizza, of which Rick Steves says “wood-fired pizzas, sidewalk seating and home-cooking at its truest. Adele, Vito or their son Renzo serve up generous plates of their mixed antipasti and Vito himself hunts the wild boar for the cinghiale pasta.”
They offer a four-way pizza, un quattro stagioni. We chose the quattro formagi (four cheese), Gorgonzola e salsiccia (mozzarella, sausages, Gorgonzola), Capricciosa (tomato, mozarella, ham and egg (it worked, well)) and bascaiola funghi e salsiccia (mozarella, mushrooms, sausages). We were serenaded by a violinist.
We hiked the 320 steps (we paid two Euros to avoid another 180 steps) to the cupola above St. Peter’s Square. This is another tremendous view. You can see all the way to the Tiber and beyond. On the way up to the top you can see a bird’s eye view of the basilica.
We took in a mass. St. Peter is buried there, in this most ornate, overdone place on earth. Seated next to us were the Sisters of the Arrive Late, Leave Early Convent. Watching a nun check her watch during mass is great. Watching another answer her cell phone is even better.
We decided on gelato for dinner. It is our honeymoon, why not? We found some in a mid-block mall near our hotel. You walk in from the street, but it feels like an underground. Everything was closed, except the restaurant. We’re doing lots of things like that, dancing our way through Rome, hardly believing we are here. And we are only getting started.
Site stuff: Because it will otherwise get overwhelming I’m breaking up the photo galleries. I’ve posted almost 140 photos for the first two full days. Here’s yesterday’s. Click here for today’s. You’ll soon have video to stare at as well.
Incredibly full and busy day. We say the Colosseum — understated in size in person, but only a third of it remains for modern eyes. We walked up to Palatine Hill, the central hill of Rome, and the forum. We visited a little museum, stopped by the Piazza del Campidoglio and the Victor Emmanuel monument.
We took in an incredible view from the rooftop. I made a hasty panorama. (Magnify and scroll left.)
We took in the Pantheon, which is the oldest imposing structure around (and still boasts the world’s largest unsupported concrete dome). It was built in the 1st Century and became a Catholic church in the 13th. The first two kings of Italy. Renaissance artist Raphael and others are buried here. It is the most alive place we’ve been today.
We had dinner at Trattoria der Pallaro, which Rick Steves says is “a well-worn eatery that has no menu, has a slogan: ‘Here you’ll eat what we want to feed you.’ Paolo Fazi — with a towel wrapped around her head turban-style — and her family serve up a five-course meal of typically Roman food, including wine, coffee and a tasty mandarin juice finale. As many locals return day after day, each evening features a different menu.”
They brought us olives, cured beef, the best salami ever, lentils, an unidentified vegetable, rigatoni and roasted pork loin.
Steves knows his business. This place was delicious.
More pictures (almost 70 of them) can be found in the new, and rapidly growing, honeymoon gallery. There could be a brief video forthcoming too.
