Our Roman Holiday Remix

We got to Rome in the afternoon and went on a search for a budget hotel. The area around the Termini train station has hundreds of hotels to choose from and can be dodgy in places after dark.

We wandered in to one of the dodgier places, y’know the kind you stand in front of and ask yourself, should I knock or just run away? A frumpy Italian lady appeared and didn’t have room for a whole week but was nice enough to direct us to another place. Their “car” picked us up with our packs, sometimes a scary venture if we decide against staying there, and we drove the short distance away.

The place, Cristina’s Residence, was set out of the bustle behind a locked gate and near a residential building. It was perfect for us, if a bit expensive, but Italy is not cheap. We had a little fridge, clean bathroom, and wifi - what more to ask for! They brought breakfast every morning to our room but the stack of biscuits and croissant out of plastic wrap was no Ca Valeri. After day 3, Ron pouted about having to eat it, but free food is free so we choked it down day after day.

The food, in general, was nothing to write home about as we tried to mainly eat on the cheap and from the grocery store - lots of half roasted chickens (only $4) and premade pastas. There was a great Indian food place near the train station aptly named Indian Fast Food. We had some great pizza near Piazza Navona. And a delicious early evening mojito out at Campo di Fiori one night with cabaret style street dancers tapping out the entertainment.

Rome, like all of Italy, in August is jam packed with tourists and too hot to want to leave the haven of your hotel room during the day. Unfortunately most sites of interest have regular business hours so it forces you, begrudgingly, out on to the streets. Once outside you are dripping sweat from the heat and the humidity almost instantaneously and then irritable for most of the day thereafter.

One of my favorite sites has to be Trevi fountain, it is just so beautiful and unexpected as you round the corner towards the piazza and see the massive fountain towering over you. The white marble and intricate statues and spraying water transfixes and uplifts your spirit - you crave to just jump right in and swim around awhile. Nevermind the mob scene of tourists crawling all over it. We threw a coin in the fountain, so legend has it we are guaranteed to return to Rome (though I promise you, never ever ever in the summer).

The Pantheon is another must see with the famous columned façade and huge oculus in the center of the ceiling, letting in the natural sunlight - and rain and birds and anything else that wanders through it. Also the final resting place of our good buddy Raphael.

We visited San Pietro in Vicolo mainly to see Michaelangelo’s tomb for Pope Julius II. It was planned to have over 60 full size sculpted figures but the final result was much less ambitious. Like most churches, admission is free, so it was worth a quick peek. I wore a tank top that day so to get in past the respectful clothing police, I fastened a shawl from two mismatching bandanas. Ron said I looked like some kind of a homeless superhero and refused to stand next to me.

We went to the Colleseum again during the day. We didn’t go in, as I had seen it a few years back when I went on an Italy tour (Milan - Florence - Rome) with my friend Tina. It’s not all that impressive inside, just a bunch of holes in the ground where the prisoners and tigers were kept. But we sure had fun fake fighting and laughing at guys dressed up like gladiators smoking cigarettes on their break. Yo T-dog, wassup girl!

The same day, we hoped to tour around the Roman Forum but it was way too hot, the sun too brutal to sift unshaded through broken pillars and piles of rubble. Maybe if I was more of a history buff…but only maybe.

As the Romans are the inventors of the aqueduct, there is no shortage of fountains and free flowing fresh water from spouts and spigots all over the city. It was especially important that we could fill up our water bottles as the stupid filter we bought (the First Need filter that Jonathan recommended!) had already cracked. We had barely used it since so many countries had clean water but we will soon be heading to Africa and now have a serious headache to try and get a replacement filter on the road.

We had a real kick watching Roman Holiday one afternoon, and seeing Audrey Hepburn at all the sights we had visited. All except the famous scene of Bocca della Verita, the Mouth of Truth, that had already closed when we went at the unsocial hour of 6pm, the sun still hours from setting, we had to shoot photos through the bars. I’m not sure what I’d even say if I could put my hand in the ancient lie detector...what would you ask if you knew I had to tell the truth?

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Vatican City

Vatican City isn’t really a city at all. Secreted away behind impossibly high walls within Rome it is actually the smallest country in the world with its own laws dictated by the Roman Catholic Church and enforced by the Swiss Guard in funny joker-esque attire reportedly designed by Michelangelo himself.

It takes an entire day to visit the square, basilica, and museum and you are most definitely battered and tired like Jesus in the Pieta afterwards. The actual statue sits near the entrance of St. Peter’s Basilica behind thick bulletproof glass since some madman came in 1972 and started hacking away at Madonna with a hammer exclaiming “I am Jesus Christ!” I don’t think so buddy, you are a crazy zealot and an art vandalizer that ruined it for the rest of us. Just like the a-hole with a bomb in his nike sneakers, we are all forced to take off our shoes at the airport now. Thanks a lot.

St. Peter’s Basilica is so massive you can’t really describe it or photograph it properly. From one side to the other is the length of over two football fields.

The sun shining in from the circular windows above feels godly - like the light from angels - and casts beams of light on the marbled floor below.

The spiraling canopy over the altar was designed by Bernini and constructed from bronze pilfered from the Pantheon, as dictated by Pope Urban VIII, a member of the wealthy Barberini family. Which led to a famous Italian quote, “Quod non fecerunt barbari, fecerunt Barberini" which translates to: What the barbarians didn't do, the Barberini did.

The Vatican Museum houses a huge collection of art, and like all other museums of its kind I can’t help but feel a little guilty looking at works of art pillaged from other civilizations. Even more ironic is stuff unapologetically stolen in the name of God. Isn’t that poor mummy turning over in his sarcophagus fuming over the fact that he is not spending eternity in his rightful tomb in Egypt?

Many extraordinary artists are exhibited, including Raphael - a real “player” and womanizer 15th century style, who was commissioned to paint several murals in the papal apartments.

But all of this is merely prelude, as the masses of people pushing down the hallways attest, since the entire museum is designed to lead you swiftly towards the finale that is the Sistine Chapel.

We had read Michelangelo and the Pope’s Ceiling so we had the inside scoop on the story of it in the making. Michelangelo reluctantly accepted the massive painting assignment, as he was a self-proclaimed sculptor, who only wanted to work on Pope Julius II’s tomb instead. The book debunked some common misconstrued facts, like he did not paint it lying on his back, nor did he complete it as a solo endeavor, he had many assistants, however unlucky they felt working with the depressed often volatile artist. Who can’t relate to taking on a project that you don’t want and can’t back out of, then working painstakingly to complete it, almost killing yourself in the process. I’d be cranky too.

He had to teach himself how to fresco during the project, which is painting on wet plaster hoping you don’t make a mistake before it dries.. So what that it took him four years to complete, it is over 5000 square feet in surface area! He also became a master at foreshortening, the art of drawing figures overhead at a perspective that looks like they are leaping towards you. It really is amazing in person, the perspectives are often flawless.

I had told Ron that you couldn’t take photos but for some inexplicable reason I saw a sign on the door when you entered the chapel that I took for “no flash” photography. We pushed our way through the crowds and luckily scored two seats along the wall. I plugged in my ipod and started listening to Rick Steves audio guide (never mind I think he is such a tool). He starts out talking about the Creation of Adam so I take my camera out and zoom in so I can see the detail and snap a few photos. Suddenly there is an angry man in my face - his mouth moving but I can’t hear what he’s saying. I pop out an earbud and he is yelling at me at the top of his lungs in Italian then English telling me I can be escorted out of the building. Now I notice there are several hundred onlookers not looking at the ceiling but staring at me in disbelief. Oops. Well here it is in all it’s glory, my illegal photograph of the Sistine Chapel!

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The Bridge of (Disappointing) Sighs

The Bridge of Sighs in Venice, rumored to be where prisoners saw their last flicker of sunlight before being dragged down into the dungeons, is now surrounded by one giant advertisement. We passed it several times scratching our heads at the tourists crowded around, not realizing it was an actual monument. What the heck has happened to the sacred? Like those very criminals, marketers have sunk into a pit of depravity never to be seen again.

Everyone, everything, and everywhere is slowing selling out. I remember getting angry at tv as the little network logo crept on the screen (I think it started with mtv), then the scrolling cnn banners were added to the news, now ridiculous animating advertisements assault you while you watch your primetime tv. In twenty years the whole screen will be one giant ad overlayed on top of the program and I‘ll say wistful things like ‘I remember the day when tv just had tv on it.”

There are hollywood stars plastered all over foreign advertising, shameless product placements in movies, soft drink companies buying up our schools, and we all shrug and go on eating our coco puffs. Well now it’s our beloved and iconic world heritage treasures?! Do we revolt or get on board and make some money? There is so much wasted space out there and I think I have a few lucrative ideas to revolutionize advertising. Let’s have absolut vodka sponsor some strategically placed billboards on the golden gate bridge, or light a nike swoosh on the eiffel tower. Hell, let’s give the statue of liberty a bottle of coca cola and watch the sales roll in….

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Islands of Murano and Burano

One day we went on a vaporetto (water bus) adventure to the island of Murano where all the famous glassblowers live. There were amazing chandeliers for tens of thousands of dollars to gawk at and you can wander down alleys and sneak a peak at some of the glassblowers at work.

We went to the Glass Museum which was a little underwhelming for me only because I’ve seen some amazing modern work at the Glass Museum in Seattle. But in the lobby we had the best espresso imaginable out of a machine. The Italians sure know how to do their vending machines. We even saw one for cooked pasta but didn’t venture to try it.

We also visited another island nearby called Burano, after remembering a No Reservations episode where Anthony Bourdain tried the famous goh fish risotto at Da Ramano. We wandered quaint bridges over little canals lined with cheery multicolored houses and relaxed under a café umbrella, playing cards and sipping limoncella (a sweet lemony liquer) until early evening.

We rounded a corner off the square and were face to face with the restaurant. Only it was all shuttered up and most certainly not open for business. How heart breaking! As we got closer we saw displayed prominently on the door that they have a Michelin star. Well on the bright side, it would have severely damaged our budget. Here's an interior shot of where we would have been dining given good luck and unlimited funds.

We meandered around deflated and didn’t want to lower ourselves to second best risotto so we headed back to Venice and ate some more of that gorgonzola pizza. Don’t mess with what works.

Probably the most memorable destination in Venice was no further away then our hotel suite at Ca Valeri. We went all out, well it’s Venice! It was decked out with none-other-than murano glass chandeliers, fabric covered walls, and the obligatory feature of anything described as “big pimpin”…..a giant jacuzzi tub. How splendid was a hot bath (every morning and night) for 3 days, away from the crowds and insanity of the streets. Bliss. And the breakfast served to our room every morning, cappuccinos and croissant, wasn’t too shabby either. We definitely lived the high life….

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Venice Canals and Broken Hearts

If Venice were a holiday it would be Valentines Day. So much hope and eager anticipation for romantic interlude, such high expectations leading inevitably to sour disappointment. Were we to know then that we would fight like cats and dogs for all 11 days in Italy we would have skipped the country entirely. Love can’t be scripted by candle light and red wine alone. Two and half months on the road and we are at each others throats in the most beautiful of surroundings. We will never forget Venice, but for all the wrong reasons. Somewhere on the murky bottom of one of those picturesque canals lies my flower encrusted ring Ron gave me nearly five years ago, swimming with the goh fishies, forever entombed.

I know you want all the dirt, but however bad you think it was, trust me it was far worse so I’ll spare the melodrama and describe the lighter side of our affairs in Venice. Just keep in mind that there was some sort of meltdown brewing between and during all of this seemingly benign retelling of events.

They call it Venezia and it was built out in the ocean supposedly so its inhabitants could escape invading Germanic armies and the infamous Huns. It is most definitely sinking, as you can see stairs rise out of the water that once were ground level. Better see it now, with global warming it will be gone soon, but don’t come in the summer, it is way too hot and way, way, way too crowded.

Our first day we purposely got lost in the maze of alleys that make up the city. This was our favorite part, wandering around and down little streets, over bridges, along the canal for hours. Well, it was our favorite part until we got hungry and tried in vain to find an un-touristy place for dinner. This city is sort of like Italian Disneyland and the fake Venice backdrop in The Venetian in Vegas, you can’t really escape the set, behind the scenes is off limits.

Our biggest victory was the night we had dinner at Da Remigio which caters to mostly locals. They don’t even pretend to speak English or have an English version of the menu. Ron had a uniquely tasty version of lasagna and I had gnocchi pescatore. Of course I had the gnocchi. If you know me at all I cannot resist gnocchi if its on the menu and its on every menu in Italy so I ate it a lot! Our second course was veal scaloppini (veal in white wine sauce) which `was lovely yet not really memorable. Our salad came last, as it does in Europe, and it was literally just a bowl of sliced tomatoes that we had to dress at the table. Disappointing. As was the waiter when I asked for olive oil for the bread. Apparently this is big no no.

One day we found an osteria that had fritto misto (or freshly fried foods from heaven) and wine by the glass for 80 cents. Jackpot! Like a well trained rat on the hunt for good cheese, we sniffed the place out the next day through the veritable alley maze for over twenty minutes. Right right left over the bridge right then left again. To this day, I can’t tell you where in Venice you can find it or what street it is even on, it is only spatially programmed into my molecules to be recalled at a future and crucial date when wine from the barrel is essential to my survival.

St. Marks Square as you can imagine is a zoo. Disorienting and hot with way too many tourists. We still visited the cathedral (yet another church!) and the tower where you could see all of Venice at a birds eye view and at the top of the hour go deaf from the clanging bells. Then we went for pizza in a hole-in-the-wall near our hotel. But what a pizza! with gorgonzola and prosciutto it was molto bene. And that my friend is the extent of the Italian I know.

We decided to forgo the gondola ride. Other than it being over a hundred dollars for a half hour ride, you become the main attraction as thousands of eager tourists snap your photo from every bridge. Not exactly the romantic experience you dream about as a little girl. There is a poor mans way to ride the gondola, called a traghetto, it takes you across the grand canal for a meager fifty cents. Unfortunately we left it until the last night and by the time we returned from dinner it had closed. So much for adding a gondola to our modes of transport, we’ll have to make that camel ride happen for sure.

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