Yesterday and Today

Yesterday, bright and sunny in the morning!

Today - a wet, wet morning.

the walk to the metro involved dodging puddles.

The iphone camera offers an impressionistic view of the street.

Finally arriving at the office, i visit the cafeteria.

'vorrei un tè e un cornetto?'

(may I please have tea and a croissant?)

That is the corner 'office' where I begin most of my in-the-office days. There are no power outlets, but there is usually wifi. This morning the wifi wasn't working. No problem. My work today involved editing documents and webpage mockups.  Sergio sometimes jokes that I am bringing a start-up culture to the agency.  There is little chance of that, though Sergio scheduled one of our meeting in the cafeteria last week.  He and I often meet there to talk things over. Since much of our day is spent Skyping each other, he on the first floor (zero floor to Italians) and I on the 6th, we would likely never see each other if we didn't meet for coffee.

The commute home was terrifically wet. Arrived home with my computer bag soaked despite my efforts to keep the umbrella biased in favor of protecting the bag.  Peeled off wet clothes and put them in the washer, then emptied the computer bag and hung it over the heater.

Warmed up soup for dinner. Drying myself out.

A rainy Sunday afternoon

I was looking for a cafe for a little reading and writing.  Walked over to Trastevere to give that neighborhood a try.

Ponte Cestio

Ponte Fabricio

the only spot of color in the day

Bones

Saturday morning's transit plans were fouled by traffic mayhem in the city center caused by some unknown municipal activities. With the bus spontaneously re-routed,  I ended up much further north than I had planned.

 not exactly lost

Back-tracked my way south and a bit east. Despite the re-routing and lost time, it was still possible to briefly visit  Trevi Fountain and the Spanish Steps before meeting up the Landlady.

 Trevi Fountain

 near the Spanish Steps

 a few of the Spanish Steps

Walked along Via Sistina and took this photo for Mom, just to let her know she'd be right at home here in Rome. 

walking along via Sistina reminded a bit of San Francisco.  

The Landlady had suggested meeting at Fontana del Tritone in Piazza Barberini.  This is a Bernini fountain - and Romans, both natives and transplants like the landlady seem particularly fond of Bernini.  On the edge Piazza Barberini, is another Bernini fountain - Fountain of the Bees.  

When Landlady arrived,  we shared lunch spiced up by the landlady's tales of her family.   After lunch, we walked across the piazza and visited the Cemetery of the Capuchins, a catacomb where thousands of bones of the deceased monks were used decoratively. It was moving to see the stacks and stacks of skulls and knowing each one represent a monk.  Who were these men? Did they find what they came here for?  What was it like for the living monks to create these 'decorative' rooms from the remains of their brothers.  The Landlady translated one of the inscriptions, it was approximately, 'This is what you were before.  This is what you will become.' (Photos are not allowed in the cemetery.)

The Landlady then provided a mini-tour of via Veneto pointing out the American Embassy. ('This is your embassy.') and some of the haunts made famous in Fellini's films.  I gather this area has been quite a draw for visitors. 

American Embassy

 Near the entrance of Villa Borghese

We got as far as the gate to Villa Borghese when we parted ways as I had planned to see the Harry Potter film. 

A short bus trip brought me to Piazza del Popolo - these piazza's get more and more amazing - and a few more footsteps to the theater.  good fortune brought me to the theater 2 minutes before the screening, though the only seat left was a front-row seat. (the theater sold tickets by specific seat assignment.)  Fortunately, this is one of two theaters in Rome that offer Italian sub-titles rather than dubbed translation. 

metro line A with a transfer to metro line B  and a walk from the Colosseum and through the Piazza Campdoglio and finally home.

it is different here, #1

About a month ago, I posted a technical question on The Well about configuring internet access to my iPhone via my ethernet-connected laptop.  True to the spirit of the Well,  several people jumped up to give advice that didn't answer my question and one of these replied,

"I'd be willing to bet there's a Starbucks w/wifi within a 1/4 mile from you."

Actually, there isn't.  Lots of excellent coffee and no Starbucks.  And 'coffee' generally means an espresso. In the morning, it is acceptable to ask for a cappuccino, which is my preferred coffee drink - and I do get dirty looks sometimes if I order a cappuccino after lunch.  (This is as Choco had warned me.)  If you want something similar to drip-coffee, you ask for an Americano which is an espresso with added water.  And forget about mugs or thermal cups.  Coffee is consumed within minutes and your portion never exceeds 4 ounces.   There is no custom of lingering over a thermal mug of coffee - one of the things I most definitely miss about Seattle.  And I knew I would.  I don't think I will ever again have the same relationship with coffee that I did while living in Seattle.

~~~

Another thing that is different, both refreshingly and perplexingly, is the way businesses shutter themselves up when they close.  There is a restaurant that I pass every day as I walk to and from the metro to get to the office. It has been highly recommended to me.  But every time I pass by there is no indication that the establishment is ever open.  No menu in the window, no notice of hours of operation.  Last night, while walking back home from dinner, I passed the place and was startled to see the lights on and people inside.   For another example, there is this small grocery around the corner from the apartment.  Here is what it looks like when it is open and when it is closed. 

As you can see, when it is closed, there is no hint that a business operates behind that roll-up door.  This explains why that first night in Rome, when I walked around Laurentina to get a sense of the neighborhood it seemed like a ghost town.  Even the following morning when I walked to the office before 9am, everything was shuttered closed.  Several days later when I got out during lunch time, I discovered a lively commercial life on the street.  But don't be surprised to find a note tacked on the door between 2 and 4pm saying they'll be back later.

November 22

this date, forty-seven years later, still vibrates with feeling and implication

the Tyrrhenian Sea

After drying out from yesterday's deluge, and seeing that today's forecast was no better than yesterday's, the counter-intuitive option of going to the sea suddenly rose to the top.  Within a few weeks of my arrival in Rome, I've been wanting to go - mostly to get my geographic bearings calibrated.  A train ride seemed like a good idea regardless of the weather.

The Tyrrhenian Sea is the body of water directly west of the central section of Italy's 'boot'.  The islands of Corsica, Sardinia and Sicily form a loose boundary to the west and south of the sea.  These details are new to me.  My ignorance of European geography in general, and Italian geography specifically, is a daily embarrassment these last two months.  The same could be said for European/Roman history.  I am often huddling with the Georgina Masson/ John Fort book Gitta and Bliss gave me before this trip, trying to fill in the huge gaps.

Checking only to see what train was required - and with no greater plan than to see the sea and have lunch - I headed out. The train was a normal metro car - in fact it was just another line on the Roman metro system, requiring no additional fare.

Arrived in the coastal city of Lido di Ostia shortly after noon and began walking westward figuring, as Lawrence of Arabia did,  that I'd eventually get to the sea.  I did - but found it initially inaccessible due to beachfront buildings.  So this was my first glimpse of the Tyrrhenian Sea...

When I finally got to an open area, the wind was so powerful that within seconds the beach sand was under my contact lenses and it was impossible to continue.   So I backed away from the beach and sought a restaurant for lunch.  I found a place that was empty - it was still early for lunch by Italian standards - and ordered an arugula and tomato pizza.  By the time the pizza arrived, the place was filling up with locals - or at least folks familiar to the staff.  After paying the bill, I walked out on the street and wrapped my head in scarf and decided to try the sea again.  When I neared the area where the sand was blowing up from the beach, I turned my back to the wind and walked backwards until I was past the dryer part of the beach.      

Diving and fishing are prohibited

It isn't often that I fear dropping my camera, but the wind was so ferocious, I put the strap around my neck as a precaution.  When rain drops started appearing- my little travel umbrella was no match for this wind - it seemed a good idea to head back.

Back to the Metro and switching trains to get off at the Colosseo.  The wild weather was in full force there and my umbrella was pulled inside out several times.

A rainy evening in my warm apartment going through the photos.  Now for guitar practice and then bedtime...

Santa Maria Maggiore

while in China, my boss gave me a New Yorker Magazine to read.  in one of its profiles, it describes a troubled period in a man's life. he tried to stay with his mother but after a few days "lived and hiked in dense eucalyptus forests…thick with mosquitoes whose bites scarred his face:

"Your inner voice quiets  down," he told me.  "Internal dialogue is stimulated by a preparatory desire to speak, but it is not actually useful if there are no people around. "  He added, "I don't want to sound too Buddhist. But your vision of yourself disappears."

~~~

Today is the first day of my stay in Rome that qualifies as 'miserable'.  Except for a few minutes of dramatic thunder - which often activates something in me that is momentarily more accepting of torrential rain - it is just a rainy, rainy, gray day.

I visited Santa Maria Maggiore today.  The gloomy weather made for a gloomy visit as the basilica was dark and damp.  For an off-season, rainy day, it had a lot of visitors as well.   Santa Maria Maggiore is one of those churches that has a special coin box - and for one euro you can have two minutes of illumination of some feature of the church.   In this case, you could choose to illuminate the ceiling, the walls or the apse. 

The sides of the basilica were lined with confessionals-  and many had a paper list tacked on it indicating the languages spoken by the confessor.  Two of these confessionals had a priest sitting in them and I was briefly tempted to enter one of them and ask if he'd ever given a penance that changed someone's life.

Photography is discouraged in this basilica, so these photographs were made in the sheltered entrance and are of the details of two of the decorative doors.

The hands of Mary and Jesus on this door are burnished by the many hands of faithful coming and grasping them.

evening light

Caponigro

Eid-al-Adha

Today is Eid-al-Adha, the Festival of Sacrifice, a Muslim holiday.  The office considers this an official holiday, so I had the day off. I decided it was time to brave the Vatican.  I began with the museum, which is entered from the back (or northern) side of the Vatican.

Today, the Sphere within a Sphere was being subjected to attention involving workmen and a small crane.  This meant access to its front was roped off. At the time, I didn't know what I was missing.  Only this evening, when I did a little internet searching did I learn the name of the piece and that I hadn't seen its 'face'.

 A detail of the Slaughter of the Ox

Angelo Biancini's piece on St Paul

(Detail)

Silenus with the child Dionysus

No photos are allowed in the Sistine Chapel,  This appears to be part of a the deal the Vatican made with a Japanese company,  the Nippon Television Network Corporation, for the restoration that was done between 1984 and 1994.  It is challenging to sit in a space with such a powerful reputation and slowly let the hoopla drop away until you are just left with the place itself (and the crowd of other visitors and the museum staff who keep intervening to keep photos from being taken.)

After visiting the museum I tried to visit St Peter's Basilica itself - but the line was long and moving slowly. So that will wait for another day.