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| Nativity scene, private chapel at Chiesa del Gesu |
I went to Rome and Florence in February with my friend Jonell. We had never traveled together before. Our biggest disagreement was about sparkling or still water. She likes sparkling, I like still. We were compatible on the key measures--how much sightseeing, how much walking, how much pasta, and how much sleep.
Rome
It was Jonell’s first trip to Italy and I couldn't wait to show her Rome. Someone had told her that Rome was “just another big city.” I would like to shoot anyone who describes Rome that way.
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| Temple of Antoninus and Faustina, the Roman Forum |
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| Trevi Fountain |
So I marched her over to the Spanish Steps the first evening, and plunged her into the [crowds at] Trevi Fountain the next morning, and she quickly realized Rome is like no other city in the world. Plus she liked the shopping.
Our first morning in Rome, we took a golf cart tour with guide Oscar whose mother is Italian-American and father is Italian. Oscar studied classics and history at Johns Hopkins (no, he didn't find Charm City very charming); he spoke perfect English. and, man, did he know his stuff. He told us all about the mythology, the history, the religion, the architecture. We stopped at Chiese du Jesu whose interior he thinks rivals the Sistene Chapel. He took us to Circus Maximus and explained why the Romans were not sadistic, bloodthirsty violent people who liked to watch people die. Ancient Romans went to work at five years old, married and had children at thirteen, and died by forty. So, amusements like deadly chariot races and gladiator fights made their lives look pretty good. He took us to Aventine Hill, covered in orange trees, and then over the bridge to Trastevere, a quiet, "bohemian" neighborhood with cobblestone streets, beloved by artists and celebrities.
Oscar dropped us off at his favorite Trastevere restaurant, the oh-so-authentic, Hostaria da Corrado. The waiter threw a paper bag with bread on our table and served us one of the best plates of tagliatelle cacio y pepe we had on the trip.
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| Ferragamo Museum famous feet |
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| Ferragamo Museum |
Speaking of shoes, after lunch my feet hurt so much that I had to crawl into a taxi that doubled as an ambulance. Jonell directed us to the luxury department store Rinascente where I bought Uggs and spent inordinate time with the Valentino cosmetics staff.
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| These boots aren't made for walking |
The next day we went on a tour of the Roman Forum, Palatine Hill and the Colosseum. Larry took us on a fast-paced and educational swing through the Forum, up the stairs to the top of Palatine Hill and then over to the Colosseum. At 11 a.m. when we arrived the Colosseum had already reached its capacity of 3,000 visitors, so we had to wait. Our guide bemoaned the fact that “there is no off-season anymore” quickly adding “That’s okay, we are always happy to see you!”
That afternoon we strolled around the park at Villa Borghese, four miles in circumference, filled with sculptures, temples, ponds, people lying in the grass, holding hands, and other indicators of la dolce vita.
The IQ Hotel was modern and charming and staffed by a bilingual army of who didn’t even wait for an ill-pronounced “buongiorno” before launching into English. Apparently Americans are easy to spot. Chocolate covered espresso beans on the registration counter expedited the check-in process.
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| On the train to Florence |
Florence (just another small city)
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| Ponte Vecchio |
No. Nobody says that. It’s a thriving medieval city for God’s sake. How’s that for an oxymoron? The waitress at Osteria Vecchio Vicolo where we had pizza, wanted to make sure I used the barcode for wireless, pointing out that it the building we were in was from the 1200’s.
The first morning we went on a walking tour of Florence with Riccardo Nevi. It was raining (the only rain during the trip) but Riccardo made it work, we stood under cover in the courtyard of the Uffizi and later at loggia signoria. He showed us the difference between Medieval (the Bargello) and Renaissance architecture, like the Palazzo Bartolini Saimbeni with the inscription "reward for not sleeping" juxtaposed with the family crest featuring three poppies.
Riccardo anticipated our interest in the gold shops on the Ponte Vecchio. "Before you ask, these stores are doing something right to stay in business for 200 years. But the only time a Florentine shops there is for 'apology jewelry.'"
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| Uffizi |
The Uffizi gave me a giant pain in the neck. Of course the museum is unspeakably magnificent. But between looking down at the 126 steps to the main gallery, twisting my neck to adjust the audio tour, looking up at the paintings, and throwing my head back to see the ceilings, I got a serious tourist injury, the craned neck.
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| Siena Cathedral |
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| Santa Croce Basilica |
Florence was compact and easy to get around. But we still got lost. A lot. Using the map app, what appeared to be a five-minute walk would turn into a twelve-minute walk because we’d made a wrong turn and were not redirected. We were both pretty mad at Siri by the end. But oh well, we got extra steps, and we often found serendipitous shopping along the [wrong] way.
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Bargello Museum, former Florence prison |
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| Siena |
In Oltrano we made our way to Santo Spirito the home of Michelangelo’s wooden cross, a present to the priest who allowed him into the dead room at night to study the anatomy of corpses. I learned this and more in The Agony and the Ecstasy which, despite the name is not an agonizing read. We made it to the astounding Pitti Palace and Boboli Gardens. We went to Richard’s favorite, the Bargello Museum. We took the train to the medieval village of Siena.
Mangiate Bene
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| Knock-out gnocci in gorgonzola sauce with pistachios |
Before we went to Japan last summer people told Darr and me not to worry about restaurants because everything would be delicious. Jonell and I found the same to be true in Italy. We chose restaurants based on a set of scientific factors—we couldn’t walk another step; we were starving; people were sitting outside and looked happy. And we never struck out once.
Jonell, a vegetarian, was primarily limited to pastas and pizza. It takes no time on an Italian menu to find yourself ordering wild boar. I ordered carbonara a few times which was dotted with lardons. I’ve always wanted to use the word "lardon" in a sentence.
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| Tagliatelle cacio e pepe |
The point is, every bowl of pasta was perfect whether in a red sauce, a white sauce, a pesto sauce, tossed with artichoke hearts and capers, or just topped with cheese. Restaurant highlights in Rome: Maestro Bistro, Tre Scalini, Café Martini , Babingtons; and in Florence Grande Nuti, Obica, Il Bottegone. I don’t know why we Americans can’t sink our teeth into cooking pasta al dente.
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| Dessert the one day we skipped gelato |
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| Mona Lisa by Denis Ouch |
The Frame Hotel in Florence has 24 rooms and is intimate and boutiquey. The man who stole the Mona Lisa from the Louvre in 1911 hid the painting in our hotel, which was then called Albergo Tripoli Italia. The Frame collaborated with American artist Denis Ouch to paint a variety of Modern Monas scattered around the hotel.
One morning I came roaring into the breakfast room and the hostess looked at me and said, “Stai Tranquillo.” “Tranquillo,” she repeated, and mimicked deep breathing. No translation was needed. I had to slow the F down and relax.
But it was so damned exciting and stimulating and thrilling to be in Italy, to travel, to be immersed in a different culture and language, to see people from all over the world, and to get a new perspective on life. How am I expected to be "tranquillo?"
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| With Jonell on Uffizi rooftop, Palazzo Vecchio in background |
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