When in Rome
I was only in Rome one time before, as a fifteen-year-old traveling on a teen tour that was of the budget variety (we stayed in dorms and hostels, and ate in weird cafeterias), and I guess that coin in Trevi fountain worked because here I am again with considerably more years on me and sleeping in better beds.
But Rome was my favorite place in Italy at the time, and you know what? I still like it a lot. It’s a really big city but doesn’t feel overwhelming, and the presence of all those ruins lends it a special feeling that makes it easy to understand why it’s called The Eternal City. Plus, the absence of skyscrapers lends harmony and tradition to the landscape.
I was looking forward to the food in Italy, but so far it’s been more monotonous than expected. I love pasta and pizza, but there’s only so much pasta and pizza one can eat—and cheese and cold cuts. And yes, I’ve had other dishes, but they’re pretty plain and although fairly tasty, nothing special.
I see almost no variety in the menus no matter where I go. Even the wonderful and ubiquitous gelato—my favorite flavor is hazelnut—loses some of its punch after a while. But if that’s my worst complaint about the food, I’ll not ask you to weep for me.
The heat, on the other hand, is no fun. So, you might ask, why Rome in August, you big dummy? Well, remember that I’m only in Italy in August because of a family event in Tuscany—one of those destination affairs—and I decided to stay in Rome a couple of days before leaving because hey, how can you pass through Rome without stopping and looking around a bit?
Back in the 60s when I was last here it was in August, too, but the heat didn’t get to me as much, and the crowds were almost non-existent. I recall our bus pulling up to the Colosseum, for example, and our little group (which wasn’t so little; there were 200 of us with only two adults—a budget tour, as I said) got out and walked around with almost no one else in sight. Lines? Don’t remember any. Street hawkers of selfie sticks, scarfs with the Colosseum on them, and little laser-lighted thingumbobs? Nary a one to be seen back then, although now you have to run the gauntlet to get anywhere.
But there’s something really really pleasant about it. Maybe it’s the Italian people, who seem genuinely friendly and patient with people like me whose only words of Italian are “grazie” and a few greetings. The natives seem to recognize me as an American even before I open my mouth, which is a bit odd since I happen to look Italian (at least people in the states often think I’m Italian).
I was once told by someone that Americans can be distinguished from others not so much by their clothes—there seems to be an international style (or lack thereof) these days, although most young Italian women are a great deal more chic than I—but by their walk. This person said that Americans walk more boldly, with a sort of stride.
Maybe.
My cab driver asked me what I thought of Trump. My answer was careful; I said I probably like him better than a lot of people who ride in your cab. Trump enters conversation, even here.
I’ve been to Italy on five different trips. The Italians always correctly identify me, and my wife, as Americans. We’re never mistaken for Canadians even. I asked and was told it is mainly the clothes and the pace at which we move – more quickly and purposeful than the locals. My experience was the same as yours: every person we came in contact with was pleasant and engaging. They especially seemed to enjoy correcting my Italian, always with good humor.
As for the heat, you might note that Rome, Italy and Boston, MA occupy roughly the same latitude (42N) with Rome just a few miles more southerly. Weather is, of course, not determined by latitude but I always found this little geography fact interesting.
Once when we were there we had a driver named Mario. It was fun just talking to him. He was Sicilian and had two sons who also worked as drivers. We had had a friend who had had him as a driver and gave us his phone number. Imagine his surprise when we called him. He took us all over. It was like a tour of our own. One day, he took us to a cousin’s small restaurant after we had visited Hadrian’s Villa. The food was great. Of course, we invited Mario to eat with us. He drove right up to the Tivoli Fountain and, I suspect, had an arrangement with the cops. Visiting St Peter ad Vincula, he said “Look at the Moses statue on the right. It is the only thing worth while.” The whole three days was like that.
As we drove up to the church, he pointed out a gang of teenaged kids who would crowd around tourists and bump and jostle them while others picked pockets and purses. He had a pipe with a bicycle handle on it as a weapon in case they approached.
That was the most fun of many visits.
“Visiting St Peter ad Vincula, he said ‘Look at the Moses statue on the right. It is the only thing worth while.'” [Mike K @ 12:11]
Funny you should bring that up. When I saw Michelangelo’s Moses (in 1973) what amazed me was the intimacy. Unlike the Pieta which, even then, was distant, behind thick plexiglass, and crowded, there was no crowd around the Moses nor any apparent security other than the typical thick velvet rope. I was standing perhaps two arms lengths away from it and virtually alone. What a powerful way to see that masterpiece; under those circumstances it is less “seeing it” than sharing its presence in space. It is a memory that remains vivid even after 45 years.
Neo,
Thanks for the posts from Italy. Kudos for keeping up with current event postings as well as personal vacation observations. Not many would have do so.
Unlike the Pieta which, even then, was distant, behind thick plexiglass, and crowded, there was no crowd around the Moses
Yes, it is amazing. He dropped us off at one end of the Forum and picked us iupa the other end, which is where St Peter ad Vincula is.
We also had fun with the temple with the lion’s mouth on the wall. It was used in “Roman Holiday” and I had my daughters stick their hands in it.
If you speak Italian, you might check the news about the Pope. Not mere negligence it is now being alleged regarding the homosexual scandal in the clergy, but ideologically driven complicity in the cover-up.
Oops; you did say that you don’t speak it other than for greetings.
I worked in London for two years in the mid 80’s. After about a year I could tell Americans from Europeans. Clothes plus posture (stride, head up, shoulders square, etc.) I could even see the difference between Europeans who had worked for my company in the States for several years and other Europeans.
I had a somewhat different experience in Rome than the one you had, Neo. My wife, my son and I arrived at the train station in Rome after a long train ride from Paris. My impression of the train station in Rome was that it was somewhat like the train station in Mexico City and believe me that is no compliment. Rome seemed kinda’ dirty and hectic to us.
I did enjoy going through St. Peter’s and the Vatican.
We stayed at a boutique hotel near The Spanish Steps. A cat howled all night in a courtyard behind us and the air conditioner leaked in our room. AND…we were there during the World Cup…and I think Italy beat Argentina while we were there…which was celebrated on the Spanish Steps all night…LOL.
However, I did enjoy the food in Rome. There was a restaurant near the Spanish Steps that had fabulous food.
And….Florence (our second stop in Italy) was AMAZING. We loved everything about that city…including the food. We stayed at the same hotel, the outside of which was viewed in the movie “Room with a View” just before the “Miss Honeychurch” saw the death of a man on a square.
However, I did enjoy the food in Rome. There was a restaurant near the Spanish Steps that had fabulous food.
We stayed in a hotel across the Borghese Gardens from the steps called, The Hotel Lord Byron.
When we were looking for places to eat, I said I didn’t want to eat in the hotel dining room. It turned out that the dining room in that hotel was one of the best places in Rome.
We also ate at the Hasler roof restaurant.
Unlike the Pieta which, even then, was distant, behind thick plexiglass…
You were there the year after a loon with a hammer vandalized the Pietá. Hence, the Plexiglas.
Hah! We have Indian friends, born and raised there, who say people can tell they come from America when they go home to visit — and charge them more in the markets.
John Croft,
I worked in Berlin for three years in the early 1980s. After I was there for awhile I could spot the Americans a block away by the way they carried themselves. When I was there we dressed like Germans, drove cars with German license plates and tried to look like Germans because we were supposed to be inconspicuous. I don’t know if we fooled anyone.
In most of Latin America, by virtue of being of European descent with blue-eyes and dirty blond hair, I am pegged as American. Even in Argentina, populated mostly by people of European descent, I could still be identified as an American. This is most likely because I dressed more casually than the Argentine male, who tended to wear blue or white shirts with blue or black dress pants. One consequence of being pegged as an American was that on occasion, people would come up to me and denounce the military regime.
A family friend took a trip to Italy when she was 60 with her aunt/stepmother, who was 5-10 years older. She was born in the US, but spoke only Italian until she started grade school. Even though both she and her aunt/stepmother spoke Italian, she was always identified as an American, and her aunt as Italian. Well, her aunt was born in Italy.
I’m a long time reader, first-time commenter.
Please don’t leave Rome without having a Carciofi Alla Giudea (Jewish Roman Artichoke)! I’ve never seen them anywhere but in Rome. There are some restaurants ie Giggetto in the Ghetto that serve them.
http://www.elizabethminchilli.com/2016/02/eat-artichokes-rome/
Brian Swisher,
Yes I was aware of that. Didn’t see the need to mention it. Thanks, though.
Americans are easy to spot, in general.
You can tell Chinese raised in the west from those from Asia just by the way they hold their faces. Lucy Liu is 100% Chinese, but clearly American.
Jaws often give it away — people hold their mouths differently. Americans often have a hint of an under-bite, and almost always have had their teeth fixed if well off.
Also I can tell if people are speaking English without hearing them, because the mouth movements and rhythms differ. So they can often tell you are a foreigner on the way up by *how* you converse.
Throw in clothes, especially shoes, and body movement. The Italians can probably tell based on your brand of sunglasses. Are you wearing a cap or hat?
I used to play a game of “guess the nationality” of people when I worked at an airport. It’s hard in general, but US isn’t.
I’m a Kiwi. In Europe I tend to get mistaken for German, except in Germany. Spotting that I’m a foreigner is easy.
I was there last may, sudden and quick trip. my favourite feature of the city were the occasional water fountains here there and anywhere. water was good, and cooling on the hot days.
Two thoughts:
1) “I probably like him better than a lot of people who ride in your cab”. My initial reaction to this was “Why doesn’t Neo like the people who ride in his cab?”
2) “This person said that Americans walk more boldly, with a sort of stride.” George W. Bush caught a lot of flak from Democrats for walking with a similar, let’s say, verve. Hence my favorite W quote “Some folks look at me and see a certain swagger, which in Texas is called ‘walking’.”
Yes, there are some really great kosher restaurants in the ghetto. The Jews of Rome have been there a long, long time — the ghetto is right behind the Forum. Walk up the steps behind the Arch of Titus and you’re there. Last time we were there, we had a tour of Jewish Rome. The guide was a grad student who was working in the Vatican Library going through their Jewish loot. (Can I say that?) The day we were supposed to have our tour of the Library, she couldn’t make it. So we had the special pass she got for us, but without her, all they would let us in to see was the entrance to the archives. There were Jewish tombstones, in Greek, there. Boy, would I really have liked to get into that Library!