The Bride, The Groom, and the Trastevere

I hope my post about this day doesn't come across as too precious or sentimental, because that's not the way I experienced it. When I travel, the "perfect" day for me is a mixture of sentiment, harshness, and an assault on all of the senses. That is how I know it's real life.


The Enoteca Corsi is little restaurant back behind the Pantheon that I'd been to once before, and had been wanting to go back to ever since. It's only open for three hours at lunch time, and has a small menu (four or five main dishes) that changes frequently. They also have several larger, "family-style" dining tables, so if you go alone, you might end up eating with strangers. This was the case when I went on Saturday. Sort of.

I was sitting next to an American couple who I thought looked a little familiar. Sure enough, after a few minutes the girl leaned over and said, "I think we were sitting next to you at dinner the other night."
That's right! They were at the table next to me at il Gabriello two nights ago. Small world! Turns out they were on their honeymoon and had already been to Venice, Tuscany, and the Cinque Terre. So we got to chatting about lovely Italian destinations, travel in general, how much we like the Enoteca Corsi, etc. They were so nice!

Veal and potatoes. There's no messing around with fancy presentation here; mama puts the food on a plate in the kitchen, some angels weep over it for a minute or two, and then I get to eat it. OK, I don't have proof of the weeping angels, but I have seen the mama and she was dressed all in white. She was also sporting a white paper chef's hat and looked like she could probably double as the security detail if needed. Behave yourselves, everyone.

So eventually, The Bride and Groom and I finished eating, had our checks, and were just sitting there shooting the breeze, when the waitress power walked by our table and clunked down two random glass bottles. One was an old white wine bottle that had Limoncello in it, the other was a mineral water bottle that had what looked like mud in it. Upon further inspection we determined that, yes, it was, in fact,...gulp...chocolate liqueur.

Well, we were a little confused by the whole situation, especially since we had already paid for lunch. Did she leave these here by mistake? Were her hands full and she needed a place to set them down for a minute? But then the waitress reappeared with three liqueur glasses and nicely told us to be cool and drink our treats.
So we said grazie about a dozen times, and then we had a really good time.



Chocolate liqueur in a re-purposed water bottle. I don't care why it's in there. I just know that we have 2.5 inches of muddy delirium left before it's gone.


The Groom expounds on the merits of each beverage and why they are soooo (surprisingly) good together.

"Honey, you have to try this. Hey Monica, will you take a picture of this for our wedding album?"
"My pleasure, guys." (I hope you're married for 100 years).

After lunch I had to make a little detour for a coffee break before I could consider doing anything productive with the rest of the day.

An hour later, walking down a side street: a little reminder of my lunchtime friends.

Next, I decided to embark on a little walking tour of the Trastevere neighborhood. This is a traditionally working-class area (although it is apparently becoming more popular and pricier) across the river from the city center. The name Trastevere literally means "across the Tiber". The atmosphere here is a little more salt-of-the-earth than downtown Rome, with a lot of cool medieval buildings (or remnants of them) mixed in to give the neighborhood some context.

See that little brown stone tower with the cross on top of it? That's the oldest working church bell tower in Rome. It was built in 1069. Way to hang in there, little tower!



One thousand years ago: a synagogue. Now: a restaurant. If these walls could talk...
Rome has the oldest Jewish community outside of Palestine, and many of them lived in Trastevere until they were ghetto'd by Pope Paul IV in the 16th century.

The next stop on my Trastevere walk was the Church of St. Cecilia. Apparently, also a popular site for weddings because...

I came across newlywed couple #3 in the courtyard of the church.

OK, how much Limoncello did I have at lunch, anyway?! Is this some kind of marital-themed pink elephant dream? If all of these newlyweds suddenly become technicolored and start dancing a jig in my personal space, I'm going to be concerned. Although that could be kind of fun...


Church of St. Cecilia: exterior and courtyard.
Whew. That couple doesn't look like they're going to start dancing in the near future.

Let's review the story of St. Cecilia.
Cecilia was a Roman woman who converted to Christianity during a time of persecution. She waited until her wedding night to reveal her conversion to her new (pagan) husband, and also informed him that she wanted to remain chaste. Oh my. Fortunately, an angel intervened on Cecilia's behalf. Her husband converted to Christianity and decided to make a career of burying martyred Christians in the catacombs. They were both eventually executed.
Ah, yes. Now I see why this church is such a popular place to get married.


Interior of the Church of St. Cecilia. The canopy over the altar is from the 13th century, the chairs are from couple #3's wedding.


Statue of Cecilia encased below the church altar.
No, this is not a depiction of Cecilia being coy on her wedding night. Apparently, her remains became the target of a relic hunt during the Counter-Reformation. The story goes that when her tomb was opened, her body was still perfectly intact, but turned to dust a moment later. Among the witnesses to this event was a sculptor named Stefano Maderno. He made this statue based on his memory of how Cecelia looked before fulfilling the old "dust to dust" adage.

Next stop (after wandering around some side streets to see what's what): The Church of Santa Maria in Trastevere.

This is one of the oldest churches in Rome (4th century), and the piazza is a major meeting place for the neighborhood. The exterior of the church is interesting enough, but what I really love is the little scene going on in the plaza.

The interior of St. M. in T. A lot of interesting and beautiful things to look at in here. Example: the granite pillars and the marble for the floor mosaic were pilfered from ancient Roman ruins.

More wandering through the neighborhood on my way home:

Dinner al fresco in the Trastevere

Just in case I hadn't yet picked up on the theme of the day, these two were standing outside of the Castel Sant' Angelo with a bottle of champagne as I walked back to the hotel. I knew the picture quality would be poor because it was so dark out, but I took one anyway because I had to add them to my collection. I guess this makes Bride and Groom #5 if you count Cecilia and The Crypt Keeper. Cheers.

Villa Adriana

Outside of Tivoli (a town about 30 miles from Rome) are the ruins of a huge Roman villa built by the Emperor Hadrian as an escape from city living. Hadrian was Emperor from 117-138 AD. A couple of tidbits I picked up from the handy Hadrian's Villa Audiotour: he was born in current-day Seville, Spain, and, according to his biographer, Spartanius, he "was a man with hair obedient to the comb." Divine.

Model of what the villa looked like back in the good old days. Quite the place!

The general setting. I have to admit, this is a nice break from the city!

"The Canopus" named after the Canopus canal on the Nile River, which this pool is supposed to represent. Hadrian had most of his villa modeled after iconic sites he'd heard about or seen in his extensive travels (Egypt, Greece, etc.). It was kind of his own fantasy land.

Carytids along the Canopus (based on female figures in the Athenian Acropolis)

The Serapeum is a half-domed room that sits at the end of the Canopus pool. The thought is that it was an open-air dining room of sorts. A waterfall would cascade down behind those columns making it a private place where Hadrian could feast or chat with his cronies.

"Hey Flavius, what do you think we should do to keep those pesky Celtic barbarians out of our northern territory? I'm thinking a wall, maybe..."

Inspecting the "Small Baths." I have a lot of pictures of myself at Hadrian's Villa because it was my dad's special request that I go here. Hi, Dad! It's hot out, but look, I'm wearing long pants, closed-toed shoes, and a hat (and I have a jacket in my bag)! Aren't you proud of me?

View of the Heliocaminus baths (heated by the sun and a little furnace room under the floor) and a little bit of the Maritime theater in the background.

This is all that's left of The Imperial Palace. Kind of heart-breaking isn't it?

Because it must have been really beautiful. This is an area of original tile in the Hospitalia (guest rooms).

What does it all mean???

Back in the SPQR

That's right, it's back to Rome, Amici. Because I just can't get enough, that's why. And because that's where my hotel reservations are. And because if I get on a northbound train, there's no telling where I might end up.

Anyway, my first night back I decided to spring for a nice dinner. Usually, when I travel alone, I have my biggest meal in the afternoon and hit a grocery store for dinner. I have many reasons for doing this, but the main one is that it's cheaper. But now I'm in Rome and it's Springtime, which means that the dinner hour doesn't really get going until 8:00 or 9:00 and people are out living la dolce vita in the streets until all hours of the night. And I'm just itching to get out and rub elbows with some sweaty Romans, and people-watch in a nice restaurant.

Il Gabriello: What a nice little place! On a side street, in a basement, with medieval arches. And good food. Dinner=Arugula salad with pears and Parmesan cheese, steamed mussels with some kind of tasty tomato and wine sauce, strawberries with lemon and sugar. Mmmmm!

The Spanish Steps turn into a big par-tay in the evening.

View from the top of the steps: looks like a good time, right? It is.

The roasted chestnuts apparently aren't such a hot commodity when it's 75 degrees out.

Another happenin' piazza (there's a little bar in the far corner). The columns on the right are ruins of a temple built to honor the emperor Hadrian in 146 AD

The Pantheon, an obelisk, a couple, two police officers, a waiter, and the moon.

View of Castel Sant' Angelo from across the Tiber.

St. Peter's with traffic.

Aahh, that's much more peaceful! Nighty night!

Farewell, Firenze!

Out and about in Florence.





In addition to my love affair with gelato, I have recently made intimate friends with the Sicilian Granita. Fruit and ice. Sounds simple, tastes mmmmmmm...

Street artists working some wonders with chalk. This painting (Supper at Emmaus by Caravaggio) does not reside in Florence, it's at the National Gallery in London, but it's still a cool

choice.

Museum day! Unfortunately (for the blog), no photos allowed inside either of the museums that I visited this day. So top we have a relatively boring picture of the outside of the Uffizi. Prior to my Uffizi immersion, I went to the Science Museum which, in Florence's case, means an incredible collection of Renaissance measuring devices, scientific tools, surgical equipment (gulp), etc. They have quadrants, astrolabes, armillary spheres, clocks, and telescopes (including Galileo's). They also, apparently have Galileo's middle finger, but the museum is under renovation and only a part of their collection is on display right now. Why G.'s finger didn't make the cut, I can't fathom. On my way back from the museum, I spied this sculpture of a little Renaissance man using a quadrant on the side of the Duomo. I figured that was an appropriate visual representation of the experience.

I love the way the statues are arranged in the Palazzo Vecchio. There are three prominent ones that kind of dominate the square: Neptune, (a copy of) Michelangelo's David, and Hercules. Hercules is on the right, off in his own world, ready to bash in someone's brains with a club. David is in the middle, in all of his...glory, ready to kill Goliath, and then there's Neptune on the left. I think his facial expression is supposed to be pensive, but the way the statues are positioned, he's looking right over at David. In this context, I promise you, the look on his face mutters, "Show off."

As I was having my thrills with Neptune and David, I passed a guy who looked for a moment at David, and said to his British female companion, "That is because I am French and he is not." Man, I wish I had heard the first part of that conversation. I can't make this stuff up.

Goodbye, Florence!

I'm always torn between not wanting to leave the city I'm in, and being excited to see the next destination. Maybe I should become a professional vagrant. I just like to go places. And I especially like to go places on the train. With cappuccino.

More Duomo

The inside of the Duomo isn't really as exciting as the outside. Most of the artwork and sculptures have been moved to a museum for one reason or another (apparently they had a big flood here in the 60s). I do like the floor, though.


Oh yeah, and the inside of the dome is pretty impressive. It's a rendering of The Last Judgement by Vasari. See that figure at about 5:00 near the center encircled by golden light? That's Jesus. The jumbled, reddish mess around the bottom of the scene is a graphic display of condemned souls writhing in Hell. I like to imagine being a peon church-goer in the late 1500s (when this was painted), staring up at the ceiling during the sermon, seeing Jesus sitting on his judgement throne, seeing demons torture the damned, and thinking, "Have I been behaving myself? Do I trust the structural integrity of this dome?"


Got this close up of "weeping and gnashing of teeth" when I climbed the dome.

I have a thing for Gothic churches and the freaky faces one can usually find decorating their interiors. The Duomo doesn't have a whole lot, but there were a few good goblins on the side altars.

Treasures carved in the portico around one of the southern doors:

"Does it feel cold? Is it as smooth as it looks? What did they use to carve the little toes on that bird? This is so cool!"

P.S. Amy, there's your Florentine insect.