Food and Rain in Roma

Rome by Night
Outside it’s still raining. Yucks. Not far away we find the Art Studio Café, where one can paint china and crockery, make mosaics etc.


I’m reading Mister Pip!

We have nice tea, sandwiches and cakes.




Lewis’ fantastic smoothie

The staff are really friendly and it’s reasonably priced. We start to realise what tourist traps Florence and in particular Venice are.



Next up, a walk through town now the sun is down. Popolo Square, up along the edge of the Borghese, down the Spanish steps,



along to the Trevi fountain,



where we all throw a coin over our shoulder into the water, apparently ensuring that we will come back. Finally the Pantheon, which unluckily has just closed, so we only see it from the outside.



We find a restaurant nearby in Via del Seminario, one that we passed and I noticed – Osteria Antonio maybe?



Inside it’s packed and cramped, and there are only two girls serving, who are rushed off their feet, yet still are friendly and provide good service. Foodwise, Pippi has black truffle with fresh pasta, which absolutely stinks the whole place out, to the point of putting the rest of us off our food!



Mine is flower of zucchini, then meatballs,



and a plate of mountain ham cut off the large ham on the adjacent table.



I also try Pippi’s plate of creamy mozzarella. A month’s calories in a delicious fist-sized bundle!!



Whenever eating in Italy, I remember the laws set down by Ursula, my Italian friend and old lab partner. You English are disgusting, she would say, after I suggested having a hot chocolate (sweet) with a sandwich (savoury), or tried to have some salad in the same mouthful as pasta. Italians know the proper way to do things, and I like it (though I still don’t play by the rules – a cappuccino is fine by me any time of the day!).

We’ve taken to having house wine by the litre carafe in most places, and here is no exception.


Lewis’ fresh pasta with pork

Last train at 10pm (!), so we get home by bus from Piazza Mancini, which we reach by tram from the north gate of Rome. Works quite well really, except on the bus we haven’t a clue where we are, with no landmarks around La Storta to help us get off the bus at the right place.



Colosseum and Pizza
Next morning, we try to start early, it’s Pippi’s last day! We run later than planned, but are still in town by half ten. It’s pouring with rain AGAIN! First stop, the Colosseum, which I dodge by offering to take Pippi’s bag to left luggage at Termini station! Lewis, meanwhile, gets soaked! It’s such bad weather that they don’t take a single photo. This from the next day:



I read my book and wait for them outside. The tickets are valid for both, but it’s too wet for Palatine Hill, where the Forum, Senate, etc are, so we tube to Spagna, the shopping area, for food and shopping.

First up, lunch Gusto, a swanky designer place that wouldn’t look out of place in New York.



They actually turn out to be friendly, and as a pizzeria it’s actually good value.





We have pizza Napoli style, which means a large crust round the outside and slightly breadier base (nothing like “deep pan” though). There are just four kinds – Margerita, Napoli, Proscuitto and Marinana. First you know, second with anchovies, third is ham,



and fourth without cheese, but with plenty of oregano and some garlic.



All delicious simple food, the way genuine Italian cooking is meant to be.





Shopping isn’t my thing, so I leave the others and after just popping into Fendi briefly in my wet and so squeaky sandals, I wait for the others in McDs with a 1 euro cappa and free wifi, before we head back to Termini together. Lewis and Pippi are feeling sick from over-indulgence in ice-cream, Pippi’d found another place with chocolate mousse gelati!

We send her off on the half-hourly airport express train (11 euros), then double back to Spagna again for a recommended Enoteca just near the Spanish Steps. Incidentally, Lewis noticed on Roman maps that in the early ones, Spain was Iberia, then it became Spagna later. Was this something the Romans decided?

The Enoteca Antica has some great wines, good music, nice dark décor, and a marvellous selection of nibbles that sit right under the bar, tempting. The chap who serves us is Welsh, and soon we’re all wined up, with a platter of cheese with bread. We plan our evening and enjoy a bottle. Dad’s found a restaurant run by an ex-Rugby player, who gets old players to be his staff. Sounds interesting. It’s a little way away, back past the Art Studio Café, north of the Vatican. We arrive there at about 7pm, but it’s not open till 8:30, so we make a reservation, and wander off to find a bar.

Bar is found just a few buildings down, run by friendly chaps again, good value, and with a bar full of free tapas. It’s amazing what you find in Italy away from the tourist rip-off zones. We have a litre of wine plus beers. Dad orders in French. We head back to the restaurant (Osteria Dell’Angelo) which is now busy, and are served in an amusing grumpy fashion by a waiter who we assume is a player, but turns out to be a wrestler!



Food is plentiful - Bread, pastas, soups, meatballs, and so much wine.





We get through beers and two litre carafes and they give us more. Oh dear!



We taxi to Piazza Mancini then take our 201 bus. I sneak another beer whilst we wait. Back in the hotel room I manage to pour a mocha all over this laptop and my front. Oh, and the curtain. And room telephone. Yes, it was that kind of night.

Far Far Away From Roma

Downstairs at the terminal, we buy a three day travel pass for 11 euros. I ask for the Roma Card, a discount card giving you three days travel and entry into touristy places, but the girl says they don’t do them anymore. This turns out to be untrue, but in the end I don’t think it would have saved us much anyway. On to Metro A, one of only two lines that Rome has, and take it to Valle Aurelia station, about 8 along.

I should mention at this point that I screwed with this booking. I went with the reviews, which said that this hotel was good. It is. However, I made the fatal mistake, unusually for me it has to be said, of not checking where the place was. It’s miles away. Seriously. As Lewis says, this is like going to London and staying in Strood. M25 territory. We change on to FM3 or FR3 (depending on who you believe), and head north-west out of Rome. City changes to countryside. Countryside changes to satellite town. Satellite town changes back to countryside. Oh dear!

At Valle Aurelia, we head up several escalators, but there’s nowhere to buy tickets. We don’t think our transport cards are valid for trains. I try sticking it in the validation machine just for good measure. I’m given the “stupid tourist” sympathy look by the people standing nearby. No progress. I head down the three flights of stairs to check again, but there really isn’t anywhere. Fine, the train arrives despite the boards and clocks being all messed up, we hop on the train, which is covered in covered in graffiti. Half an hour or so later, we’re at La Storta. Nowhere to buy tickets here either. Oh well.

It’s raining for the 600m walk to the hotel. We could take a bus. Of course, it’s becoming a bit of a joke by now. We find it though, it’s called Hotel Cassia and is on the Via Cassia, one of the old Roman roads running straight out of town. It’s nice, but the slightly mad old guy on reception had forgotten my reservation, despite remembering speaking to me. I have a coffee whilst he flicks through all the other reservations before agreeing that it’s no problem to accommodate us anyway. Good!

Dump bags, and finding the internet costs money, we head back out, into town. We’re hungry. Lewis and I have a couple of slices of pizza at the station, Dad and Pippi end up with rather dull cheese and tomato sandwiches at St. Peter’s Station, before we hit the first big gun – St. Peter’s, i.e. the Vatican.

The Vatican, St. Peter’s and the Sistine Chapel
The Vatican is the smallest country in the world, by population and area. Apparently about 800 people live in it. There are large old walls surrounding it, but no border as such. The square in front of St. Peter’s is enormous.





It’s also raining hard. Lewis and I have both been here before, but can’t remember the drill. The information desk soon puts us right.

So across the square, we don’t join the queue for the basilica, as the inside tip is that you go to the Vatican Museums first then cut straight across to the church (and up the dome). So through the enormous columns and round the high Vatican City walls. There’s almost no queue, unlike last time Lewis was here.



Still plenty of groups of school kids inside though. Lewis and Pippi get a student discount, and I think he was going to give it to me too. Through security, and in. LP says you can easily spend several days here, and it’s true.



We’ve pencilled in a couple of hours. We pass through several different galleries, including large numbers of statues,















one with maps of every region painted on the wall (Renaissance Google Earth!)





an Egyptian one, Etruscan,







lots of Raphael’s work, with whole rooms completed by him









and it gets busier and busier before finally we arrive at the Sistine Chapel.


Spooky

The Sistine Chapel is the room where the cardinals are locked in to choose the next pope. It’s famous for its ceiling, painted by Michelangelo, along with other works of his and others. Disappointingly photos are not allowed. The chapel is crammed with people, and it’s easy to see why – the ceiling is magnificent.





Lewis spots the famous God creating Adam bit.



We exit via the “organised tour groups only” exit, straight into St. Peters, where we pay 5 euros to climb without lift (7 with). Lewis and I have warned the other two that it’s a fair climb, quite high up, and not great if you’re claustrophobic, all of which seems to be an issue for the other two.

This is by most measurements the largest church in the world, with the biggest dome. The church itself holds 60,000 people, or far more when the square in front is packed with people for Papal addresses.



We climb up a gentle spiral first, around a lift shaft, before we meet the base of the dome on the inside. There’s a good view from here down the long drop into the main church. I don’t like looking down much here!

Then we ascend a tight spiral before effectively climbing up on top of the dome. This is the bit where the width closes in, and you are forced to lean on the side which you know is the dome with the big drop below. I don’t like this bit at all! There’s then a really tight corkscrew climb up to the top. Well actually there’s another level, but the staircase to this one is a joke, it must be about 12 inches wide, there’s no way I’d get up it, and anyway it’s not accessibly to the public.

From here, one has a wonderful view over all of Rome, with St. Peter’s Square below where crowds gather for the papal addresses, the Tiber river flowing through the city, the Coliseum, Pantheon, it’s all there to be picked out.



Unfortunately two of our group wouldn’t go anywhere near the edge, despite the strong railing around the outside. I must admit that I must have mellowed lots, as last time I remember being really panicky – Huey-mien was laughing at me, but this time I feel quite relaxed.



There are hooks on some of the pillars on the inside which Dad grips! The other side one can see various Vatican buildings in beautiful gardens.


Perhaps the pope’s residence? I don’t know.

Down to the level at the back of the façade, where the disciples gaze down at St. Peter’s Square.





We head down to see the church. It’s enormous inside.



We rub the foot of St. Peter. This clearly is the thing to do, and the poor chap’s foot has had to be replaced as it gets worn off over time.



There’s a service going on at the end, which I find a bit spooky – the synchronised way in which everyone suddenly stands up and chants.



Organised religions, they’re all a bit strange.