Sunday 25 May: Summer comes to Roma

We woke up today to discover that while we were in the north, summer had suddenly come to Roma. It was HOT! Even Romans had switched from parkas to light jackets (still worn over shirts and sweaters). Gary and I stayed in the area today, unpacking and sorting laundry. We went to Good for coffee and Internet, and began to catch up on email and such. We also started going through the hundreds of pics we had taken in Firenze, Siena, San Gimignano, and Venezia. I also spent a couple of hours on research. Gary made us a fantastic salad of mixed greens, roast turkey, and provolone cheese for dinner. We both read until late, then bed.

Saturday 24 May: A day along the lagoon, then back to Roma

Gary and I had breakfast at Ca’Riccio, and then caught a water bus to the Santa Lucia section of Venice. Seeing mixed fried shellfish on a caffè menu, I made Gary stop for a second breakfast! Please note in the Flickr pics that this was topped by a whole, deep-fried, spiny shelled lobster. We then hit the shops, where the glassmakers of Murano sell their wares. Every now and then I go into magpie mode: I see something shiny and I must have it. I have been collecting glass, and I sort of went overboard during my last morning in Venice. Gary did convince me to restrict myself to small pieces that could be easily packed, and the shops were very good about packing and wrapping items for me. I’ll wait to see if my finds make it back to the US before I post pics.

We stopped for lunch (two hours after my second breakfast) so I could have seafood in Venice one last time. An uneventful four hours on the Eurostar first-class high speed train brought us back to Rome just as it was getting dark, and just as Trastevere was coming alive. We bought some pizza and took home with us for dinner. Tired from traveling, we went to bed and actually slept.

Friday 23 May: Around the Republic of Venice

Gary and I had a good breakfast at our b&b and headed out to the Public Gardens at one end of Venice. The weather in the morning was clear and warm with a nice light breeze, and we walked through the groves and flower beds of the park. In the center is Caffè Paradiso, a beautiful caffè with excellent outdoor lounge furniture, an interior art gallery, fantastic coffee, and outstanding service. We enjoyed a couple of coffees there and then walked toward the heart of Venice, the Piazza San Marco. The sun was bright, so I bought a dashing gondolier’s hat, a straw boater featuring a bright blue ribbon with VENEZIA printed on it. Gary and I stopped at a pizzeria for lunch, where he had a good pizza with sausage, and I had pizza frutti di mare, complete with squid, mussels, and a whole baby octopus! Chomping the octopus whole made a good photo-op, which you can see on Flickr.

The common picture of Europe in the Middle Ages is a land of kings, knights, and castles. However, for centuries, the wealthiest and most powerful nation in Europe wasn’t a kingdom; it was the Republic of Venice. An independent trading empire for over a thousand years, the Republic was ruled by powerful noble families whose wealth was based on trade and shipping, and who elected a leader for life, called the Doge. Every year, with great pomp and ceremony, the Doge would cast a gold ring into the Adriatic to represent Venice’s marriage to the sea. The upper classes of Venice were famous throughout Europe and the Mediterranean world as leaders of fashion, benefactors of art and literature, and patrons of music. The Republic of Venice lasted until 1797, when it surrendered to Napoleon Bonaparte and the army of the French Republic (soon to be French Empire). Napoleon had plans of setting up a capitol in Venice, but never got around to it (he was sort of busy conquering the rest of Europe, fighting Britain and Russia, and eventually being deposed). The heart of the old Venetian Republic, as well as of modern Venice, is Piazza San Marco. Right on the lagoon, this huge paved piazza housed the Palace of the Doge, a gorgeous Gothic fantasy of inlaid brickwork, marble columns, and ornate windows. On the other side of the piazza is the gigantic Basilica of San Marco, home to the relics of Saint Mark the Evangelist. This huge, opulent church is in the Byzantine style, covered inside and out with mosaics, with altars, side chapels, and artwork in the Gothic, Renaissance, baroque, and later styles. The floor is wavy and uneven because it is so old, and it is supported by literally millions of pine tree trunks driven as piles through the water a thousand years ago into the clay at the bottom of the lagoon. The basilica is a dazzling confusion of artwork that you have to see to appreciate. In the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, the plum musician’s job in all of Europe was that of music director at the Basilica San Marco, a post held by Gabriel Gabrieli and Claudio Monteverdi.

Gary and I had a guided tour of the key sights in Venice scheduled for the afternoon. It was now starting to drizzle a little, and since I had unfortunately left my dashing gondolier’s hat at the pizzeria, Gary bought me a fetching blue parasol printed with American blue jeans pockets, which I could use to keep off either rain or sunshine. Our tour took us around the Piazza and the Doge’s Palace, through the basilica, and to some of the key points in the city, including the elegant little marble church of Santa Maria dei Miracoli, the great church of San Giovanni e Paolo where many Doges are buried, and the house of Marco Polo, the thirteenth-century Venetian trader and explorer who crossed Asia to China and lived for years at the court of Kublai Khan. We also saw the great opera house La Fenice, “The Phoenix,” named that because it burnt down in the nineteenth century and was rebuilt on its original site. Unfortunately, it burnt down again in 1996, and only the façade remains. Concerts are held all over the city to raise funds for its restoration. Out tour ended at Rialto, home to the famous bridge as well as the main produce and seafood markets of the city.

After our walking tour we had a break for a couple of hours, so we got out of the rain for a caffè corretto at Gran Caffe Chioggia, one of the world’s most prestigious coffee houses right on Piazza San Marco. It had better be prestigious; coffee with a shot of brandy for two was almost thirty dollars! Luckily the rain was clearing up, the sun came out, and the clouds rolled away. The timing was perfect, because Gary and I had scheduled a late afternoon cruise around the Venetian lagoon and down the entire length of the Grand Canal. Out boat was an elegant private craft with enclosed cabin and small open decks on the front and back. Six of us, the captain, and the tour guide got aboard for a “three-hour cruise” minus Gilligan. The weather was perfect. The sun reflected off the water and cast light on the amazing churches, palaces, and other buildings on the water’s edge. Byzantine, Romanesque, Gothic, Renaissance, baroque, and rococo buildings vied for our attention in a glittering array of prismatic marble, colored mosaics, and inlaid stone and brick work. Palaces and basilicas fronted the canal, their main steps leading directly to the water. Gary and I took lots of pics; they’re on Flickr at www.flickr.com/danielcmack. As we cruised, we had glasses of Prosecco, the tasty sparkling wine of the Veneto. Words can’t describe the incredible and bizarre beauty of Venice as seen from the water: historic buildings, rich and exotic materials, flowers and gardens, all combined in a riot of color along the ever-present and ever-changing water.

After our cruise we had dinner on the edge of the lagoon. Gary had one of his favorites, spaghetti alla carbonara, and I had what I had been waiting for: risotto frutti di mare, rice with mixed shellfish. It was incredibly good, and we were amused by the antics of the diners at the next table. They were being attacked by small sparrows looking for crumbs. The woman obviously had a phobia about birds, and was flailing her arms and shrieking like Tippi Hendren in The Birds. Sparrows might be annoying, but I’ve never found them that terrifying myself. We ended the long day with gelato before bed.

Thursday 22 May: Gary and Dan go to Venice

After breakfast Gary and I caught a cab to the train station to get the Eurostar to Venice. The only waiting room in station was above Mickey D’s, where we watched in amusement as health inspectors and tourists alike stumbled across a women’s room flooded with sewage. We were glad to board out comfortable first-class coach! The trip north passed through Bologna and Padova. As we left the hills of Tuscany the landscape became flatter. We approached the Veneto and began to smell the sea air. The train passed through Mestre, the huge city on the mainland where most people actually live, now that real estate in Venice proper is unaffordable to most people. Finally we got out at Santa Lucia station on the edge of the mainland and the lagoon.

Venice is incredibly beautiful and truly strange. You always hear about the canals and the water, but the reality of seeing it is amazing. I thought that it would be a city with some water ways crossing it, much like Copenhagen or Amsterdam. Venice, however, is completely and far out into the lagoon on the Adriatic Sea, and the water is everywhere. Buildings, or groups of buildings, are islands, and over a hundred canals run between them, connected by hundreds of bridges. There are short streets on some of the islands, but these are not even the size of alleys. They are just hallways, and two people can barely pass each other. There is no traffic: no cars, no Vespas, not even bicycles. All goods are delivered and taken away by hand trucks, and this includes trash. Streets only run a short way, and then encounter a canal. At the canals, the streets either end or they go over a bridge to the next island. The canals are the true streets, and home of the Venetian traffic.

To get to our hotel, Gary and I boarded a water bus. These are called vaporetti, “little steamers,” although now they run mostly on diesel. The buses, taxis, police cars, ambulances, and all other transportation are boats. We got on a bus that headed out to Murano, the island of glassmakers in the lagoon. Gary realized that we were on the wrong bus! (I would have stayed on it until I ended up at the airport). Gary figured out the right stop to switch to another line that went directly to our street. Right across from the water bus stop at our landing point was another beautiful island with walls of terra cotta, covered in cypresses. We learned that this was San Michele, the cemetery island, where Venetians have been buried for the past couple of hundred years, along with such eminent foreigners as Ezra Pound and Igor Stravinsky.

Gary and I departed the bus and walked along the narrow corridor between buildings that was the “street.” Like Rome, in Venice there are gardens, flower boxes, and plants everywhere. We soon came to our bed and breakfast Ca’Riccio, on the fifth floor of a building. Our room was beautiful, with ceramic tile in the bed and bathrooms, crystal chandeliers, and no working wireless.

After we unpacked we headed out to explore the city. At the foot of the Rialto Bridge we stopped for a late lunch. Gary had tagliatelli bolognese, and I had spaghetti frutti di mare, with all sorts of seafood in it. We then boarded a water bus that went in a loop around the entire main part of Venice in about an hour and a half, and rode the whole circuit to see the sights of the city. We stopped at a pizzeria near our room for dinner, where a little dog kept walking in and begging for food (you see this in bars, caffès, and restaurants all over Italy). We returned to our b&b for a good night’s sleep.

Wednesday 21 May: A day in Tuscany

Gary and I got up early today, had a good breakfast in our b&b (rolls, coffee, and excellent jam), and walked to the train station to meet our tour bus for the day’s outing in Tuscany. The weather was warm but not hot, and the sun was bright between clouds. Our bus was a double-decker, so we rode in the top. We were headed for Siena, an old Tuscan town and medieval rival of Florence, about an hour and fifteen minutes away. The drive was beautiful, with olive groves, vineyards, and fields of grain and poppies. Centuries-old villas, farms, and churches overlooked orchards and fields that had been cultivated for thousands of years. We arrived in Siena and met out tour guide Adele, and native of the city whose family had lived there for a thousand years. Siena was an important and rich independent republic in the Middle Ages and Renaissance, until it was conquered in 1555 by the Medici and eventually incorporated into the Grand Duchy of Tuscany.
Siena is a beautiful medieval city, full of well-preserved churches, palaces, and civic buildings. For centuries it has been divided into seventeen regions called contrade, each with its own flag, church, fountain, and social hall. Membership in these is hereditary, and children receive a parchment at birth certifying membership. Throughout the city are colorful street lamps shaped like cornucopia. We also saw the original home office of the Monte dei Paschi bank, the oldest operating bank in the world. This fifteenth century building is still a working bank! In the middle of town is the main square, the shell-shaped Piazza del Campo, with the beautiful medieval town hall and campanile, one of the highest in Italy. This square is the location of the Palio, a horse race held twice each summer for the last eight hundred years. Horses and riders representing Siena’s various contrade race around the square, and the winner is awarded a banner. The entire affair is celebrated with a huge festival featuring medieval costumes, parades, and music, and draws visitors from around the world.
From Campo we walked to the gorgeous Duomo, the cathedral of Siena. This beautiful Gothic church, decorated in red and green marble, is an incredible sight. The façade is very ornate, and the interior lavishly decorated. The floors feature excellent marble inlays of religious scenes and allegorical figures. To preserve them they are mostly kept covered except for a few weeks each year. Also, a few are left visible and are roped off. One of the side altars in the cathedral features four small statues by Michelangelo.
Gary and I stopped for lunch at a pizzeria on the Campo, where we had some of the best pizza I have ever had in my life, and I’ve eaten pizza all over Italy and the USA for decades! During lunch a huge storm of wind and rain came out of nowhere. We walked a short distance in the rain to meet up with our bus, and struck up a conversation with a mother and daughter from Perth, Australia, who were touring Italy. The man escorting our group back to our bus was going way too fast for most of us, including me and the Australians, and Gary ran up to him and told him he had to slow down. Back at the bus, the driver told me that it was too dangerous for me to use the bus’ restroom while we were parked, and I had to wait until we got to the highway. As soon as his back was turned I picked the restroom lock with my apartment’s ginormous skeleton key.
Next was an hour’s drive to the old medieval town of San Gimignano. This drive was even more stunning than our earlier trip. The storm had passed, and shafts of dazzling sunlight alternated with the shadow of clouds rushing across the rolling Tuscan hills. It seemed like every ridge and cliff was topped by a villa, monastery or abandoned tower, while houses and farms the color of terra cotta stood among orchards of silvery-gray olive trees and fields of sangiovese grapes destined to become Chianti wine. You always hear about the beauty of the Tuscan countryside, but descriptions can’t come close to describing it. I shot several pictures of our approach to San Gimignano, the city of towers. This ancient town once had 76 tall towers, from which individual noble families defended their part of the city. When one family was conquered by another, its tower was knocked down. Fourteen remain, along with well-preserved streets, houses, churches, and shops of Tuscan stone. The city is on a tall hill, and the streets are all very steep. Luckily for me, a couple of months in Rome have gotten me used to hills, but it was still a workout (for me; as usual, Gary trotted around like a mountain goat). The town is now filled with shops selling local wines, food specialties, and crafts, especially the painted ceramics of Tuscany.
Another late afternoon drive through the Tuscan countryside brought us back to Florence. For our last night, we decided to dine on one of the city’s favorite foods: steak grilled on oak fire. I washed mine down with a very nice local Chianti classico; Gary, who doesn’t care for red wine, had an excellent pinot grigio. That evening we hung out with the college kids again, with whom I traded some recipes. Before bed we packed for the next day’s trip, which would take us to Venice.
If you ever have a chance to go to Florence, Siena, San Gimignano, or anyplace else in Tuscany, do it! The food is excellent, the wine superb, and the art you see everywhere is matched in beauty only by the fantastic scenery. We have lots of pictures on Flickr at www.flickr.com/danielcmack. Take a look!

Tuesday 20 May: Dan and Gary visit David and Venus

Today it rained on and off; a good day for visiting museums to see the art for which Florence is famous. We had timed admission tours for two of the great museums of Western art: the Galleria dell’Accademia, home to Michelangelo’s David, and the Uffizi Museum, with the world’s largest collection of Florentine art. Good thing I booked our entrance online months ago; there were folks standing in the rain for four hours waiting to get into both galleries!

The Accademia in Florence was founded in the 18^th century as the world’s first professional school for training artists in drawing, painting and sculpture; before then, budding artists trained as apprentices under master artists. The Galleria of the Accademia is a small but excellent collection of mostly Florentine paintings, tracing its development through the Byzantine, Gothic, early and high Renaissance, Mannerist, and Baroque styles. The works in the gallery served as models for the students. The high point of the Accademia, however, is the hall of sculptures by Michelangelo, culminating in his famous David. You first pass several of the master’s “unfinished” sculptures. These are works that are partially carved from blocks of marble, which Michelangelo considered to be complete even though they appear to be only half finished. It’s really interesting to see how he could create a figure out of a hunk of rock. Michelangelo used to say that he did not create an image from a block of stone. Rather, the figure was already there, trapped in the marble, and all he did was carve away the excess stone to free the statue from its rocky prison. Finally, you come to the renowned David, which he sculpted when he was only in his twenties, and which immediately made him the most famous and well-paid artist in Europe. Everyone is familiar with the image of the nude David poised in thought before pulling out his slingshot to whack Goliath. Although we’ve seen pictures and copies of the work all our lives, including the full-size replica in the piazza downtown, it is still amazing to see the original in person. To think that one person, with only chisel and hammer, could take a big piece of stone and create the textures and tensions you see in the statue is amazing.

Gary and I had a break for lunch between tours, so we headed across Ponte Vecchio for pasta. We stopped at a little place where two workers were beckoning passers-by with very amusing gestures. The man would extend both arms in dramatic arcs, one raised to point to the sign showing the day’s pasta special, and the other spectacularly held out in a gesture of welcome. He looked like he was striking a pose from grand opera. The woman was standing next to a menu sign, making Vanna White-like gestures towards it with both hands, muttering what appeared to be a welcome under her breath, although she was about thirty feet away from the people she was trying to entice into the restaurant. You will probably see both of us imitating these poses in Flickr pictures for the next several months!

After lunch we toured the Uffizi gallery. We quickly ditched our tour guide, who went into way too much detail (“now look at the folds of the gown on the second angel from the left in the back row behind the Madonna”); at her speed, we would be in the museum until August, and miss the masterworks we wanted to see. The Uffizi is an amazing place, filled with famous Florentine, Italian, and other European works arranged chronologically, tracing the development of Western painting. Giotto, Piero della Francesca, Michelangelo, Titian, and Raphael are all represented in abundance. We spent hours viewing the paintings, the high point of which for me was seeing Sandro Botticelli’s Birth of Venus, always one of my favorite works. I love going to museums and finally seeing in person the masterpieces that I have always read about and studied.

That evening Gary bought panini to take home to our b&b for dinner. A group of students from a university in the Pacific Northwest was staying there as well, and we hung out with them for a while before calling it a day. The students amused us with tales of collegiate antics from their home institution, and we responded in kind. We then headed to bed, since we were getting up early the next day for a trip around the Tuscan countryside.

Monday 19 May: Riding the sharp end to the Renaissance; or, Gary and Dan go to Florence

This morning we got up early, caught a cab to Termini Station, and waited for our train. Gary and I were on our way to Florence. We were riding the high-speed Eurostar in a first class coach, what Martin Amis calls “taking the sharp end.” The seats were comfortable, and at 150 miles per hour, you don’t even feel the train move. The college kid next to me spent the trip trying to convince us to vote for Ron Paul in the November election. He didn’t catch it when I repeatedly referred to his candidate as “Rue Paul.” As we rode north through Tuscany, we watched the countryside roll by: groves of olive, vineyards of grapes, and field after field of poppies and wild rosemary.

In less than two hours Gary and I were in Firenze, birthplace of the Renaissance. From the late thirteenth through the sixteenth century, Florence was a major center of world culture. Writers like Dante, Petrarch, Boccaccio and artists such as Giotto, Botticelli, and Raphael developed and defined a new era of scholarship and the arts. We were eager to begin exploring the city, so we caught a cab to our b&b. Our driver was boldly aggressive and quite verbal, frequently shouting at pedestrians and other drivers who thwarted his path. To my delight, he employed some of my favorite Italian obscenities, including v@ff@nc~l*, c@zz*, and f!g@. Glenn would have really appreciated it. We soon reached out destination, a pleasant and clean b&b with a comfortable but tiny room and unreliable wireless. After getting settled, Gary and I headed to the center of town to see some of the great masterpieces of the Florentine Renaissance.

In the middle of town is the magnificent Duomo of Florence, Santa Maria del Fiore, the cathedral of Our Lady of the Flowers. Begun in the thirteenth century by Arnolfo di Cambio, the church is best known for its great dome built by Filippo Brunelleschi in the fifteenth century, and the Gates of Paradise, the golden doors to the Baptistery sculpted by Lorenzo Ghiberti in the early 1400’s. The façade of the church is striped in green, pink, and white marble, which sounds sort of like a 1950’s bathroom, but to see it, it’s a great visual effect. The day was overcast with occasional light drizzles, and the marble glowed in the muted light. Gary and I visited the church and the lower crypt, which houses medieval tombs and archaeological artifacts.

Still in church mode, we walked a few blocks to San Lorenzo, the church of the Medici family, which houses some of their tombs. In the Middle Ages and early Renaissance, Florence was a republic, and the Medici was one of its leading families. They made their money in banking and trade, and were patrons of scholarship and the arts. Over the centuries some members of the Medici family became pope, and others married into the royal families of Europe. Eventually tiring of electoral politics in Florence, in the sixteenth century the Medici ended the Republic and established a monarchy, with themselves as the Grand Dukes of Tuscany.

Leaving San Lorenzo, we stopped at a Greek restaurant for lunch. There have been Greeks in Florence since the Renaissance, when Greek-speaking scholars from the eastern Mediterranean fled the Turks and came to Italy, where they contributed to the revival of classical learning that formed the basis for the Italian Renaissance. Our food was fantastic-Gary had chicken souvlaki, and I had mixed grilled meats and vegetables. During our meal, a huge storm hit Florence with first a torrential downpour of rain, and then hail the size of grapes. We were eating outside but under a cover, and were able to watch the storm to great advantage. When the rain let up we headed to our b&b for a short siesta, and then back to town to see more sights.

Not far from the Duomo in central Florence is the Piazza and Palazzo della Signoria. The Signoria was the main governing body of the Republic of Florence, and in its piazza stood the original David by Michelangelo. The original was moved indoors in the 19^th century, and a reproduction stands in its place. One side of the piazza houses a loggia covered with ancient and Renaissance sculptures by some of the great artists of the day. Even if you’re not an art fan, you might recognize the piazza from the movie Hannibal; it’s where Lector commits an extremely original and visually stunning homicide. From there Gary and I walked to the Ponte Vecchio, an old medieval bridge covered entirely with shops. For centuries the bridge has been home to stores specializing in luxury goods, and now sells mostly very expensive jewelry and watches. We admired a diamond and emerald crocodile pin with a 10,000.00 euro price tag.

In a light rain we stopped at a caffè for dinner, gnocchi al ragu for Gary and tortellini primavera for me. From there, we strolled back to our b&b, checked email with our bad wireless connection, discovered that it was too slow to upload pictures, and then called it a day.

Pics on Flickr at http://www.flickr.com/photos/danielcmack/sets/72157605244288213/ in the set "Dan and Gary go to Florence." Take a look!

Sunday 18 May: Gary and I go to ancient Rome

Gary and I spent this morning getting ready for our upcoming trip to the north of Italy. Once we were all packed and ready to go, we decided to head out to the main sites of ancient Rome. You know that I can never get enough of them, and Gary loves the heart of Rome too, so we crossed the river at Tiber Island, walked through the Portico of Octavia and past the Temple of Apollo and the Theater of Marcellus, then went around the Capitoline Hill and walked along Trajan’s Markets, the Imperial Fora, and the Forum Romanum. On Sundays the street is closed to traffic, and street performers, musicians, and vendors of every type covered the way.

Continuing along past the Forum, Gary and I then aimed for the Colosseum and the Arch of Constantine. The huge bulk of the Colosseum glowed orange in the late afternoon sun; it was a great visual effect that we tried to capture on camera. We were hungry by now, so we went past the amphitheater and down a side street a few blocks to get away from the high-priced, tourist-oriented restaurants near the ancient center. We found a nice pizzeria on a side street and ordered a liter of the house white wine. Gary had lasagna and I had roast sausages with potatoes (quite tasty!). It was getting dark, and we had a long evening walk back to the Tiber along the Circus Maximus at dusk. The circus was the site of the chariot races, and in its heyday it was the largest public venue ever constructed, with seating for 350,000 people. That’s over a third of a million, or better than three Beaver Stadiums at maximum capacity! Several writers recorded that you could hear the roar of the crowd for miles outside of town. The emperor had a private box connected directly to the Imperial Palace so he and his retinue wouldn’t have to go outside. Not much remains of the Circus Maximus except a long, grassy valley between the Palatine and Aventine hills, but you can see how huge the area is. When pilgrims descended on Rome for the funeral of Pope John Paul II and election of Benedict XVI, over fifty thousand people camped here. Although it was dark, a few clouds on the horizon caught the last purple and crimson of the sun, and Gary and I each got a couple of good photos of the sunset on the circus. Crossing the river to Trastevere, we stopped in Piazza di Santa Maria in Trastevere (our piazza!) for a drink before bed. Tomorrow we leave for Florence!

Saturday 17 May: Laundry and lemon

Not a whole lot going on today. Gary and I did laundry in preparation for our upcoming trip north. Near the laundry we found the cheapest caffè/bar in all Roma! This gave us a place to go while clothes washed. For the drying cycle we went to a nearby gelateria and had ice cream until clothes were done.

The great high point of the day, though, was when Gary found his new best friend. As I was uploading photos at Good, he went to the fruit stand next door and bought the world’s biggest lemon! Gary is now lemon-obsessed, and we have been taking pics with it all over the place. It will be traveling with us in the near future, so keep an eye on Flickr for it!

For dinner we headed over to Cave Canem (Beware of the Dog in Latin), famous for its stuffed potatoes and its pizza. Gary had pizza with potatoes and sausage, and I had a potato stuffed with sausage and gorgonzola. It was amazing! Early bed in the din of Trastevere.

A note on posts while I travel

Hi everyone! Gary and I are on the road for a while, visiting Florence, Siena, and Venice. While we travel we have only sporadic internet access, so email, blogging, and Flickr might be slow. Don't worry though; I'll keep updating when able! -Dan

Friday 16 May: A new saint and a new restaurant

Good opened an hour late this morning because the worker opening it had been out partying the night before and was hung over. Gary and I walked through the ‘hood as we waited, admiring the new anti-fascist graffiti stenciled on several walls. Flickr has a pic-a little girl tossing a swastika in a garbage can. Very cool! We took a peek inside Santa Maria in Trastevere while we waited. Good finally opened, we had coffee and got online to upload pics and check our mail.

In the afternoon we decided to check out a local church was had not yet seen, Santa Cecilia in Trastevere. As the story goes, the ancient Romans tried to execute Cecilia by steaming her to death in her own sauna (there is a Roman house with a bath complex under the church). When this didn’t work, they cut off her head but did such a bad job that she lived for three days. Thirteen centuries later, in 1599, workers were renovating her church and discovered her body completely uncorrupted, in its original robes and position. The architect and sculptor Maderno was present, and made a life-size statue of her body as he saw it. It’s lying in a black marble niche in front of the altar, and we wanted to see it. Cecilia is also the patron saint of music, and there are pictures of her playing harp and organ all over the church.

That evening Gary and I decided to have a traditional Roman dinner, so we went to Lagane e Ceci right around the corner. Our waiter Alessandro was very accommodating, and brought us a huge sampler of Roman favorites for antipasti. The grilled and marinated vegetables were great, but I especially liked the trippa alla romana (tripe with tomato and celery—Google it if you don’t know what tripe is!). Gary particularly enjoyed one dish until he discovered that it was veal brains! The lamb liver was also fantastic. Gary had bucatini all’amatriciana, hollow tubes of pasta in a spicy sauce with bacon, and I had giant rigatoni in a ragu of lamb and pork. After dinner we were so stuffed that we just headed home to bed.

Thursday 15 May: We go to town twice

Gary and I got up this morning and walked across Ponte Sisto into the Centro Storico. Since we walked right past the church of San Andrea della Valle, and since I am a fan of the architect Maderno, we went in for a minute to admire the big dome, second tallest in the city after St. Peter’s, and the amazing frescos on the ceiling. Then we stopped at Caffè Sant’Eustachio for coffee and chocolate cornetti. Caffè Sant’Eustachio has perhaps the best coffee in the entire world, literally! We then strolled to the Pantheon and walked inside. Gary loves the Pantheon as much as I do, and we are both amazed every time we go in. The recent restorations show the yellow, green, and maroon marble columns and paneling to advantage, and the huge dome, the biggest in the world until the 1960’s, never fails to impress. The painter Raphael is buried here, and there were fresh violets on his tomb.

We then headed over to Piazza Navona, another favorite place of ours. The square was mostly full of artists of all types: caricaturists, folks doing sketches of Roman scenes, watercolors, and pastel drawings. Since we were right there, we went into the church of San’Agnese in Agone, designed by Boromini, Bernini’s great rival. The church is not huge, but is extremely lavish with colored marble, gilt bronze, paintings, and sculpture. We headed home, and I actually grilled panini in the closet kitchen for lunch!

In the afternoon we caught bus 23 to Piramide station, got on Metro line B to Termini, the main station in town, switched to Metro line A, and got off at Piazza de Spaga to see the Spanish Steps. We took the elevator to the top of the steps (yes, there is one; it’s sort of hidden in the Metro stop) and walked down them. This was the first time I had ever seen the Spanish Steps without flowers. Instead, they were completely covered with people: tourists, local Roman sunning themselves, and the inevitable teenage couples making out. There are great views of Rome from the top of the steps, and we have some on Flickr.

From Spagna we headed toward the Trevi Fountain. The district we walked through is the central business and financial part of town, and home to Fendi, Versace, Armani, and other Italian designers, as well as luxury shops for jewelry, clothing, art, and specialty food items. Gary took a photo of a shop called “Expensive!” Arriving at the Trevi Fountain, we just sat and people watched for a while. The place was not as crowded as it sometimes is, so we were able to get nice seats near the front. We each threw coins in (the third time this trip for me!), thus guaranteeing our return to the Eternal City.

For dinner, we stopped in Piazza Navona again at Tucci, one of our favorite restaurants. Gary had spaghetti al ragu and I had gnocchi with an amazing gorgonzola sauce. Our friend Sandy had given Gary money for us to have a bottle of wine in Roma. We bought a bottle of Frascati, the white wine from the Alban Hills outside of town, and we drank a toast to Sandy. There are pics on Flickr! Exhausted from a day of walking all over the city, we headed home and went to bed early.

Wednesday 14 May: Augustus and angels

Gary and I got up and got ready, had breakfast at home, and I made sandwiches for a picnic. Then we headed across the river into town for Gary’s first full day in Rome. He wanted to see the Ara Pacis, and I am always prepared to go back there to overdose on Augustan iconography, so we caught bus 23 to the Piramide stop, took Metro B to Termini Station, switched to Metro A, got off at Flaminio, and strolled through Piazza del Popolo. We then walked down to the Ara Pacis. On the way we stopped and ate our picnic lunch in a little piazza just north of the Ara Pacis. Gary loved the new museum, which had been still under construction the last time we were in Rome. We are wondering was will happen to it. Rome just elected a new mayor in April, and he hates it (the museum, not the Ara Pacis itself). He had said that if he was elected he would tear it down. We’ll have to see if he carries out his threat! Besides the altar, the museum has exhibition space for temporary exhibits. The current one is an interesting, multi-room work with installations by Mimmo Paladino and ambient music by Brian Eno.

Gary then thought we should take a look in St. Peter’s. You know that I am always ready for Bernini, so I agreed and we walked across the river to the Vatican. Well; the line just for security at the basilica was about three hours long, so we decided to go in another time. The were setting up a big sound stage and thousands of seats in Piazza San Pietro, so they must be preparing for some big Pope event. Gary had a good idea: why don’t we go someplace we hadn’t been to before, Castel Sant’Angelo? We had been past it many times, but never inside. There was almost no line, so we got our tickets and headed in. Only after we got inside did I realize that there is no public elevator, and you have to walk all the way up to the top to get to the museum inside, usually up steep, uneven, and poorly-lit ramps. I got my exercise for the day! Castel Sant’Angelo is definitely worth going to, though. It was originally built as the tomb of the Roman emperor Hadrian, and was one of the great monuments of ancient Rome. After the fall of the Empire, it was robbed of its marble, but the concrete and brick core of the structure remained, and it was renovated as a fortress. Several Popes have taken refuge there during wars and civil strife. Inside are dungeons, beautifully frescoed apartments, and collections of art and of weaponry. There’s a nice caffè at the top with spectacular views of the city. We also got some more angel pics to add to the set for Sandy on Flickr.

It was getting toward dinner time, so we caught a bus back to Trastevere, cleaned up for dinner, and headed toward one of my favorite restaurants just around the corner for dinner, the home of the ginormous t-bone steaks. The staff are buddies of mine, and every time I walk past the place (which is daily, since I live about thirty seconds away) they ask me when I would be in for another steak. Well, how often can you actually eat a two-and-a-half pound steak? This was a special occasion, though: Gary’s first full day in Rome. He wisely had a filet (still pretty big), and we had salad and antipasto, and of course I had a bloody t-bone. We even had dessert: I ordered some chocolate thing that was really good, and Gary had a strawberry torte with tiny, fresh alpine berries. Pics of the day’s adventures (and food) are on Flickr.

Tuesday 13 May: Gary arrives in Roma!

I never did sleep much; the club outside my window was playing bad disco until 3 am. I got up at 6, got ready, and was out the door by 7. I walked through the drizzle to Viale de Trastevere, caught the trolley to Stazione Trastevere, and then the train to Fiumicino. I’m getting familiar with this trip! Gary’s flight, due in at 10 am, was listed as “on time.” It was really an hour late, but I didn’t know that until after it landed. I waited at the New Arrivals gate, and finally at about quarter after 11, there was Gary! He had a good flight, had been able to sleep some, and his luggage was there, so we immediately left the airport to find a city cab into town. By law, the flat rate for official cabs from Fiumicino to the city is 40 euro. Of course, to get to the cab stand you have to run the gauntlet of limos, shuttles, and private cabs, all of whom pose as official municipal taxis, but charge twice as much. We finally got into a taxi and headed through lunch rush hour traffic toward Rome. Of all the cabbies in the city, we had to get the one who didn’t know his way around Trastevere. He stopped and asked directions twice and finally let us out about three blocks from my apartment because he couldn’t get through the street. We didn’t care, we were just happy that Gary was in Rome.

We got Gary’s stuff inside and unpacked, Gary cleaned up and changed, then we went for a short walk around the neighborhood. We got pizza to go at the bakery across the street (some plain tomato, some with thinly-sliced potato and cheese, and some pizza stuffed with mortadella and buffalo-milk mozzarella) and took up to the room for a snack. It was now official siesta time, so we had a short nap.

It was still raining on and off that evening, so we stayed in the ‘hood, looking in shops and eateries at the merchandise and food. For dinner we went to a really good place near Santa Maria della Scala, the same place I had the rigatoni with oxtail. Gary and I ordered antipasto, salad (with mozzarella and walnuts-tasty!), wine, and our traditional first-day-in-Rome dinner: spaghetti alla carbonara, with eggs, cheese, and pancetta. Pics on Flickr! Dinner was great, we were beat, and the rain kept the partiers mostly inside. That night was the best sleep I’ve had in months.

Monday 12 May: Gray day, but Gary’s on his way!

A short post today. Rain on and off all day, so it was a good day to finish cleaning. Gary had tight connections in Cincinnati and in New York. As he would make a flight, he’d send me a quick text message so I knew he was on the next leg of his trip. The plane out of Cincinnati was nearly an hour late, and his connection at JFK was very brief. Finally, at nearly 1 am my time, I got a text that he was on his plane for Rome! I tried to sleep for a few hours, since I was getting up early to catch a train to meet Gary at the airport.

Sunday 11 May: Life is too short for...

Happy Mother’s Day! Did you call your Mom?

A busy but uneventful day as I get ready for Gary to arrive Tuesday (hooray! It’s been six weeks!). While cleaning and such, I got to thinking about things I’ve learned just from living in Rome the past while. There are more than ten things that Rome has taught me, and you can learn these in other places as well. They may not work for everyone, and of course there are other important things in life too. Still, here are the ten things I thought of today that Rome has taught me that life is too short for:

1. Life is too short to drink bad coffee.
2. Life is too short not to have plants and flowers everywhere.
3. Life is too short not to stop for a drink with friends.
4. Life is too short to forget what you did and saw today.
5. Life is too short to ignore the history all around us everywhere.
6. Life is too short not to listen to live music.
7. Life is too short not to have wine with dinner, at least sometimes.
8. Life is too short not to stop to see the art.
9. Life is too short to worry about what others might think.
10. Life is too short not to keep in touch with friends.

Saturday 10 May: Archaeology, absinthe, and glass

I did some more work at the Theater of Marcellus and Temple of Apollo today, looking for specific iconographic motifs that might be visible on the exposed ruins. They’re still working on parts of the Portico of Octavia, which was a huge complex. There could be some promising stuff waiting to be found there. I hope so; it will be another excuse to come back to Rome!

On the way back, I stopped at a caffè in Trastevere and struck up a conversation with two American college lads. John Cabot University is in Trastevere, right around the corner, and students come here and study for a semester, a year, however long they can convince their parents to fund them. These guys were bewailing their terrible absinthe hangovers. There is no drinking age in Italy, at least none that I have ever seen enforced, and it is not unusual to see teenagers (and younger), usually American, taking advantage of this. Also, absinthe has made a big comeback in Europe. Most EU countries lifted their bans on it in the ‘90’s. Now, there are a lot of myths and half-truths about absinthe. First, it has never been illegal to possess or drink it in the USA; only illegal to sell it (this is no longer true). Second, the hallucinogenic and narcotic effects of its primary component, artemisia absynthum or wormwood, have been greatly exaggerated. The real reason people become so ill from absinthe is the alcohol content: usually at least sixty percent, and sometimes as high as eighty. That’s 160 proof, worse than 151 rum. Of course you will become ill if you do several shots of it, and these two young scholars apparently drank a bottle each. They asked me for a hangover remedy; I recommended caffè corretto, with a shot of grappa. In their condition, I figured it couldn’t hurt.

Out for a walk around the ‘hood in the afternoon, I came across W&T Arte, a great little store selling handmade glass. It features lamps, light fixtures, jewelry, and other items made of blown glass and glass beads. The stuff is absolutely beautiful, and there are several lighting fixtures with glass beadwork in teal, turquoise, and sea greens and blues. One of these would look fantastic in our living room. I think I have discovered the perfect souvenir! Take a look at the shops website at http://wtarte.tripod.com/.

Friday 9 May: Haircut, riot, and movie

Today was a lot of fun! I hit the Academy early to check some citations. This was the day for the Libraries Awards ceremony. Since Gary and I were the two who nominated Susan for the University Libraries Award, I gave her a quick call to congratulate her (Hooray Susan! You rule! Congrats also to Wendy and Karen for the Margaret Knoll Spangler Oliver Libraries Award!).

Looking in the mirror, I saw that I was getting a little shaggy. With the rapid approach of Roman summer, I decided it was time to get a haircut. There were several options, including beauty salons very nearby. I decided to go to the old barbershop instead. First, they charge 6 euro instead of 20. Second, they have stacks of Italian comic books to read while you wait. Third, it’s a fun place with three barbers, the youngest about 60. I think the oldest must have cut Mussolini’s hair. Of course, he was the one I wanted, and got. He asked me what I wanted, and I told him corto sul posteriore, corto dai lati, un po’ meno corto sul capo (short on the back, short on the sides, a little less short on the top). The old guy suddenly exploded into a buzz of scissors and comb, his hands flying all around my noggin. He never got out the electric clippers, but in five minutes I had the best haircut I’ve had since my fluorescent mohawk days in Youngtown in the early 80’s. I’ll get Gary to take a pic when he gets here.

I decided to go for a walk around Trastevere because it was so nice out, and because every time I go, I discover a new shop or caffè or shop. Turning a corner, I was suddenly confronted by a huge crowd of people watching a priest in full robes beat a bloody woman to the ground with an enormous club! I was sort of taken aback, but then saw the cameras and lights on the other side of the street. Someone was shooting a flick in my neighborhood! It was too cool, so I hung around for a while. Next came a bunch of rioters, young folks dressed like college students and hippies. They were running from police in riot gear carrying large automatic weapons, including grenade launchers. I talked to a group of actors, students who were obviously enjoying themselves immensely. They were all filthy in torn clothes, and wielded a nice collection of foam rocks, cobblestones, sticks, and clubs for fighting the police. I asked them how much the stuff hurt if you got hit with it. They responded by first pelting me with rocks, then beating me with clubs and boards. It was like getting hit by a sponge, and our brawl ended up being the most fun I’ve had since Beth was here. The gang dubbed me Il gigante (The Giant) and made me stay and have gelato with them. They were eager to pose for a photo-op, especially when I told them that it would be on the Web. One of the cops posed too, in a nice threatening stance. I never did find out what the movie is about; I’ll have to see if they do more filming in the area. All in all, a blast of an afternoon. Check out the pics at http://www.flickr.com/photos/danielcmack/sets/72157604965523500/.

Thursday 8 May: On the street where I live: a morning stroll through northern Trastevere

I talk a lot about Trastevere, and folks have asked me for more information. The name means “across the Tevere (Tiber)” because in ancient times, the west bank of the river was not within the city limits. Being on the same side of the river as the Vatican, Trastevere came under the protection and rule of the pope after the fall of Rome. The current labyrinth of streets, allies, and multiple tiny piazzas dates to the Middle Ages. I live in a new building, and it’s 17^th century!

I took a walk this morning around my neighborhood, while it was relatively quiet. You can see some pics at http://www.flickr.com/photos/danielcmack/sets/72157604944477490/. I started at Ponte Sisto, the footbridge across the Tiber that takes you downtown. At the end of the bridge is Piazza Trilussa, a small, busy square that is a popular meeting place for young people, and also the site of my local black market. From Piazza Trilussa you can go down several different streets that quickly take you into the jumbled warren that is Trastevere.

Via del Moro is a great street. Every other doorway houses a bar, caffè, trattoria, or restaurant. Most are closed in the morning, so you don’t really see them in the picture. There are some really cool shops here as well. Polvere di Tempo is an amazing little place specializing in timepieces of various types. It sells sundials, astrolabes, sextants, hour glasses, and other chronometers of all types, as well as jewelry and souvenirs. There are several interior design shops specializing in both antiques and in contemporary Italian design. At the corner of Via del Moro and Vicolo di Renzi is Forno la Rinella, my amazing pizza and bread bakery. They fire up the wood oven every morning at 5 am, and I wake up to the smell of the first batch of fresh bread. There’s even a little palestra (gymnasium) on this block. It’s about the size of my single room apartment, and does a brisk business. Further down Via del Moro are more bars and eating establishments, several shops for clothing, jewelry and accessories, and a bakery that specializes only in chocolate! I’ll have to get pictures of this place when it’s open. The street then takes you to Piazza di Santa Maria in Trastevere, the heart of the district, and favorite hangout of the trasteverini. Going back to Piazza Trilussa, our gateway into northern Trastevere, you walk down Via Benedetta/Via di San Dorotea, past several designer boutiques, and finally come to the most excellent wifi caffè, Good. Good is comfortable inside and outside, has a fun and friendly staff, offers great coffee and food at decent prices, and has free wireless that works most of the time. All this, and the music of my college days too! I haven’t heard this much Human League and Thompson Twins since I lived in Youngstown in the 80’s. They also play some great tunes, like early B52’s, Violent Femmes, Ramones, and The Smiths. And of course, every third song is Madonna. Just down from Good is a local fruit stand I go to a lot.

Further down the street you see the Porta Settimiana, once a gate in the old papal walls. Via Garibaldi and other streets lead uphill out of Trastevere to the Gianicolo, the Janiculum Hill, whose summit houses the American Academy in Rome, monuments to the heroes of Italy’s unification in the 19^th century, and many luxury villas, some still private residences. Turning the other direction, you head back into the heart of Trastevere, where Vicolo del Cinque, Via della Scala, and other cobbled roads meander through the district. Every block or two is a little piazza, usually with a church. I am within a five minutes’ walk of at least a dozen Catholic churches: Santa Maria in Trastevere, San Crisogono, San Calisto, San Egedio, San Dorotea, San Giovanni de Malva, Santa Maria della Scala, San Francesco a Ripa, and several others. The first two (S.M. in T. and San Crisogono) are historically and artistically important, and the others all house at least some art or have historical significance of some type.

Past Piazza di Santa Maria you go through Piazza San Calisto and finally come to Piazza San Cosimato. This square hosts the weekday open air market from 7 am to 1 pm. You can get fresh fruit, vegetables, flowers, and other produce here, as well as small household goods. I do a lot of shopping here.

I love this little neighborhood in Trastevere. The morning is a good time for a walk, because it’s pretty quiet, probably because everyone was up partying until 3 am the night before. If you ever come to Rome, make sure you schedule some time in Trastevere. You won’t find more local color and good food cheap anywhere else in Rome, or on earth.

Wednesday 7 May: So who is this Augustus guy, anyway? or, Dan writes way too much about his favorite historical figure

I’ve had some questions about Augustus. Who was he, why do I keep mentioning him, and why is so important, not just to Roman, but to Western and world history? I’ll give you a quick overview. I’m going to really simplify things.

According to tradition, myth, and a tiny bit of historical fact, Rome was founded on 21 April 753 BCE by Romulus and Remus, twin sons of the god Mars and a Vestal Virgin named Julia Rhea Silvia. Julia was a princess from the ruling family of a town called Alba Longa, and was supposedly descended from Aeneas, a Trojan who escaped the fall of Troy and led a band of refugees to Italy. His adventures are the topic of Virgil’s Aeneid, the great epic poem of Rome. Aeneas in turn was the son of a Trojan prince and the goddess Venus. So Romulus, the first king of Rome (after his whacked his brother Remus) was supposed to be descended from not only the old Trojan royal family, but from the god of war and the goddess of love as well. Remember this, we’ll come back to it.

Rome was a small city-state, one of many in Italy. Romulus was followed by six more mostly legendary kings. The last king, an Etruscan named Tarquinius Superbus, was driven out by the leading families of Rome (the patricians) in 510 BCE, and on 1 January 509, the Roman Republic was established. The Romans hated the title rex “king” and in place of a single ruler, elected two chief magistrates called consuls. Consuls were elected by all adult male Roman citizens (but your vote counted for more depending on your birth and your wealth), and had supreme civil and military power. The Senate, which dated back to the kings, was composed of the heads of the noblest Roman families (senator means “elder” in Latin). The Republic had a complex system of citizen assemblies, voting, and lesser magistrates.

Over the next five centuries, the Roman Republic fought two constant struggles. Externally, it conquered first central Italy, then the entire peninsula, then Sicily, southern Gaul (now France), Spain, and began to expand south and east. The Republic waged the three famous Punic Wars against Carthage, a powerful trading state in Africa (modern Lybia). Eventually, Rome beat Carthage, and added most of northern Africa, except Egypt, to their territories. The Republic also fought and eventually conquered the Hellenistic kingdoms of the eastern Mediterranean, the successor states to Alexander the Great’s empire. They also fought the Germanic, Gaulic, and Celtic “barbarians” in northern and western Europe. By the first century BCE, the Republic ruled most of the Mediterranean world and western Europe.

Meanwhile, an internal struggle was also going on. The oldest families, the patricians, tried to keep membership in the Senate, the consulships, the state priesthoods, and other offices for themselves. The plebians (everyone else) wanted a share in politics, and after a lot of internal struggle, legislation, and infighting, the plebians were admitted to participation in these as well (as long as they were rich plebians).

By the year 100 BCE, the year of Julius Caesar’s birth, the Roman Republic was the largest, wealthiest, and most powerful force in the known world. However, it was being torn apart internally by power struggles among the ruling classes. The legions came to owe allegiance to their generals and not to the Republic. Marius, Sulla, and Pompey were all powerful civil and military leaders who fought for supremacy and further tore apart the Republic. Finally, Julius Caesar came to power. The Julius family was one of the oldest in Rome, and claimed to be descended from Romulus, Mars, Rhea Silvia, Aeneas, and Venus (I told you to remember them!). Caesar had conquered all of Gaul for the Republic, chased his rival Pompey to Egypt where Pompey was killed, dallied there with Queen Cleopatra, who bore him a son named Caesarion (“Little Caesar” in Greek), and proceeded to put the state in order. Caesar was proclaimed dictator for life, and a group of senators were afraid that he was going to make himself rex, king, which was anathema to the Republic. Led by Brutus, a descendant of the original founder of the Republic five hundred years earlier, they assassinated Caesar at a meeting of the Senate.

Caesar was succeeded by two heirs. His political heir was Marcus Antonius, Marc Antony, who had been a long-time military and political ally. Caesar also had a family heir, his great nephew Gaius Octavius. Caesar had one child, a daughter who died young. Caesar also had a sister Julia, who had a daughter Atia. Atia had two children, a daughter Octavia, and a son, Gaius Octavius. Caesar took an interest in Ocativius’ upbringing, made him a state priest at an early age (a great honor one so young), and was planning on taking him along on his next military campaign. When Caesar was assassinated, Octavius was 19. Caesar’s will was read in the Senate, and in it, he adopted Octavius as his son and heir. Following Roman custom, the boy changed his name to his new father’s, with his previous family name added as an adjective: Gaius Julius Caesar Octavianus. During this period, historians usually call him Octavian.
Well, there was no love lost between Caesar’s, Antony and Octavian. They did unite long enough to fight and beat the forces of Caesar’s assassins, who were all killed or committed suicide. Antony and Octavian then turned on each other. They reached an uneasy peace for a while, and tried to forge an alliance by Antony marrying Octavian’ sister Octavia. It didn’t last. Antony went east to run the Roman provinces there, and began his own affair with Cleopatra, by whom he had four children. This was the last straw for Octavian. He began one of the most famous and well-planned propaganda campaigns in history, and turned public sentiment against Antony and Cleopatra. In 31 BCE, Octavian’s forces, under the command of his right-hand man and childhood friend Marcus Agrippa, defeated Antony and Cleopatra’s fleet at the great naval battle of Actium, off the coast of Greece. Antony and Cleo ran back to Egypt, and Octavian followed them. The beaten pair finally committed suicide, Octavian declared himself ruler of Egypt and made Egypt his personal estate, and finally made his way back to Rome.

Octavian spent the next couple of years putting the Republic in order, establishing peace through most of the Roman territories, and putting an end to a century of civil war. The Senate gave him full control of the Republic’s civil and military affairs. On 13 January 27 BCE, at the age of 35, Octavian appeared before the Senate, declared that the Republic had been restored, and in a carefully staged move, he offered to abdicate all of his powers. The Senate adjourned for three days. On 16 January, far from accepting Octavian’s resignation, the Roman Senate proclaimed him the first emperor, giving him the title Augustus (which means majestic, venerable, consecrated, worthy of worship). He ruled another forty years, and died in 14 CE/AD. His title Augustus was adopted by all later Roman emperors, by the medieval rulers of the Holy Roman Empire and the later German and Austrian empires, by the Byzantine emperors, and by the czars of Russia.

Augustus established a complex, subtle, and flexible system of government for the Roman Empire, which lasted another five hundred years. His political system was able to keep the huge empire running despite the fact that several of its later rulers were lazy, crazy, degenerate, perverted, incompetent, or downright insane (Caligula, Augustus’ great-grandson and the third emperor, comes immediately to mind). A great patron of the arts and of literature, Augustus boasted that he “found Rome a city of brick and left it a city of marble.” He financially supported of some of the greatest poets of all time, including Virgil and Horace, and the Augustan Age is called the Golden Age of Latin literature. During his lifetime, he implored people not to worship him as a divinity. At his funeral, men said that they saw Augustus’ soul ascend from the smoke of the funeral pyre into heaven, and the Senate proclaimed him a god. Temples to the Divine Augustus were built throughout the Empire, and it is estimated that there were over 60,000 statues of him throughout the Roman world.

Augustus has always been a controversial figure. Was he a sincere restorer of order, a cynical politician, a subtly manipulative tyrant, or a combination of these? There are many ancient and modern sources on Augustus. Ask me for a recommendation.

Tuesday 6 May: Online in Italy

Here’s how I usually get online. I get up early and have coffee, granola, yogurt and fruit. Then, if I’m not going to AAR (where I can get online also), I head for Good, the local wifi caffè with fun waiters, good salads, great coffee, and pop/New Wave hits of the ‘80s. The benefits of getting online at the Academy are that I can plug my computer in, thus saving my battery. I also have access there to a large collection of print and digital resources for classical antiquity. The benefits of getting online at Good are that the place is tons of fun and you can eat and drink while online. The main problem with access at Good is that I can’t plug in. My battery lasts about an hour and a half. That is usually long enough to do email and other tasks. Uploading pics to Flickr is a problem there, though. Because my camera takes such ginormous photos (12.2 mega pixels!), it takes an hour to upload twenty. I have to upload batches so they all upload before my battery dies.

Every now and then, the router goes out at Good. Plus, they turn the wifi off at 7 pm. If I need to get online in the evening, I head for an Internet point. There is a couple within two blocks of me. At these points, you pay, usually something like 1 euro for a half hour, to access the Internet on their computers. You can print for a fee, fax for a fee, and use a jump drive for a fee. EA found out the hard way that they charge a euro just to stick a jump drive into a port.

Internet points are good if you need to print something, but there are a few things that make them a pain. First, the seats are usually really cheap and uncomfortable Ikea bar stools that are too high for comfort, have terrible seats, and offer absolutely no back support. Second, everyone walking past, including the employees, stops to read over your shoulder with absolutely no qualms. Third, the computers use Italian keyboards. This is not a bad thing in itself, since I suppose the majority of folks who use them are Italian. Still, if you’re not used to one, they take some getting used to, especially if you have fat fingers like me. The left shift key is tiny, because like many other keys, it has been split in two to provide vowels with accents and other diacritical marks. Various frequently-used characters, including !, ?, ’, ; and : are in completely different places, and you have to hunt for them. You need to hit three keys at once to get @, which sort of slows down the typing of email addresses. I understand the need for diacritics (no, they are not fancy little decorations for foreign words; they actually are part of the orthography). I would still love to find an Internet point with US keyboards!

Once in a while I can get online in my apartment. Occasionally some local wireless network gets cranked up so high that I can piggy back onto it if it’s unsecured. I wouldn’t do banking or buying on a connection like this, but I figure it’s fine to check the weather, read the news, or look up a reference. Otherwise, I do most of my work offline (Flickr Uploadr is a lifesaver), then cut and paste the next time I get online. I have been told by blogging purists that this is not “true” blogging, and I should only compose online. I invite them to purchase secure international roaming access for me.

Monday 5 May: Showering in the dark; or, The exploding light bulb

I woke early, probably because Sunday night is the quietest evening in Trastevere. It was still dark when I got into the shower. My bathroom is typical of many in Europe: tiny, dark, and windowless. There is a tub, and it has a hand-held shower hose. Here’s the problem: the hose is one meter, and I’m six foot three. To compound things, there is of course no shower curtain or shower door. Well, I can’t sit in the tub because of my bad knee, so I shower standing. With the short hose, this means that I shower every morning bent over at first, washing my hair and showering the top half, then stand up straight and finish everything south of my belly button. I’m sure you get the picture (or maybe you don’t want to).

Anyway, as I was washing my hair this morning, the hose slipped from my hand. Since the water was on, the hose began to whiplash everywhere and drenched the room, including the light bulbs of the two tiny fixtures providing the only light in the room. Now, what do you suppose happens to a hot light bulb if you splash water on it? It sounds like a science experiment, but you may not want to use it for your kid’s science fair project. Of course the bulbs exploded, both plunging me into total darkness and spraying the floor with shards of broken glass. The lack of light was not actually a big deal, since shampoo was streaming into my eyes anyway. I managed to get the hose under control, rinse my hair, and carefully make my way out of the bathroom without stepping on glass.

I learned later that day that my Italian is good enough to buy light bulbs at the tobacco store (where you buy most necessities). The rest of the day seemed fairly uneventful after my exciting early-morning shower.

Sunday 4 May: Laundry at long last!

Okay, it’s my fault I let it go so long. I haven’t done laundry since before Beth came, so it’s been two and half weeks. I was wearing my last clean pair of socks and boxers, and down to drying off with a hand towel. The last time I was at the lavanderia I had asked if they were open on Sundays. They told me that they were the only place in Rome that was even open on Easter and Christmas that wasn’t a church. Since there only eight machines, and apparently all of Rome west of the Tiber and south of the Vatican does their laundry there, it’s a good idea to get there early unless you want to wait for hours just to start. On Saturday nights, Trastevere parties until 5 am rather than the usual 3. I got up at 6 after an hour’s nap, drank four stovetop espressos, and headed down Via de San Francesco a Ripa to the laundromat. I beat everyone there except the painter, busy at work perched on a dilapidated latter that looked like it might have been left over from when Michelangelo did the Sistine Chapel ceiling.

The inside of the lavanderia is bright yellow, and there’s a cute mural over the washers with life-size windows, clothes hanging out to dry on lines strung between them (I should get a close line and dry mine that way; Trastevere is filled with drying laundry most days of the week). I’ll take a picture next time I go. So I start to load my clothes into two machines (which luckily hold 40 pounds each), and the painter meanwhile casually props his rickety ladder on top of the machines, climbs up carrying his 4-inch brush and bucket of bright yellow paint, and starts to paint right above me and every article of clothing I have in Italy. I had visions of spending the next few months running around with yellow spatters all over my clothes, but I worried needlessly. With his big brush, the guy deftly painted the wall over the machines, going right up to the mural without getting any yellow on the art and without spilling a drop.

I finally finished my laundry, and spent the rest of the morning putting it away and cleaning the apartment. In the afternoon, I went across the Tiber and did what Romans do on Sunday afternoon: I hung out, strolling around, enjoying the beautiful scenery and stopping a couple of times for a caffè. I have to admit, I do love la dolce vita!

Saturday 3 May: Answering the doorbell; or, I’m sorry, you don’t live here

My doorbell rang last night. It’s rung a few times before, and I have never answered it. Usually, I’m sitting around in boxers reading or writing, and I don’t feel like getting dressed. Anyway, it’s most likely just someone leaning against it by mistake, or a young couple necking in the doorway. Once, it rang and then a woman yelled up to my window asking for the name of the realtor I rent from. All other times, it’s rung once and then stopped.

This time, though, someone was insistent. The bell kept ringing every thirty seconds or so. I finally got dressed and went down the three flights of steps from my first floor apartment (you figure it out), and answered the outside door. There stood a young couple who tried to speak to me in terrible Italian. I asked them if they spoke English, and they said a little, and that they were from Buenos Aires. We switched to Spanish, since mine was better than their English. I made sure that I didn’t use any of the words that I learned while working in the prison; Roberta assures me that they are not meant for polite company.

Anyway, this young pair stood in the doorway and told me that they were moving into my apartment. Now, I am pretty organized about this sort of thing, and I am absolutely certain that I would have remembered inviting an Argentine couple to live with me in Italy, so I was sure that they were wrong. No, they said, and they pulled out a contract with my address on it. They were very young, very courteous, and very confused. They did not seem to think it at all unusual that they would just move into my one-room pad with me. They were apparently used to different standards of privacy than I am. Well, the contract was in English, which they knew only marginally, and reading it I saw that they were supposed to be on the fifth floor. If I’m on the first, and I have to go up three flights, I wondered to myself if that meant that they had to go up fifteen?

I explained the situation to them, and they seemed quite relieved. Then they asked me for the key. I explained to them that I was not the realtor or the super, and that I didn’t have it. They would have camped out in the entrance hall, which is literally three by five feet, but I saw a phone number in tiny print on their contract. This is why I am glad that I have international roaming. I pulled out my cell, dialed the number, and handed them the phone. In less than a minute they were able to arrange a meeting with their realtor to give them a key. Grateful beyond words, they offered to take me out on the town with them. Now, partying in Trastevere with a couple of Argentines sounded like fun, but I had to get to bed because I had an early date in the morning. I was finally, at long last, going to do the laundry again.

Friday 2 May: Invasion of the tourists

May heralds the arrival of tourists to Italy, and today proved it. Since May 1 is a holiday it’s not noticeable then. Today, though, the already crazy traffic in Trastevere was suddenly augmented by tours in pedal rickshaws and on Segways. I watched with amusement as a couple of teenage American boys kept going headlong over the front of their Segways. I know that Segways are supposed to be easy to ride, but have you ever seen the video of George W. Bush on one? YouTube it!

The other thing that happens in Rome in May is the arrival of summer. All of Europe has had an unseasonably cool spring, and the Romans have been bundled up since I arrived. Today it was suddenly eighty and sweltering (I don’t know what “sweltering” is in metric). Walking along the Tiber I looked at the sycamore trees, covered so thickly in dark green leaves that you can hardly see the branches. When I first arrived here, the sycamore leaves were tiny and pale yellow-green, just emerging from their buds. I have been in Italy for a month now.