Tuesday, June 06, 2006
Journal of Italy - Rome - Arrival
Rome - May 17, 2006
I am determined to set down a record of my trip, slowly and with some dallying. At the risk of boring you into coma, I am going to explore a lot of facets and likely post a lot of photos. Some wonderful things happened, both externally and internally, and I feel that if I don't explore it carefully, things will elude me.
Much of Italy struck me that way. An elusive, rather secret quality to things
that lurked behind wrought iron gates, baroque window casings and damask drapes. I loved the elegance and mystery of much of it--as well as its other sides.
I arrived in Rome via Frankfurt. The driver wasn't waiting for me and I panicked as I dragged my two suitcases around the airport peering at all the little signs held by dozens of transfer agents. A kind Roman who worked some kind of tourist booth called for me, and my driver, Andrea, finally appeared. We climbed into his minivan and he gave me a fast (and I do mean fast) tour of the city on the way to the hotel.
I'm not sure what I expected. Modern skyscrapers adorned with Trevi fountains? I had some idea in my head that didn't materialize. What I found instead were wide boulevards lined with trees--an abundance of greenery and speeding traffic in a city sprawl that was more Washington DC than New York City. As we wove in and out of thick traffic, the stream of driving violations was head turning. I hung onto the seat as we took a corner, and bam! We were surrounded on both sides with ancient colossal ruins, right in the middle of the city amidst the traffic, the trees and the pandamonium. It was surreal. Andrea reeled off a few descriptions in broken English. That was Nero's palace and that was the Colosseum. And we sped on our way. I wanted to yell: Stop, stop. My brain simply couldn't take it in. THE Colosseum? But it was behind me before I knew it.
The Hotel dei Consoli is in the section of town close to the Vatican. The hotel actually covers a corner of a city block, but its entrace is narrow with a closet size lobby,an elevator and steps being the only egress from a standing space in front of a tiny counter.
I had been flying for almost twelve hours plus the lack of sleep (excitement) the night before and I collapsed on the bed without another thought about where I was. Through the shuttered window that opened onto the street, I could hear a street
musician playing a saxaphone. He was noodling "April in Paris," as I shut my eyes and slept.
##
Next
Home
I am determined to set down a record of my trip, slowly and with some dallying. At the risk of boring you into coma, I am going to explore a lot of facets and likely post a lot of photos. Some wonderful things happened, both externally and internally, and I feel that if I don't explore it carefully, things will elude me.
Much of Italy struck me that way. An elusive, rather secret quality to things
that lurked behind wrought iron gates, baroque window casings and damask drapes. I loved the elegance and mystery of much of it--as well as its other sides.
I arrived in Rome via Frankfurt. The driver wasn't waiting for me and I panicked as I dragged my two suitcases around the airport peering at all the little signs held by dozens of transfer agents. A kind Roman who worked some kind of tourist booth called for me, and my driver, Andrea, finally appeared. We climbed into his minivan and he gave me a fast (and I do mean fast) tour of the city on the way to the hotel.
I'm not sure what I expected. Modern skyscrapers adorned with Trevi fountains? I had some idea in my head that didn't materialize. What I found instead were wide boulevards lined with trees--an abundance of greenery and speeding traffic in a city sprawl that was more Washington DC than New York City. As we wove in and out of thick traffic, the stream of driving violations was head turning. I hung onto the seat as we took a corner, and bam! We were surrounded on both sides with ancient colossal ruins, right in the middle of the city amidst the traffic, the trees and the pandamonium. It was surreal. Andrea reeled off a few descriptions in broken English. That was Nero's palace and that was the Colosseum. And we sped on our way. I wanted to yell: Stop, stop. My brain simply couldn't take it in. THE Colosseum? But it was behind me before I knew it.
The Hotel dei Consoli is in the section of town close to the Vatican. The hotel actually covers a corner of a city block, but its entrace is narrow with a closet size lobby,an elevator and steps being the only egress from a standing space in front of a tiny counter.
I had been flying for almost twelve hours plus the lack of sleep (excitement) the night before and I collapsed on the bed without another thought about where I was. Through the shuttered window that opened onto the street, I could hear a street
musician playing a saxaphone. He was noodling "April in Paris," as I shut my eyes and slept.
##
