SPQR

Primo Giorno

So then. We arrived and waited for hours while the hotel staff dealt with us. We finally gave up on seeing the room which wasn't ready by 1PM --those long lunches-- and went to town. Obviously the first thing I wanted was this:

It was delicious and after we sat for a while trying to feel refreshed -- and after I giggled at the German girls sitting next to us who ordered hot chocolate and were scandalized when it looked more like chocolate sauce than a hot chocolate -- we decided it was about catzo time to walk about and see stuff. Since we got off at a metro station near the Colosseum we just walked around a bit, not really purposefully at first, given we were going there anyway. There's so much to look at when you arrive somewhere you've not been before, and especially a place like Rome, that one doesn't really need to put too much effort into "sightseeing". I don't like it anyway, I prefer to just follow new shiny objects when I'm on holiday, though always consulting a little pocket map as I go...

We stumbled onto this took a few photos, went up those steps and made a right. We walked for ages, looking at everything and absorbing the vowels and body language, the light and smells; so close to Paris yet so distinct. We discussed this and I decided Paris and Rome are sisters but separated at birth. One subtle but imposing, proud and vain-- though with good reason; the latter more natural, more willing to show its imperfections without losing any of its attraction and charm.

To illustrate my point a little bit better:

What could possibly be the point of a balcony where it was placed? I can't imagine this in Paris. It would be considered a faute de goût or a lack of taste, but in Rome it just feels like "yeah, we wanted a balcony but couldn't put it in every flat. Or in front of a window, where people can actually get to it... So what?" But I do like this, even if it is a bit like talking loudly in a restaurant (not really a problem in Italy) or asking a man when has he stopped beating his wife. It shouldn't be done but when it is, it's hilarious.

As I said, I enjoy strolling in the streets more than standing in line for hours to go see a monument or museum. Sooner or later one must "see the sights" though and so... we did. Later, rather than sooner. In the meantime we sat for a bit after the first walk and I just observed people doing stuff for a few minutes, like this guy getting some water from a street fountain We were at a piazza with a fountain in the middle (as there are so many in Rome) but I did not want to take a photo of it. To our right, there were a few shops and in front of one there was a sofa right outside, where two men were sitting and chatting. Just like that. A sofa on the pavement. A nice one, too. I did not take a photo either, it wouldn't have been polite, but it was so charming, so bold, these two guys -- one of whom I suspect was a shop owner -- sitting there at 4 or 5PM, chatting. Living.

Next we told ourselves we really ought to go to a monument, even if we were tired and it was 5-ish. So...

We went for the jugular. Why shilly-shally?

Whoever guesses how many times I asked my better half if he "knew Marcus Aurelius" gets a photo of me pretending to be the Muse of Tragedy. No, but seriously... I still can't forgive myself for not having taken a photo with one of the rather naff faux Ancient Roman soldiers holding plastic swords. I almost did, but then I'd also have had to ask "posso toccare la vostra spada?" and I don't think the bookgit would have appreciated that. We stayed there forever and ever, fascinated by the sordid, horrific, grotesque spectacles that took place there, in a place of such perfect architecture, so carefully planned; to host such unspeakable cruelty.

Then I gave a Gallic shrug and asked "shall we go have a drink then?" and so we did, to a place with a view of the Colosseum because it may very well be unspeakable, but it is not unsightly.

Cin Cin!