“Italy will never be a normal country. Because Italy is Italy. If we were a normal country, we wouldn’t have Rome.” -Matteo Renzi, Prime Minister of Italy; 2014-2016
We arrive at the Eternal City, under California-blue skies and first blossoms of primavera. Our luggage arrives a day later, which seems like…well, an eternity. The blasé attitude of the airport baggage courier re-set our San Franciscan expectations for efficiency to a more Italian cadence. So, we are here!
We are comfortable in our bright, fascist-era apartment in the Borgo district – a once quiet hamlet that provided earthly services to the adjoining Vatican.
Each sunny morning, we promenade across San Pietro’s square surveying the faithful who converge upon the Holy See. Koreans, interestingly, seem to be the most represented travelers this season. Fortunately, given the surprisingly sparse crowds, we nip into the magnificent Basilica for a sacrosanct pause.
Rome is dotted with scores of dark stone and marble churches, fragrant with cool, calm interiors. Often these unassuming facades conceal astonishingly beautiful architecture and devotional art that provide instant meditative moments.
Our principal sanctuaries for contemplation are the sidewalk cafes and oak-mirrored expresso bars that define Roman street life. Seeking the perfect caffe latte, we join locals at arcane Sciascia, where rich chocolate is added to fresh roasted beans. Well-heeled citizens pop in 4-5 times a day for a caffeine boost, a hearty laugh, and perhaps a whiff of local gossip.
Another monument to idle pleasure is regal Canova on the expansive Piazza del Popolo which anchors one end of the capital’s tourist promenades. Here, price be damned, we nurse tall glasses of hot coffee, luxuriate in the warming sun, and recline amidst the international set for an hour’s serving of ascendancy. Our observatory for the human condition, filtered through shaded Mediterranean lenses.
Crossing strada in Rome, even at the cross-walk, is great sport. The contest breaks down to three options: 1) step into the street and cars/cycles, throttle forward, disregard your existence, 2) take two steps and the speeding vehicles swerve around you in gestures of punitive annoyance, 3) emulate local custom by inserting yourself in onrushing traffic with casual indifference, knowing that your will has triumphed.
Our default is to meekly wait for a lull in the action and madly run across the via, straining our usual composure!
Our choice of food favors the simple pleasures that are Italy. Fresh pastas (cacio e pepe), whole grilled sea bass, home-baked cakes, return us nightly to the humble trattorias (like Perdincibacco) in our quiet neighborhood.
When Guide Michelin gets around to rewarding soul, they will find abundant candidates for heavenly stars in our ‘hood.
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All photos captured on iPhone 7+
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Sounds like such a delightful time! The street crossing sounds harrowing! I’m looking forward to following along your wonderful journey.
Hello my dear Howard,
Such a lovely post! And so appreciated as I see the sun shining on Lisa and you “not being normal,” ha. ha. in Italy. So delighted to be traveling with you too! Your photos are so expressive and real, second only to your prose! I feel right next to you for my 3rd caffeine boost at arcane Sciascia.