Italy 2010 - Day 3 - Venice to Rome
Jul. 12th, 2010 07:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
deathpixieApologies for the delay - post-holiday blah ate my motivation!
We bid farewell to Venice and boarded the Very Fast Train to Rome, a four hour trip in all. I was in first class, as that was the only seat left on the train when I booked my ticket, and it was appropriately comfortable. For some reason, the carriage was also full of Australians. Rather than chat, however, I developed the Italian habit of napping when able and spent most of the trip asleep, waking occsionally to the blackness of a tunnel as we travelled through the Alps. Any pictures of this part of the trip come from D or E's Facebooks, or will once they post them all!
Termini, the main station in Rome, was chaotic. Rome is Italy's largest city and summer is peak tourist season - that's a lot of people in one space! We managed to locate the local Metro and with the help of an enterprising homeless girl who had set herself up at the ticket machine as an informal operator, we got on the right train. Our hotel was only two stops from Termini, near Piazza Barberini, named for a powerful Papal family abd tge palazzo nearby. I discovered later in my Lonely Planet guide book that the piazza was a famous "speaker's corner" for those with a political statement to make, but that afternoon the fountain was quiet, strangely incongruous amid the sea of traffic swirling around it.
The Hotel King was easy to find - the big silver K door handles helped! - and after checking in and having the second of my three showers a day, we had lunch at a restaurant two doors down on the concierge's recommendation. The food was good, the service, from our waitress at least, surly. Not the best introduction.
In our rush to flee the confusion of Termini, we'd neglected to stop for me to get tickets to and from Naples for our last leg of the trip. The hotel-provided map showed the walk wasn't far and after booking a hop-on hop-off bus tour for the next day, we decided to walk down, taking in the various sights along the way.
Rome is truly a cosmopolitan city, but one that is highly aware of its roots and its history. They take pride in their past and there is a significantly old (as in, at least 100 years old) building on every corner, it seems. Marble - or faux marble - is the material of choice for any culturally important structure and beneath the summer sun they blaze blindingly white, even beneath the layer of smog from the traffic. There are still homey touches, too. many apartments have herb boxes or trailling climbing plants, or the ubiquitous tomato sitting in a pot on the windowsill. Plants are greenery are important, venerable plane trees lining the streets and brilliant flowers blooming over the railings.
It is also a modern city, with a modern city's traffic and the Italian casual attitude towards things like road rules and personal space. Not quite as laissez-faire as Vietnam, but it made crossing the road an exercise in alertness - there were certainly times I was reminded of the old video game "Frogger" as we scurried across a busy street. Termini was still packed, and while I waited in what was hopefully the right line for a ticket, E and D went wandering the adjoining shopping centre to pick up a couple of things. I wound up talking to a woman newly arrived from Sweden (who was nearly expiring from the heat), an Australian girl living in England and an Indian couple who asked for itinerary advice. With the help of the trusty Lonely Planet Guide (LPG) I managed to explain to them that it would be a bit much to do Florence-Pisa-Venice in one day, since they'd spend at least six hours travelling on trains.
Tickets secured, family reclaimed, we decided to do the on-foot tour for the rest of the afternoon to cover those parts of Rome we wanted to see but might not get a chance to the next day. It was a good idea, taking in many of Rome's lesser-known sights, such as the Palazzo di Magherita, once the home of Queen Magherita and now the U.S. Embassy. The Piazzo Repubblico and the nearby Church of Santa Maria degli Angeli e dei Martiri are familiar to anyone who has seen a movie set in Rome and understandably so. The church especially is fascinating - originally the site of a Roman bath complex, the ruins remained under debate until a baron had a dream that it should be turned into a church. Eventually it happened, with various architects called on to attempt the conversion, until Michelangelo took on the job and designed a structure that incorporated the ruins but created a beautiful place of worship inside. Also inside is a timeline on the floor, with the sun hitting a particular point at the same time every day. Unlike Indiana Jones, however, it doesn't open up a secret treasure room.
There was also an interesting display on Galilieo in the church, focussing on the religious aspects of his work and pointing out that far from a heretic, for which he was placed under house arrest for the rest of his life, he was a religious man who believed his discoveries proved God's design.
I'm not a religious person per se, but travelling through Italy, you become aware of the important of faith to the Italian people and the differences to be found between that faith and organised religion. Every church is an artistic masterpiece, trimmed in marble and gold, and you can't help but wonder at an organisation that tithes its people to create such lavish edifices and to whose glory they wound up being established - God or the Church itself. But the ordinary people, far from resenting the wealth of the Church, are proud of their places of worship, and treat them with respect and awe.
We hit a geographical snag at the Medici Palace, hemmed in by miles of ancient wall and modern highway, and, of course, we chose the wrong direction to go in. The gardens of the palace are now an enormous public park and are lovely but difficult to navigate, and we walked around lost for a while before backtracking and working our way back to our hotel (and shower number 3 for me!) while E went shopping.
As evening fell, we set out again, this time to the Spanish Steps, a well-known gathering place. A group of young Spaniards, singing and cheering, gave us a clue as to who had won the World Cup (go Paul the Octopus!) and earned applause and cheers from the crowd on the steps.
I've never been a fan of the hard sell, even in stores; the fastest way to make me leave is to pester me about what I'm looking for and doing the hard sell. Let me browse, and if I have questions, I'll ask, okay?
On the Spanish Steps, we encountered the hardest sellers of all - Indian hawkers, mostly of water, roses or novelty plastic toys. The rose guys especially were hard to dodge - they begin by giving you a rose for each member of the party, telling you it's good luck. You accept, thinking it's some quaint local custom, but then comes the hard sell. He won't leave you alone until everyone in the group has giving him money. Giving back the roses doesn't work - he will not leave you alone! The last time I encountered this kind of persistence was Vietnam, and at least the begger kids were actually homeless and starving. The rose guy even offers change if you try the old "I don't have any change" trick. Eventually, all you can do is a) given him some money or b) actively flee.
I chose a), D and E went with b).
We escaped to a restaurant for dinner, out on on the patio since it was still so hot out. The food was amazing - I had scampi risotto that melted in my mouth - and the ambience very Italian, down to the wandering accordian buskers, a tag-team that looked like an older and younger brother, sharing a beaten-up old instrument. The downside of patios, the same as in Canada, is that's where the smokers hang out, and in Italy, there's a lot of smokers. Still, we had a lovely meal and took our time meandering back to the hotel. Not too long, however; we had a packed day ahead of us the next morning.
We bid farewell to Venice and boarded the Very Fast Train to Rome, a four hour trip in all. I was in first class, as that was the only seat left on the train when I booked my ticket, and it was appropriately comfortable. For some reason, the carriage was also full of Australians. Rather than chat, however, I developed the Italian habit of napping when able and spent most of the trip asleep, waking occsionally to the blackness of a tunnel as we travelled through the Alps. Any pictures of this part of the trip come from D or E's Facebooks, or will once they post them all!
Termini, the main station in Rome, was chaotic. Rome is Italy's largest city and summer is peak tourist season - that's a lot of people in one space! We managed to locate the local Metro and with the help of an enterprising homeless girl who had set herself up at the ticket machine as an informal operator, we got on the right train. Our hotel was only two stops from Termini, near Piazza Barberini, named for a powerful Papal family abd tge palazzo nearby. I discovered later in my Lonely Planet guide book that the piazza was a famous "speaker's corner" for those with a political statement to make, but that afternoon the fountain was quiet, strangely incongruous amid the sea of traffic swirling around it.
The Hotel King was easy to find - the big silver K door handles helped! - and after checking in and having the second of my three showers a day, we had lunch at a restaurant two doors down on the concierge's recommendation. The food was good, the service, from our waitress at least, surly. Not the best introduction.
In our rush to flee the confusion of Termini, we'd neglected to stop for me to get tickets to and from Naples for our last leg of the trip. The hotel-provided map showed the walk wasn't far and after booking a hop-on hop-off bus tour for the next day, we decided to walk down, taking in the various sights along the way.
Rome is truly a cosmopolitan city, but one that is highly aware of its roots and its history. They take pride in their past and there is a significantly old (as in, at least 100 years old) building on every corner, it seems. Marble - or faux marble - is the material of choice for any culturally important structure and beneath the summer sun they blaze blindingly white, even beneath the layer of smog from the traffic. There are still homey touches, too. many apartments have herb boxes or trailling climbing plants, or the ubiquitous tomato sitting in a pot on the windowsill. Plants are greenery are important, venerable plane trees lining the streets and brilliant flowers blooming over the railings.
It is also a modern city, with a modern city's traffic and the Italian casual attitude towards things like road rules and personal space. Not quite as laissez-faire as Vietnam, but it made crossing the road an exercise in alertness - there were certainly times I was reminded of the old video game "Frogger" as we scurried across a busy street. Termini was still packed, and while I waited in what was hopefully the right line for a ticket, E and D went wandering the adjoining shopping centre to pick up a couple of things. I wound up talking to a woman newly arrived from Sweden (who was nearly expiring from the heat), an Australian girl living in England and an Indian couple who asked for itinerary advice. With the help of the trusty Lonely Planet Guide (LPG) I managed to explain to them that it would be a bit much to do Florence-Pisa-Venice in one day, since they'd spend at least six hours travelling on trains.
Tickets secured, family reclaimed, we decided to do the on-foot tour for the rest of the afternoon to cover those parts of Rome we wanted to see but might not get a chance to the next day. It was a good idea, taking in many of Rome's lesser-known sights, such as the Palazzo di Magherita, once the home of Queen Magherita and now the U.S. Embassy. The Piazzo Repubblico and the nearby Church of Santa Maria degli Angeli e dei Martiri are familiar to anyone who has seen a movie set in Rome and understandably so. The church especially is fascinating - originally the site of a Roman bath complex, the ruins remained under debate until a baron had a dream that it should be turned into a church. Eventually it happened, with various architects called on to attempt the conversion, until Michelangelo took on the job and designed a structure that incorporated the ruins but created a beautiful place of worship inside. Also inside is a timeline on the floor, with the sun hitting a particular point at the same time every day. Unlike Indiana Jones, however, it doesn't open up a secret treasure room.
There was also an interesting display on Galilieo in the church, focussing on the religious aspects of his work and pointing out that far from a heretic, for which he was placed under house arrest for the rest of his life, he was a religious man who believed his discoveries proved God's design.
I'm not a religious person per se, but travelling through Italy, you become aware of the important of faith to the Italian people and the differences to be found between that faith and organised religion. Every church is an artistic masterpiece, trimmed in marble and gold, and you can't help but wonder at an organisation that tithes its people to create such lavish edifices and to whose glory they wound up being established - God or the Church itself. But the ordinary people, far from resenting the wealth of the Church, are proud of their places of worship, and treat them with respect and awe.
We hit a geographical snag at the Medici Palace, hemmed in by miles of ancient wall and modern highway, and, of course, we chose the wrong direction to go in. The gardens of the palace are now an enormous public park and are lovely but difficult to navigate, and we walked around lost for a while before backtracking and working our way back to our hotel (and shower number 3 for me!) while E went shopping.
As evening fell, we set out again, this time to the Spanish Steps, a well-known gathering place. A group of young Spaniards, singing and cheering, gave us a clue as to who had won the World Cup (go Paul the Octopus!) and earned applause and cheers from the crowd on the steps.
I've never been a fan of the hard sell, even in stores; the fastest way to make me leave is to pester me about what I'm looking for and doing the hard sell. Let me browse, and if I have questions, I'll ask, okay?
On the Spanish Steps, we encountered the hardest sellers of all - Indian hawkers, mostly of water, roses or novelty plastic toys. The rose guys especially were hard to dodge - they begin by giving you a rose for each member of the party, telling you it's good luck. You accept, thinking it's some quaint local custom, but then comes the hard sell. He won't leave you alone until everyone in the group has giving him money. Giving back the roses doesn't work - he will not leave you alone! The last time I encountered this kind of persistence was Vietnam, and at least the begger kids were actually homeless and starving. The rose guy even offers change if you try the old "I don't have any change" trick. Eventually, all you can do is a) given him some money or b) actively flee.
I chose a), D and E went with b).
We escaped to a restaurant for dinner, out on on the patio since it was still so hot out. The food was amazing - I had scampi risotto that melted in my mouth - and the ambience very Italian, down to the wandering accordian buskers, a tag-team that looked like an older and younger brother, sharing a beaten-up old instrument. The downside of patios, the same as in Canada, is that's where the smokers hang out, and in Italy, there's a lot of smokers. Still, we had a lovely meal and took our time meandering back to the hotel. Not too long, however; we had a packed day ahead of us the next morning.
