Well, that was an overwhelming experience not soon to be forgotten. We wandered down a block on that monster street Via della Conciliazione (built by Mussolini before WWII in his attempt to resurrect the Roman Empire) but that isn’t what I wanted to experience so we made a left and walked over to the base of the wall/ramp that joins the Vatican to the Castel San Angelo. Now we were back in old Rome again, it was a quiet street with restaurants that had tables spread all over the street. Donna needed to be recharged (food). After yesterday’s fiasco of a pizza sandwich at the metro station a better meal was in order. Donna wanted a sit down and, after all, it was Valentine’s Day. I passed up the first one because it was too close to the Vatican, then the next few were empty. I explained that since it was a crapshoot, I was looking for a restaurant with someone who might be a local. Well, the next one had a group of six priests all gathered around a table and another table with obvious Italians eating there. Seemed like a good choice and it wasn’t bad. We actually had a great lunch even if I only give the food a B+. The atmosphere was perfect and so was the company. After a while a British family sat down at the next table and for them it was a choice between spaghetti alla Carbonara, and spaghetti alla Bolongese. Well one child and one adult chose each. The youngest boy had an absolutely delightful accent, right out of a Harry Potter movie and he made me smile every time he talked.
After lunch we set off again for the Castel San Angelo and I explained again about the ramp (or rampart) and connection between the Vatican and the castle. The Pope would take off down that rampart and whole up in the castle every time he was under siege. For a while, they changed Popes by killing the previous one and anyone who conquered Rome got to choose the new Pope. We entered the castle, looked up and decided that we really didn’t need to do all of that climbing to see some windy rooms and some armor and other stuff, so we turned around and started of across the bridge. There is no traffic allowed in front of the castle and like many other bridges, there is no motor traffic allowed on the Ponte San Angelo. This is where we discovered what the truly black immigrants do for a living in Rome. They sell Gucci and other extremely expensive purses on bridges with two exits that no police vehicle can drive onto. You can find them on any of the bridges that are closed to vehicles but in few other places. There were other vendors and perhaps an Indian with flowers but I’m not sure now. I turned around to get a photo across the bridge and then we wandered into the small streets of Rome paralleling the river but not quite in view of it. We were hunting out architectural features. Always on the lookout for another fountain, but other things as well. We found ourselves on Via Giulia and I reminded Donna that all first daughters in the Caesar family were named Giulia (not sure that the street was named for one of them). We photographed entries to stores that had pieces of antiquity built into the face of the building. It seems there are tons of examples of those. Took shots of buildings with interesting mixtures of colors and textures. We came across a store that had a whole bunch of plaster feet in the window. There were large men feet down to delicate women’s feet in sandals. We got off a number of shots to send to Leonardo (yes Leonardo, she knows you like feet). There were overwhelming facades of churches on streets that are hardly more than 20’ wide, they must have really been hard up for real estate back then to put such monster churches on such small streets where no one will ever be able to get far enough back to get a feel for the majesty of the entrance to the church. Arched openings that join one street through a building to another street on the other side. And oh yes, for Chris Coseo my client, we photographed a bunch of flying buttresses. He had been giving me a hard time on the flying buttresses that were put in the project so I wanted to show him how common they are. There is a gorgeous arching bridge that connects the Palazzo Farnese across the Via Giulia to another palazzo that adjoins the river with roots and vines hanging down. I noticed that it has the Fleur-de-lis (how do you spell that Mahlon?) symbols on the bridge. I guess that the palazzo Farnese has been the French embassy for a very long time. Just beyond that I came across the fountain I had been searching for. The marble face mounted on a stonewall with the water shedding out of the mouth into a shell and then down into a bath tub. This is located at Via Giulia and the other corner of the palazzo and has always been one of my favorite small fountains. See how many times I mention the Via Giulia, this is a wonderful street to wander down. Lots of interesting stores mixed in with other things. At another time I found a store that sold obscure DVDs.
We crossed the river into Trastevere on Ponte Garibaldi so that I could bring Donna back across the island and show her what is left of Ponte Vechio (very little). Seems to me there was another span that is gone now. It is down to one last piece. Through the Teatro Marcello this time instead of around it. It is undergoing serious reconstruction and there is a team of archeologists in white hazmat suits working on digging stuff up. They have added a whole new wing to the teatro and extended it at least 30’ further than it was before. It is done in a greenish Tufa stone and includes the fine details that the original must have featured. Looking at the photos I see that the apartments on top have been extended over the new wing as well, Guess they are recapturing part of the cost of reconstruction by renting it out. As I mentioned, they are resurrecting ancient Rome. From there we went on to see the round temple of Vesta. With all of the prints that I have and with the one I reproduced at Clyde’s it was time to feel the real thing once again. I couldn’t get very close; like almost everything else in Rome that is two or three thousand years old, there is a fence around it now. Sort of sad. It’s great that they are protecting as much as they can but I can remember the days when I could climb on it and that was very cool too. Note: Turns out that I was wrong, and have been wrong all of my life. Who would have thought? I just zoomed in to what I always knew to be the Temple of Vesta. It is not! It is the Temple of Hercules Victor. How embarrassing is that? Great fountain in that piazza, two mermen supporting a large shell or something and the church in the background, it was fantastic.
Now across the street to the Bocca della Verita. What a crowd, obviously poor timing on our part. The line went all the way across the front of the church and it moved very slowly. There was a side benefit to the wait. Our curiosity was peeked by the hand written sign that said the church had relics of the body of Saint Valentine. Seemed appropriate in view of the date. The line moved slowly but we were entertained by the guy outside that was selling some ancient Roman flute-like instrument that looked a lot like an ancient oil lamp. He could play a tune on it but nobody else could and they were selling like hotcakes to a group of students. As we neared the front of the line an Italian family reached the Bocca. The husband stuck his hand in and screamed bloody murder or something because at that second I was watching his wife and she almost had a heart attack. He really scared the shit out of her, very entertaining. So we arrived at the front of the line. I got a picture of the Bocca by itself so that I have a good photo for when I make one for my own yard and we now have photos of each of us with our hands in the mouth, very touristy but fun.
We then proceeded into the church which is much like so many other ones in Rome except that they had this side altar and above it was a glass and gold box with a scull and some bones in it. All that is left of Saint Valentine. Extremely morbid, but a real crowd pleaser I’m sure and it gets the crowds into the church. As we walked across the street and looked back we saw that they were closing the church and locking out the crowds. We had made it just in time to see the Bocca. I could not have left Rome without seeing that. Well, from there back to the bus stop just down the hill from the teatro Marcello and back home to Beatrice and Renzo.
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