Rome. Part One.

Listening to Test Match Special on the radio this morning - one of those little bantering sessions they have in the box revealed that one of the commentators had just come back from a mini-break in Rome. There wasn't a lot happening in the match, (first morning of the final test against Australia in the Ashes - which England have already won), so, the city of Rome received a little air time. When the commentator was asked by his cohort what he did whilst he was there, one of his answers was that he had visited the Parthenon.

I visited Rome last year, and I pretty much saw everything that you're supposed to see on a first visit - and yes, I remembered visiting somewhere that sounded like that - but not quite like that. To be fair, whilst I contemplated the word, allowed it to swirl around my mouth, weighed it, analysed it, try to picture it in my mind, a correction was given on air, (probably via a more sophisticated traveller-producer through an an ear piece), together with additional information. The Pantheon of course is where he meant. Built by Augustus as a consecrated temple to the gods,with Hadrian (The Wall) picking up the pieces - perhaps literally -  during the latter stages (these things take time). The Parthenon, a few hundreds of miles away in Athens, Greece is  a grand building  in its own right, but not to be added to any Rome visit itinerary.

This little dispute did two things to me.  First, I was annoyed that I didn't pick up the error straightaway given that I only visited Rome two years ago, coupled with the fact that that I am due to visit Athens in less than 3 weeks. Also, I wondered, why haven't I done a piece on Rome, one of the best city breaks I've ever been on. So thank you TMS for the reminder.

It took a while for Rome to wiggle its way to the top of our travelling agenda. It's odd that I allowed world class destinations like Rome, Paris and New York to fall behind our wish list of destinations with Tallinn, Prague and San Francisco all of which somehow managed to elbow their way to the top of the list, are now 'done' so to speak.  I'm still yet to visit Paris, Berlin, Tokyo and Sydney and only went to New York very recently. Perhaps there's a sense of deferred gratification  in the holiday selection process which is an unconscious way of enhancing the experience - a bit like leaving the most interesting looking pressies under the tree on Christmas morning and choosing the also-ran, thinly-wrapped or easily-guessable examples first. In this, as in life, it's often tempting to draw the important things out slowly - the savoring process showing itself to be at least as important as the highlight.  So maybe it's no wonder that I went to Florence before Venice, LA before New York, Munich before Berlin, Granada before Madrid, and so on;  and no real wonder why it took so long for me to get to Rome.

Rome.  Even the place we stayed in was interesting.  St Peter's Six, an old building converted into half a dozen luxury suites half way along the via della conciliaazione - a road of classical buildings that lead all the way to the Pope's front door. These apartments once provided accommodation for Vatican nuns and as such is so close to the papal city you can almost feel the thrumming waves of dedication and prayer rippling from the palace areas of worship through the huge 15th Century portico that served as our front door for us and the other guests - all six of them.

Certainly we could hear the St Peter's basilica bells being rung whilst having breakfast, which reminded us -  if we needed a reminder, to preserve the Vatican on our visit list  And that's the thing about Rome - its like there's two of them: the Rome of the Ancient Romans - the Colosseum, the remnants of the city, the ubiquitous columns and god like sculptures; and the Rome of the Italian Renaissance period with its own historical grandeur.  It's as if they are locked together in an eternal tussle to show visitors they are the main reason for coming to Rome. Throw in a commercially vibrant medieval city of huge charm that has elements of every age as you walk through it, and there's a third player in town.

It's because of these historically and culturally disparate strands that it's sometimes difficult to imagine what you're going to be faced with when you get to Rome. Better just to flop at the nearest cafe and gather your thoughts before planning your day - and  then, whether you know it or not, you've already started. The ancient Romans and the Renaissance are two historical titans and they're both in town.  In the red corner the team captain for the ancients: Julius Caesar, and in the blue, Michelangelo - split by a few thousand years and the river Tiber. In the middle of this spectacle: a medieval cobblestone series of corridors housing the best alfresco eateries and drinking holes. Through this grid work each path leads to yet another square, with every one of them exhibiting something of renown. Every square good enough to be known as 'The Square' any other city in the world. 

Nestled in Rome's squares are monuments that appear in every tourist guide book of Rome ever written. And you stumble into them almost accidentally. As you wander into these squares - you can't help it -  every one of them has at least one fountain that resembles the sort of cloud lands we imagine we end up on when we're dead. People cluster around them, drawn to photograph them from every angle. The Trevi is the most impressive of them all -  it's so busy there you can hardly get a look in. All around it people can be seen wetting themselves or emitting the contents of their stomachs whilst striking louche poses for the camera. And the sculptured figures are nice to look at too. A three dimensional fresco of extraordinary imagination. plop a coin in the water on your way out, ideally over your shoulder trying not to hit yet another photograph poser plumb in the face, and one day you'll return to Rome they say.

A week or so after we left Rome, one of the statues crumbled and plopped into the water. I can imagine the scene; everyone looking around innocently wide-eyed with vicarious guilt -  as if too close to a collapsing pyramid of baked beans in their local Tesco, half  believing the ghost of Jeremy Beadle was lurking around  dressed like Lurcio from Up Pompei.  The stricken figure must have been inching itself forward for its impromptu dive very slightly all the time we were there, until balancing so precariously the beat of a bluebottle's wings might have been enough to unseat it.

The Pantheon can also be found during your wanderings from square to square (not the Parthenon - that's in Greece,). If it rains when you get there it's no good going in to keep dry because there's a hole in the roof the size of a science fiction time portal. This is a design style that would never catch on in the UK. The Spanish Steps are pretty - though I'm not sure it would get a top billing if it wasn't  for the film  Roman Holiday, though try as I might I couldn't find any sign that Gregory Peck and Audrey Hepburn  were ever around.  And I couldn't really be bothered to look for the saturnine visage of  La Bocca Della Veriata or The Mouth of Truth, if indeed the tall bell towered church of the Santa Maria in Cosmedin  is anywhere near there. We ran out of time so that's one place I will try to get to next time. The list of places, like all really good cities, is virtually endless, so it's no surprise to me that we don't ever get to half of them.

I have to say the Colosseum - which is bit of a walk away from the centre, was for me a little a bit of an anti-climax.  You can't really go to Rome and not go there. It's one of those places that represents a 'I suppose I must go' response.  None of us wants to sound foolish when we return home from Rome to face the inevitable question, ' what did you think of the Colosseum?' Only to be forced to reply, 'the where? Oh the Colosseum!  No we decided not to bother.' No one wants to do that, so you go. But in truth, it's a bit boring. A huge ring of ancient concrete lumps cemented together with a void in the middle that looks a bit like London in the aftermath of the Blitz. The structure itself appears to have been repaired, renovated and restructured over and over again making it the Roman version of HMS Victory - this bit was altered in 1798 after a student on a Grand Tour, drunk on porter, fell into the arena; these bricks were fired and brought in from Tuscany due to bomb damage sustained during the war; these columns were made by Sicilian craftsman in the 1970s and shipped in to replace the originals that were eroding and proving a concern to health and safety officials.  That kind of rubbish.  Once I hear stories of authorities messing around with authenticity, my concentration quickly goes and I start dreaming of my next double espresso/cappuccino/latte which you can only get once you've left the building/structure/thing. And I was happy to leave pretty soon after I arrived.   It's a great canker, a solid blot in what is an otherwise a dreamy city. For me any way.

I enjoyed the remains of the old Roman City. It was possible to lose yourself amid the real history of the place - but I was already thinking about the Vatican.  Ever since our arrival I couldn't stop thinking about it. I really wanted to visit the Sistine Chapel.  Although I'm not really religious, I'd  become obsessed with the whole Vatican thing due to its proximity to our apartment. The bells ringing probably had a lot to do with it. The more I thought about it, particularly the chapel, the more I wanted to see it - even though everyone said you might have to queue half a day to get in. And even then you'll have to walk through it in silence before being ushered out by Vatican bouncers who treat you as if you're infected with the Bubonic Plague. Undeterred we left it to last - another example of that deferred gratification thing I guess - and  for me it would prove the highlight of the trip.

To be continued...