Landscapes/Cityscapes: Rome, Finally!

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Cityscapes

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Tangible Discoveries
by Jackie Goyette

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Rome, Finally!
by Eric McElroy

It was my second trip to Italy, and this time I had to see Rome. Ever since I returned from my first trip, I never heard the end of it. “You went to Italy, but you didn’t go to Rome?” everyone asked. It didn't help that I had many friends who were originally from Rome. I felt I had almost let them down, and this time, the trip to Rome was more about an obligation to fulfill than a strong desire to see the Eternal City.

I was not looking forward to the trip. Everything I had heard about Rome was mediocre at best. “The first few times I went, I didn’t like it,” some said. Other friends even said they hated it. They told me stories of the lack of public restrooms, rude people, lots of traffic, and long crowds to see the attractions. Needless-to-say, my expectations of Rome weren’t high. But I had to go. I tried to look on the bright side: after all, Rome has a lot of history... and I had heard the food isn’t bad either!

After a few days of touring Italy, Corrie, Jackie, and I arrived at the Termini in Rome in the late morning. The first thing we did was take the metro so we could dump our luggage off at the hotel. The crowds were overwhelming, and it was difficult to maneuver on and off the metro. Problems were compounded by the fact that, initially, we were going in the opposite direction. That meant another train change: off and on again. After we found the correct stop, we emerged from below ground to find a busy intersection, lots of horns blowing, and the seemingly constant sound of an ambulance siren. “Yeah, this is how I want to spend the next two days; fighting traffic and trying to decipher the local map,” I thought.

A few more wrong turns and we finally arrived at our hotel. It was a convent run by the nuns of San Giuseppe della Montagna. They didn’t speak English, but they seemed to know how to clean a hotel room, because it was the cleanest room I had seen thus far in Italy. It was a welcome relief, just coming from Milan, where we must have stayed in the dirtiest hotel in Italy. A quick drop of the luggage and we were off to the Vatican, the first sightseeing stop on our Roman Holiday.

We arrived from the north. As we entered the Piazza di San Pietro, I was immediately struck by the immensity of the square. Hundreds of colonnades framed a circular, cobblestone piazza. Atop every colonnade was a different saint, each in a different pose. It gave a life to the square, as if the saints were meeting to discuss important church matters. My awe at the vastness of the piazza was only interrupted by my amazement of the basilica itself. As large as a city block, it is the largest church in Europe, crowned with a beautiful, decorative dome designed by Michelangelo.

Inside, every corner hid a treasure. The Pietà, sculpted by Michelangelo when he was just 25 years old, stood to the right as you entered the church. It is such a masterpiece that even the most ardent philistine would stare gape-mouthed at its sheer beauty. Around we went, visiting the basilica, greeting dead saints that we met along the way. A quick rub of St Peter’s foot for luck, a moment of silence at his grave, and we were on our way to dinner. We decided to find a nice trattoria in Trastevere, an ancient neighborhood on Rome's south side. After a dinner and a full stomach, I smiled to myself. At least so far my initial hopes about good Roman food were coming true.

Together we saw an open door, and with a silent agreement, both of us decided to continue our climb, if only to see where we would end up.

The next day, we toured the ruins of the ancient city. I was excited. We were going to see temples built by the ancients. Traveling down the Via dei Fori Imperiali, we could see the Colosseum from a long way off. The enormity of the stadium struck me. 50,000 spectators could enter and leave in 15 minutes. My thoughts turned to the last Indy 500 I attended; it took two hours for me to get home. Those Romans really were geniuses.

As we entered the ruins, the first thing I noticed was the fitting name. Everything was ruined. Julius Caesar’s forum was on our right. Hardly anything was left of the Temple of Venus: only three small columns, topped by a small piece of the frieze. There were only a small number of intact buildings. Of course I had left my guide in the hotel, so for the most part, I had no idea what I was looking at. I took picture after picture, hoping I would be able to decipher the mess of buildings back in the states.

Luckily, research and good photographs would pay off, and upon returning home to Indianapolis, I would be able to make some sense of the numerous Roman images. The curia, for example, was one of the best-preserved buildings in the forum. It was the seat of the Roman Senate, and the place for discussions and voting. Just outside is the Lapis Niger, the area that marks the tomb of Romulus, the founder of Rome. In front of the Curia was where Julius Caesar was assassinated. Across the square is the Temple of the Deified Caesar, the site of Julius Caesar's funeral pyre. We happened to be there exactly 2,048 years after his death. Fresh flowers were laid on the site of the funeral pyre, remembering so many years ago.

As we exited the Forum, I noticed a small path to my left. Corrie suggested we take the path just to see where it went. It seemed to wind through an arrangement of manicured gardens. Even in early March, everything was so green--just coming to life. The sweet fragrance of the flowers beginning to bloom could already be faintly detected. As we followed the path, it was obvious that we were gradually climbing a hill. Eager to reach the top, we passed by other tourists who seemed to take no notice of us. Upon reaching the top, we saw a beautiful 18th century building painted in a faded yellow. Together we saw an open door, and with a silent agreement, both of us decided to continue our climb, if only to see where we would end up.

We were not disappointed. At the top of the stairs, in a small room and past a small bar, we found ourselves on the rooftop of a building on the Campidoglio, Rome's own Capitol Hill. Our trek was rewarded with a breathtaking view over Rome. The sun was just setting and the pinks and yellows illuminated the trees on the top of a far off hill. Twenty, thirty domes could be counted; countless roofs of numberless houses could be seen. Together they reflected the oranges and reds that reminded me of the warmth of the sun itself. Much like ones feels the embrace of the sun, I felt this was Rome embracing my friends and me.

After all I had been told to expect from Rome--the endless lines of traffic, the noise of every day big city life, the rude people, the herds of tourists randomly roaming the city, and the dirtiness of thousands of years of history--I took a totally different opinion of the city home with me. The sheer beauty of the city itself, the incredible masterpieces of art, some of the best dinners with friends that I could ever hope to have, and a tangible look at history made Rome something I had never expected: a city that I readily embrace.