Ancient monuments like the Colosseum tower over you--but you dare not look up for long as you amble around Rome--there are giant excavations everywhere. Inside those holes are likely to be seen remnants of even more ancient layers of this confounding city.
When I first visited Rome in the 70's I didn't get it--Rome seemed a third-world stopover, like maybe Managua, albeit with ancient ruins sprouting everwhere, like weedy skeletons from an incomprehensible underworld. Everywhere there were gypsies, whores, schemers and taxi drivers from hell. Busses plied the narrow streets belching thick smoke that covered the monuments in oily black. And they all took off noisily at 6 in the morning from under my hotel room window. Like a nasty mother-in-law, my jet lag stayed with me way too long under such trying conditions.
Then I discovered the secret of Rome. You have to join in; you have to stop thinking of the mundane all the time; you have to empty your mind and let Rome soak into you like whiskey into fruitcake. The right attitude is key. Life here is a raucous fight for survival in which the most clever schemer wins--or at least comes out of it with the most wine. Open your eyes wide as you wander away from Termini station down narrow streets alive with screeching tires and horns toward quiet pedestrian walkways lined with shops and wine bars. Life is better in the shadows. Felini got it right. You'll still see the evidence of Rome's southern heritage, that blustery, hand waving exercise in argumentative futility still practiced in bars and cafes, but it's all part of the texture of a city as different from Florence as it is from Bagdad.
Where else would the airport traffic wardens have a job so impossible that they'd try reversing their strategy? Get this: instead of always giving tickets to recalcitrant motorists, they're giving out "a congratulation record to anyone being correct and respectful of the traffic regulations."
Ok, maybe they're doing this to cut down on the work load. I suspect they only give out a couple of these a day. This is Rome you know.
And speaking of the airport, what airport has been the site of hundreds of movies in its 40 years of business? Think of Leonardo da Vinci. His airport.
And where else would people eat pasta alla putanesca--whore's pasta--with such relish? Or Agnello Scottadito, the tiny rib chops of lamb grilled hot enough to burn your fingers like the name suggests? Who in a sophisticated city restaurant picks up the lamb in their fingers, anyway? Romans, the whole, crazy lot of 'em.
Gawd, I love this city!
Where else can you plunge yourself into the Renaissance by taking a short walk that includes the Trevi Fountain, the Piazza Navona, and the Pantheon, then tell your partner you love her before sticking your hand into the bocca della verita, the "mouth of the truth" that is, in reality, just an old roman sewer cover now mortared into a wall of a medieval church. (Good luck, by the way, if you try. If you've lied it will reputedly chomp your hand off.)
Step out into the sunshine again and around you will be nooks and crannies filled with the wildest imaginable treasures, some ancient, some merely interesting.
Rome has been gussied up since the millenium. The grime is gone and even Termini has been made a bit safer for tourists. It's time to try Rome again. You can plan your own Roman excursion using the resources in the linkbox on the upper right.
It's wild, this city. And it's been even wilder since 1997,when the zoological Gardens of Rome got transformed into a Biopark. Read on by clicking next.
