Forza Italia!

Two hours waiting for my bag to make its way, somewhat reluctantly it seemed, from the plane which had brought me to Rome to the carousel where I had patiently been waiting. Well, actually that is not strictly true; when it finally did arrive it was on an altogether different carousel. And this, might I add, was in Leonardo Da Vinci airport. I imagine that old Leonardo wouldn’t be too pleased to put his name to such poor service were he alive today. The reason it took so long for my bag, and indeed the bags of a handful of fellow travellers, to arrive, may go someway to explaining why Rome used to be the capital of the world, and is now just another European city. I was told, and this is as close to a direct quote as my memory will allow, that “Is Friday, busy day. August, many people travel” Call me naïve about the running of an airport, but surely travellers are expected? To be fair to the Italians though, they didn’t lose my bag – look and learn Manchester. Part of me couldn’t help but feel that Rome hadn’t progressed much over the last couple of Millennia; Viaducts and central heating to this - no wonder the empire crumbled! Anyway, moving on to the city itself. Rome, once the centre of the world, the heart of one of the world’s greatest civilisations, the home of the Pope (more or less) and the destination for my second visit to Italy.

A running theme of my various experiences of my travels is that first impressions are usually best ignored. So, airport ineptitude forgotten I checked in to my hotel and laid my weary head to rest. I will refrain from giving you a blow by blow account of my stay, it follows the well trodden tourist path of many a traveller after all (Coliseum, Forum, Palatine Hill, Pantheon, Vatican etc etc), but I will say this: I wish I could have seen it 2000 years ago. Modern day Rome was a huge disappointment to me, which I’m sure sounds ludicrous. But it was. I think living in Vienna has raised my expectations somewhat, but I expected wide, sweeping boulevards, imposing government buildings, statues on every street corner, amorous couples on scooters and Dean Martin busking in the street. What I found instead was a muddle of old roman buildings, decaying apartment blocks, litter strewn streets and seemingly the whole of France. Admittedly the last one was my fault for visiting in August, when the French (well, the loud annoying ones anyway) go on holiday. Don’t get me wrong, the Roman buildings, monuments and ruins are truly impressive, particularly the Pantheon, but somehow something was missing. It just seems as if the city thinks that because it was the centre of the world two thousand years ago it doesn’t have to do anything else ever again. It has become complacent almost.

Take the Roman ruins for example. The Roman Forum is the site of the original city centre, where all the trade took place, where the temple was, where all the important people resided. Today, save for the temple and a few pillars it is little more than a couple of square miles of ruins. Fair enough, two thousand years is a long time, but no effort has been made to explain what used to be there, no descriptions, no photographic recreations, nothing. You could just wander through and have no idea of the importance the site once held. Unless, like me, you have a decent guide book which fills in all the gaps. It’s the same at the Circus Maximus, the site of numerous chariot races at the height of the Empire. The venue could hold a quarter of a million people in the valley between two of Rome’s seven hills. Now it is little more than waste land, only the bowl like shape of the land giving any hint of its former glories. Incidentally a main road now runs parallel to the Circus Maximus, and I have a sneaky suspicion that the locals pretend they are on a chariot as they hurtle along the cobbled street. Either that, or a touch too much Grappa at lunchtime. I suppose what I’m getting at is that a lot more could be made of these historic sites, because currently, unless you are a bit of a history buff, a lot of the impact is lost as you wander around. Apparently plans are afoot to link all the ancient sites in some kind of Roman Experience, incorporating sites currently under excavation. However, these plans have been kicking around for some time, and you know, its Friday, or August, and many people travel...

Oh, I just realised I didn’t really mention the Pantheon properly. Quite an oversight really. Originally conceived and built in around 27BC the Pantheon was rebuilt in 125AD by Emperor Hadrian, the same bloke who tried in vain to keep the Scots out of England. Essentially the Pantheon is a dome shaped temple, over 40m high, with a circular opening in the roof some 9m across to allow the sunlight to illuminate the walls all day long. Words don’t really do it much justice, nor does the McDonalds opposite the entrance, but it is definitely worth a visit. While I’m feeling positive about Rome I should also mention the Fontana di Trevi, which is hidden away from most of the main sites. I’m no expert on architecture, but my trusty guidebook informs me that the fountain is in the baroque style. I won’t pretend to understand that, but it’s an impressive piece of work. It was constructed on an otherwise bland façade of the Palazzo Poli, and seems to have burst form the wall. The fountain is adorned with statues of various mythical beings, including rather predictably a statue of Neptune, the God of the Sea. There is a tale that if you throw a coin into the fountain you will guarantee your return to Rome, two coins will guarantee a marriage, and three a divorce. Despite being a Yorkshire man I managed to part with a coin, and then returned later that night to retrieve it and a few others. I’m joking of course. Though apparently each day 3000€ lands in the water, so it might not be a bad idea.

The biggest disappointment though was the general state of the buildings, streets and most notably the various squares for which Rome is famous. I appreciate that much of the city is older than my poor northern brain can fathom, and that over the years time takes its toll and nothing remains the same. However, a little bit of effort, to remove the graffiti, to render the façades of certain buildings or to improve the state of the roads, doesn’t seem too much to ask. You could even use the money from the fountain! It sounds like I’m ranting here, and maybe I am, but Rome is essentially the city that gave birth to the modern world as we know it, and I expected a little bit more. Don’t get me wrong, in many ways it is a fabulous city, but it just seems to have a lazy feel about it, a kind of air of unfounded seniority based on past glories. Or maybe my expectations were too high?

Florence on the other hand, is everything I hoped it would be. Narrow alleyways, wide open squares lined with cafés and a ridiculously large cathedral that could conceivably house the entire population of the town. I liked everything about Florence, with one exception. The Uffizi Gallery. Supposedly it houses one of the world’s finest collections of art. Hmmmmm. I for one was less than convinced. There are only so many pictures of “Madonna with Child” that you can look at, and half of the rooms were closed. I admit though that my experience may have been tainted by an argument with a stupid French woman in the queue outside the museum. She seemed to take exception to me, and I might add quite a few other people, pointing out that the long line of people randomly waiting outside the museum in an orderly fashion were queuing to get in, and had been doing so for a number of hours. She was evidently under the impression that you could just loiter near the door and walk in. Not for the first time in my life, and probably not for the last, I took it upon myself to underline my belief that I was right with a well balanced and thought provoking argument, with only minimal use of some of my favourite French words. On the other hand it might just be that I’m not much of an art lover at the best of times. Back to Florence, there’s not much to dislike about the place at all really; not too busy, most of the centre is closed to traffic (except those strange little 3-wheeled vans that look like an inside out robin reliant), plenty to do, good ice cream the list goes on. So, it was with a heavy heart, and heavier rucksack, that I made my way to the train station to board a train for Milan.
Just a little aside given my previous comments on all things transport related in mainland Europe, when I bought my ticket I had three options, ranging from the mildly expensive yet quick Eurocity Train to the cheap but slow Regionale Train. How come in England everything is slow and expensive? A three and a half hour train journey from Florence to Milan cost me about 18 quid, booked the day before I travelled. In England that would probably get me from Leeds to York.

The Italians could teach the Slovaks a thing or two about how to build a train station, and in Milan’s case, about how to close most of it down for refurbishment. The Milanese Underground though, like its Roman counterpart, is not quite so impressive. It reminded me of the many videos I saw in German classes at school about the fall of the Wall. Descending the escalators into the underground is like going back in time, and the trains themselves have a similar feel. I think it’s partly that all the seats are aligned down either side, so you sit facing your fellow travellers, and partly to do with the bars over the windows, presumably to prevent anybody from “accidentally” falling out. Altogether a rather strange experience. Cheap though, 1€ for a single journey, which puts the London Underground to shame.

I liked Milan immediately, there were the wide, sweeping boulevards I had expected in Rome, young couples on scooters everywhere I looked, a cathedral even more ridiculous in size than the one in Florence, and when I arrived on a Friday evening the streets were quiet, the town was peaceful and strolling around humming Volare to myself was an altogether pleasant experience. I realised later that most of the population were at the nearby San Siro stadium watching AC Milan take on local-ish rivals Juventus, which probably explained the quiet streets. Oh, and of course it was still August, and a Friday, so everyone else was probably waiting for their luggage in Rome.

While I remember, the toilets in Italy are worth a mention too. If you have ever been to France you will know what is coming here. It is fairly common to find what the French call “Toilettes Turcs” in many cafes and bars. In layman’s terms, a Toilette Turc is little more than a hole in the ground. No matter how long I spend abroad I think it is one thing that will always surprise and confuse me. What is wrong with a standard toilet? I can only imagine how American or Japanese tourists react (because I have never been to the toilet with them obviously). It also reminds me of a little joke a Swiss person once told me about the French. Why do the French say Les Toilettes, whereas the Swiss say La Toilette? Because in France you have to go to a few before you find a clean one!


More to come shortly…..

Ciao for now