I’m in Rome!
The transfer between the Perugia and the Rome apartment went surprisingly smoothly; we navigated the train and the Roman bus system like old hands, and found our landlady’s apartment quickly. Then, we hit some choppy waters. Our apartment is in a fabulous location, on a fairly quiet street just blocks from the center of Trastevere, the very neighborhood we wanted to be in. We are close to the Ancient part of Rome, the centro, and an easy block to the Vatican. And, our landlady, Sabrina, seems to be one of the nicest and most patient souls on earth.
So far, so good. But, the apartment was advertised as a one bedroom, with the living space on the ground floor and the bedroom in the basement. As odd as it sounds, the basement was a selling point for us. We figured it would be quieter, and it is a cool looking space, with an uneven medieval brick ceiling. When we arrived, we discovered that the basement is uninhabitably damp. It reeks of mold, and the landlady had rearranged the apartment into a studio (telling us that we can use the basement room as much as we want. To do what? Grow mushrooms?) The apartment is beautifully decorated, very Italian modern chic, and would be perfectly spacious as a one bedroom, but as a studio, it is piccolo piccolo. And, somehow, I wasn’t picturing quite so literally a street level apartment. The door is straight onto the street, as are the only three windows. It is a quiet street, but not that quiet, and every car that goes by, every conversation, we are right there. Jeremy and I were sitting on the bed last night eating strawberries, and I felt like we were some sort of Amsterdam window display.
And then there is the saga of the internet. The apartment was promised with internet, and I believe Sabrina bought a DSL hub especially for us. If only it worked. She and Jeremy spent hours Sunday trying to get it to work. She spent so much time on the phone with Vodafone on Monday that she killed her battery. She has been determined and tireless, patient and good humored. Finally, this morning, Vodafone admitted that there has been an outage in Trastevere DSL for a while now, which Jeremy suspects means that they have never gotten it working. So, he and Sabrina jury-rigged and internet key that works just outside the apartment, or if we run a cable up to a window. Jeremy is, in fact, sitting out front, on the street, writing code and looking incredibly Roman. Since half the street is doing the same thing (the other half is hanging out their window talking on their cellphones), he fits right in. And, it lets him keep an eye on our laundry, because there is no room for a rack of clothing inside!
Rome still has mosquitoes, even though it is October. I am being eaten alive, since it never occurred to me to bring bug spray. If I’m going to die of malaria in Rome, shouldn’t I at least have an awakening to the joy of a liberated life, one outside the strict confines of American decency? That sounds like fun and all, but for my life to get any more liberated, I would have to start taking opium, or having multiple lovers, or some such nonsense. So, all in all, I think I will skip both the liberation and the malaria, please.
And yet, and yet, and yet. I am so amazingly, stunningly, wonderfully happy to be here. I’m going to risk joining the hordes of bad writers writing bad prose about the magic of the eternal city for a while, because there really is something about being here that makes my heart sing. I remember the first time I was in Florence, and I stepped out of the hotel, turned a corner, and there, perfectly framed by the street, was the dome of the Duomo. It felt both unreal and surreal to be looking at the three dimensional reality of an image I had seen my whole life, or at least since Art 101. That feeling happens here all the time, and instead of seeing the Duomo or Palazzo Vecchio, you are seeing the Coliseum, the Spanish Steps, St. Peters, and on, and on, and on. Plus, the streets tend to be wider and the city generally more open than Florence, so you get far more of those views. It makes walking to buy milk feel like a pivotal scene in a live-celebrating movie.
Jeremy and I have been walking since we arrived. We walked to the top of Giancolo hill, to the Spanish steps, to the Pantheon – which is so big – through the shopping districts. Today, we did the Capitoline Museum, which is also really big. Good sculpture, bad paintings, great spot for lunch on the third floor terrace. We haven’t yet done any particularly noteworthy eating, although I have discovered that our apartment is in between the enormous market at Campo di Fiori and a smaller, more used market here in Trastevere. I went to the later yesterday, and it was about half open (because it was Monday, I suspect), but it was still big enough to get some zucchini romanesco (like zucchini fiorentini, but slightly firmer and a touch less sweet) and some pesto for dinner. Tonight, we are planning on going aperitivo hopping.
And now, I have to go outside to upload this entry.
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