Saturday, June 19, 2004
American women
In the morning, Tim and I went to Villa Borghese, a public park located north of the city center. On this cloudy Saturday, there was a smattering of families and picnicking couples. Then we went inside the building that the park is named after, which is now an art museum. The lower floor is devoted to sculpture; its famous works consist mostly of Berninis. The upper floor houses paintings, including some Caravaggios.
City wall outside Villa Borghese
In the late afternoon, we left Villa Borghese and walked to the Via Veneto district. We visited a church called Santa Maria della Vittoria, which has a spectactular Bernini sculpture, The Ecstasy of St. Teresa. At this church we met an American tourist named Shira. A recent graduate of Columbia, she was the first American we had met on our trip. She was travelling with two friends, but they had decided to go their separate ways for the day. The three of us did a little more sightseeing together. We walked to the Palazzo del Quirinale, the presidential palace, and got there in time for the changing of the guard. There was a good-sized crowd gathered there to watch the cermony.
"I love a man in uniform!"
After it was over we walked ahead to the Trevi Fountain. I think Trevi is Italian for "tourist city". We plowed through the crowds there, went to the edge of the water, threw coins over our shoulders (which, by legend, means you'll come back to Rome again) and got the heck out of there.
Trevi Fountain
Tourist city
From the fountain, we went to the Spanish Steps, which were so crowded that we didn't bother to sit down. Then we then strolled down Via Condotti, a ritzy lane lined with the most fashionable of boutiques (e.g. Dolce & Gabbana, Prada).
 Spanish Steps |
 Via Condotti |
Via del Corso and Via Condotti
We couldn't get enough of the crowds, so we headed for a second time to Piazza Navona. When we got there, Shira mentioned that she came here a couple of days ago, during the Miss Italia 2004 event. She spoke of the skimpily clad girls in a disapproving tone, but even worse, she opined, were some men who walked up to within feet of them. She cried, "You could totally tell these losers were taking their picture, because they were stupid enough to leave the display on. I'm sure I saw T and A on their cameras!" I shook my head and curled my lips. Tim had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing.
As we left the piazza, I spotted the statue man who was out of work two days ago. Wthout a bevy of half-naked women to compete with this time, he was performing, and from the look of his money jar, he was doing quite well.
We seemed to retrace the route from the first night, because we went back to Le Teste Matte, the bar at Piazza Campo de Fiori. Shira was supposed to meet her friends for dinner, and she invited Tim and me to join them. We went along. After walking around for some time, we found a decent restaurant in Trastevere. During the meal, Tim and I learned that the girls were traveling through Europe for a month for a post-graduation celebration. After dinner, the waiter handed us the check, and as he did this he made an unusual comment. "You boys are lucky," he whispered in passable English to Tim and me. "You have these beautiful women with you. (He was very flattering.) And you," he said to the girls and gestured at me, "you like the Oriental fashion!" "Oh, am I the fashion in Italy?" I asked wearily. (I had not noticed mobs of gorgeous women chasing me through the city.) He ignored me and winked at a waitress, who was giggling at his bravado.
Tim and I and our new friends spent the rest of the night at Piazza Campo de Fiori. The plaza was hopping. I liked the fact that on a weekend night, Romans get dolled up and just hang out in public spaces (I wish that happened in American cities, too). We looked around for a place to sit, but the terrace bars and benches were all full. We ordered beers from a walk-up window (you can buy drinks from these kinds of bars and consume them outside) and found some risers to sit on. Our perch was a prime piece of people-watching real estate, but alas, there would be no ogling that night. I felt obliged to converse with the friend of Shira that I was sitting next to (who was especially chatty).
I liked Rome. It has enough sights to last for a year, and it is even more vibrant than Barcelona. I sensed a certain distance from the locals, though, that I did not feel in Barcelona, which is understandable because I do not speak Italian and did not know any locals in Rome. I observed, though, that the locals are generally friendly to each other. For my next visit, perhaps it would be wise to do as the Romans do — that is, learn the language and meet the locals.
