Arrivederci, Roma (Rome)

Member Name: Nibelung

Product:	Rome
Date:	25/02/07 (185 review reads)
Rating:

Advantages: Plenty to see (and eat!)

Disadvantages: Expensive, queuing for attractions, mecca for petty theft.

You don’t so much come home from Rome, as survive to tell the tale, at least that’s how I feel.

That’s not to say the spending five days there was unpleasant, but on balance I’m not making any immediate plans to go back. It soon becomes plain that this is a city of contrasting ‘ations’; that’s exhilaration, consternation, fascination and frustration. Just about the only ‘ation’ it’s guaranteed NOT to give you is ‘constip‘!

It was school half term last week, and so with both of us involved in education to one degree or another, the spring half term seemed an ideal opportunity to take a break, and so we found ourselves in the Italian capital with Sunday evening and four more whole days to spend as we wished.

Having never been before, in fact I’ve precious little experience of Italy in general, it was of course preordained that such sights as The Colosseum and The Vatican City would be on our agenda, and if we could throw in The Trevi Fountain and The Spanish Steps for good measure, so much the better.

GETTING THERE

For once this was the easy bit, which perhaps augurs well for 2007, compared to the kind of 2006 I had, air travel wise.

I still get a kick out of ‘only’ having to get a minicab to our local station and then travel four stops on the Sillybilly Line before flying somewhere. Let’s face it, there aren’t many advantages to living near Heathrow, but this is one of them!

Damn me, the plane even left on time – in fact it was so ‘on time’ that we were standing at the end of the runway 27L, engines straining, but held on the brakes until the actual second we were due away.

The flight from London to Roma Fiumicino takes around two hours, and like other airlines, Alitalia has sensibly stopped trying to pretend they can supply a real meal in those plastic trays, preferring now to dispense drinks and a picnic box. At least I’ve stopped getting off planes with gravy down my shirt!

Getting into Rome is pretty easy too. €11 gets you a one-way non-stop train ride called the Leonardo Express to Roma Termini, which, not surprisingly is Rome’s main terminus station. This is scheduled to cover around 20-odd miles in 31 minutes, so non-stop it might be, an ‘express’ it isn’t. Beware – the area around Termini is akin to London’s King’s Cross, i.e. a bit of a dump these days, complete with ‘unofficial taxi drivers’ and several other varieties of rip-off merchants. It’s also the nexus of Rome’s two main Metro lines (La Metropolitana), which I’ll deal with later.

Fortunately, our hotel was only a 10 minute walk away, having brought wheeled cases so we forewent the delights (?) of a Metro or cab ride and hoofed it. This doesn’t stop you getting offers you CAN refuse, and you do have to make sure you’ve got your pockets zipped when you’ve only one hand free.

This walk immediately puts you into conflict with two or three of Rome’s less appealing qualities –

a) The state of the pavements – apparently it’s not just Rome that was built on seven hills but each metre of pavement has come out in a kind of miniature sympathy. For goodness sake bring sensible walking shoes, hiking-trainers or whatever; you’ll be glad to did.

b) Rome’s two- and four-wheeled road users will park anywhere and even if it is against the law, no-one seems to care. This includes draped around street corners and obliterating pedestrian crossings, leaving the unsuspecting luggage-towing pedestrian nowhere to regain the kerb having just survived their first road crossing. In the end I stopped worrying about scratching anyone’s car, and dragged the case through with brute force. Oh for opportunity to reinvent the scythes on Boudicca’s chariot and give these Romans a taste of English steel! Oh yes, and don’t bring any luggage you’re proud of. After all, when in Rome………

c) Like many cities other than London, there are a lot of apartment-dwellers in Rome, all with dogs and seemingly nowhere to exercise them. Need I go on? Just be careful not only where you put your feet, but the wheels of your luggage also.

Luckily for us, these first impressions weren’t entirely exemplary of Rome, but they do stick in the memory as its least endearing feature. The hotel, by contrast was rather a nice little place called Hotel Novecento (Hotel 900) near the currently-closed Manzoni Metro stop, although this to could have done with a bit more attention to detail. I don’t expect to have to find out why the mini-bar has become a tepid cupboard for myself (the maid had caught the hidden lead with the vacuum cleaner) and a bit of the skirting board fell off but hey ho, if you haven’t got a sense of humour, don’t travel.

At least by the end of the week, my pronunciation of ‘duecentoquattro’ was positively Roman when asking for the key to room 204. It seems that in Rome the more normal ‘chento’ becomes ‘shento’ when pronouncing ‘cento’ – either that or there’s a citywide shortage of denture fixative. At least this was a quiet quarter of town, and our rearward position made a good night’s sleep eminently possible even though we were right next to the lift shaft. The hotel wasn’t full anyway and there were only four rooms to a floor.

Breakfast was the usual lack-lustre array of cheese slices, salami and rolls, yoghurts and jams. Oh yes and why is it that wherever you go in citrus-growing countries that they STILL insist on serving that sweetened ‘nectar’ muck that’s just about one cut above cheap orange squash. At least Tescos supply reconstituted concentrate of actual orange juice. Surprisingly, the coffee wasn’t at all bad.

Anyway, daggers away Chris, the staff were very nice, if constantly changing, so in five days we saw a different desk clerk every time we went out and came back.

STUFF TO SEE

a) Well, I guess it would have to be The Colosseum first. This too was only a short walk away, even allowing for the time spent crossing the road immediately in front of this amazing structure. Yet another ‘green man’ beckons you across the first half of a dual carriageway, only to have the trail go cold and be left on your own, quite literally for minutes waiting to perform the next bit without a safety net.

My advice would be: pre-book your ticket for the Colosseum in the UK from the www.tikitaly.com web-site opting to arrive as early as you can – this enables you to go straight to the ‘gruppi/preordinato’ window and gain entry before hoards of Japanese tourists start blocking the view to have their pictures taken in front of just about anything that doesn’t move. It does not however entitle you to a guided tour, which personally I find tiresome anyway. If you want one, the good news is that the guides don’t shout any more – they just give you a tiny one-way radio and he/she speaks into a mike on their transmitter.

The Colosseum can be a bit of a let down if you were expecting to see something with an arena floor – it rotted hundreds of years ago, leaving you to imagine chariot races and gladiatorial combat floating above a labyrinth of cellars and holding pens. It doesn’t help that once such spectacles were cancelled by the newly-converted Christian emperors, The Colosseum was systematically asset-stripped of its marble seating for use elsewhere leaving only what appears to be rough concrete slopes (yes, the Romans used it) where once the crowd thronged, know doubt booing and hissing and baying for blood. Likewise, the fact that Italy is in a seismic region hasn’t helped with the structural integrity of what’s left, much of it having been shored up in the 19th century with massive brick buttresses.

The sheer size of the place is what still impresses, coupled with the fact that blocks and tackles, combined with a seemingly inexhaustible supply of slave labour is all they had to build such a tall structure. Of course, the HSE would have closed the site down before you could say ‘Thumbs Down’.

I’ve seen the much more intact Roman arena at El Djem in Tunisia which is so intact, seats, floors and all, that it was used to make the movie ‘Gladiator’ – but this place is ‘the one’ they all want to see, at Empire HQ as it were.

Right next to the arena is the almost pristine Constantine Arch, and just a stone’s throw away lays a large part of what’s left of ancient Rome including the forum.

If you really want to make your whole visit as ‘kiss me quick’ and as tacky as possible, why not pay to dress up as a centurion complete with trainers and bum-bag, this being very popular on your way back out?

They say ‘See Rome and Die’ but don’t do it as you cross the road leaving the place eh?

Those ambulances you hear about every 45 seconds don’t have their sirens on for fun!

b) The Vatican City would, I suppose figure highly on many people’s agenda. Again, get there VERY early and have your tickets to the Vatican Museums pre-booked. This entitles you to ‘guided entry’ although not necessarily a guided tour. However, as you squeeze past all the poor souls trapped at the speed of their slowest fellow tourist, you can catch snippets of what’s being said. The one place that’s kept quiet is the famous Cistine Chapel, which comes as a welcome chance to sit down and just gawp in awe at the ceiling. Here, you really can imagine a grumpy Michaelangelo lying on his back atop ricketty scaffolding, with two feet of headroom, ever mindful of the fact that he had so many hours to complete the ‘bit’ around him before the new plaster set.

There’s not a lot to see in The Vatican Library except the magnificent ornate corridors that go on seemingly for ever, as all the cupboards are closed – either that or the Vatican’s got a chronic problem with people not bringing their books back!

The curious thing about this tour is that is does not lead you anywhere near St. Peter’s itself. This is subject to a separate entry from St. Peter’s Square – we really need a new translation into English for ‘piazza’, especially since this one is oval!

Making your way to the latter from the museums makes you mighty glad you came early, as the queue for the former is now about a mile long by 11.00 am (and that’s in February!) – expect to have to walk in the road as those queuing don’t seem to have grasped the concept of pavements being for two-way traffic.

We didn’t go into the Cathedral, as we just didn’t want to queue any more, but the sheer breadth of the Piazza takes your breath away. In reality, I don’t suppose that the dome of St. Peter’s is much bigger than that of our own St. Paul’s, but of course, in London, there’s nowhere to stand back four hundred yards to admire it with such an unbroken view, framed as St. Peter’s is on both sides by a magnificent curving colonnade.

Someone we got into conversation with one evening told us that if we’d been there the day before, we’d have seen the Pope – I dunno, you wait all your life for a Pope, and then when your back is turned, one comes along!

c) The Trevi Fountain was another of our ‘rubber-necking’ jaunts. To be honest, I was expecting it to be really tacky, like Trafalgar Square’s fountains on New Year’s Eve, but it was all quite orderly, owing partly to the time of year I suppose. Police were keeping spectators behind barriers, so no-one could ruin the view by sitting on the edge to have their photo for the folks back home in Osaka taken at everyone else’s expense. This exclusion also meant that those trying to heft lucky coins over their shoulders into the fountain had to aim rather well!

To the uninitiated, the fountains are sculpted to look like they are coming out of a cliff face, when in fact they emanate from the bottom of a building – despite the crowds, I found this quite a peaceful experience away from traffic. The surrounding roads are largely pedestrianised except for access.

On the same perambulation, we took in The Spanish Steps, which are as you’d expect a large wide staircase tackling one of Rome’s many hill sides. This is a favourite place for back-packers and other walkers to sit and picnic so don’t expect to get a deserted shot – those post cards are either touched up or shot a 4.00 am in summer!

Just at one end of the very posh Via Veneto, we entered the church of Santa Maria della Concezione, which is a huge ‘ordinary’ church like many of those that only ever seem to grace cities. Underneath is a sombre secret in the form of The Capuchin Cemetery in the crypt. Here we move from cellar to cellar to find that the whole place, lamp fittings included, is decorated, if that’s the right word, with the bones of long dead monks. There are even some ghoulish skeletons dressed as monks in shady alcoves. To lighten my mood, I wondered what a field day my mother-in-law’s loveable rag-mat of a dog would have down here, trying to re-bury the lot!

For our fourth outing, we decided to give ourselves a ‘day-off’ from culture, despite having pre-booked the Borghese Gallery. When we weren’t sitting in a Tiber cruise boat for a pleasant sun-filled hour or so, we strolled through the picturesque streets of the Trastevere district (quite literally ‘across the Tiber’). This was more like it – if it wasn’t for the lack of canals, you could picture yourself in Venice. This area represents outstanding value when it comes to eating out, and we actually pulled off our lunchtime ‘coup’ of the holiday by paying €5 each for a bowl of fresh fettuccine with a plain tomato sauce, bread, wine, water and coffee (oh yes and a tip).

EATING OUT

This is where I and Rome part on mainly bad terms, despite what I wrote in the last paragraph. Even trying to make sure that you go where Romans go is no insurance that you’ll get what feels like value for money. Being a capital city, maybe even Romans’ own expectations are low, when it comes to VFM. We tried the lot from an ‘Indian’ restaurant (no honest) on our first night when nowt else local was open, to a Sardinian and a few local trattoria. With the exception of the first, which Time Out labelled as ‘divine Indian cuisine’ – (cobblers, the samosas were Cornish Pasties without the jam up one end!) it was starting to look like a full dinner for two was always heading in the direction of €100, around £70.

As for lunches, our experience wasn’t much better, and if it wasn’t for the fact that Trastevere was such a long hike, being nowhere near the Metro, we’d have gone back there more often.

Don’t get me wrong – the food was good, just bad value for money, which is a shame because dining out is one of my most pleasurable experiences that I bring home from foreign travel - usually.

In future, I’d stoke up on something cheaper at lunchtime like a slice of pizza or one of Italy’s excellent variety of sandwich, and minimise the damage to my wallet in the evening accordingly.

GETTING AROUND

For a city that has so much in the line of public transport, Romans will insist on using their cars. Perhaps they need an Uncle Ken ‘Pietravivente’ to start fleecing them at eight quid a throw. Buses and trams abound, although I never feel in a short break that I’ve got a proper ‘handle’ on where they go. Give me a Metro, and I’m off! Rome currently has two main Metropolitana lines, A and B. These cross at Termini station and head off to the four corners of the city, one of them terminating at the famous and massive Cinecittà studios built by Mussolini.

The Metro has a curious ambivalent feel to it. One the one hand, some of the trains are swish and brand new, whilst other are totally grafitti’d so you can’t even see what stop you’re at through the spray-painted windows. The stations are all of around the same vintage, i.e. not brand new but neutral in design. Curiously, whilst the trains are brightly lit, platforms aren’t although they are quite spacious compared to London’s. The gloom isn’t helped by having black matt ceiling over the tracks and deep orange paintwork as the corporate theme. Why they think people want background elevator music whilst waiting for a train is anyone’s guess, or maybe it deters buskers. Travel is cheap, even when buying single tickets. To be honest, with only two lines and given the fact that there are whole tracts of the cities un-served by the Metro (something to do with not undermining antiquities no doubt), a day pass is hardly worth the €4 you’d pay for one. Even a single journey is only €1, and you get 75 minutes-worth of use of the system for even that modest sum.

Given what I said about the state of the pavements, it’s still a reasonably small centre to stroll around for the able-bodied.

SECURITY

We’d had all the warnings about ‘gangs of eastern European Fagins’ plying their knee-high compatriots to pick your pockets, and true, we did see two young girls being hauled manfully off a Metro train that they’d suspiciously waited for the very last second to board. Unluckily for them, a burly railway security guard was right behind them!

By all means take the usual precautions – be wary of offers of help when you don’t look like you need any. Try not to look lost and if you must unfurl a map nod positively even if you haven’t a clue. Keep pockets zipped if possible – believe it or not, bum bags are a liability since if you are distracted they fall below your peripheral vision just long enough for someone with a Stanley knife to slit it and make off with your cards.

Above all, use the hotel safe for anything you don’t need that day.

Strangely enough, you come away feeling that it’s the CITY that mugs you, not the Rumanians or whoever they’re blaming this week.

For example, restaurants that only advertise the fact that they include service in Italian, whilst conveniently forgetting to put that bit on the English translation too.

Restaurants that entice you in with a mouth-watering blackboard lunchtime menu, open your wine order thereby committing you to paying for at least something, and then tell you that it’s all ‘off’ and that cannelloni (again!) is all there is!

Restaurants where the prices are enticing until you see how little the portions are.

Beware Romans pretending to be lost French tourists – this actually happened to us. We were strolling alongside the Circus Maximus when the driver of a beat-up Punto stopped and hailed us. He claimed to be French, and did indeed look a bit like Fernandel, but he was the most stereotypically Italian-sounding French man I’ve ever heard, in that ‘Your waff, sheeza vairy bee-oootifool lidy!’ kind of way. Then comes the patter – His ‘Inglissa waff’ comes from ‘Breeeestol’ and he was in ‘Arrods lasta week’. Then the gifts for my help with turning his map up the right way start flowing – clothing samples that no doubt fell off the back of a ‘camion’. Then he pushes home his sob story – his credit card is bent (in what way I wonder?) and he needs to buy petrol. Just £20 would do (why sterling in an Italian petrol station?), so he briskly finds that his ‘gifts’ are flying back in through his window amid protests that we ‘offenda’ him.

Tough.

I was tempted to throw in ‘Je ne suis pas né hier, copain’ but I don’t suppose for one moment that he’d have understood, and anyway, he chose to 'effa offa' at that point.

WHEN IN ROME…….

………Do as do the Romans.

Feel free to stand on both sides of the escalator and hold a loud conversation with the person standing on the correct part.

Don’t mind the gap. Don’t ‘minadors’ either for that matter.

Don’t ride a push bike – if the motorised vehicles don’t get you, wet tram-lines will!

When crossing a road on a ‘green man’, don’t flinch at the sight of a motorist cutting across your path from the side street – it’s allowed but unless you press home your priority over them, they won’t stop, leaving you like a forlorn matador shouting ‘Olé’ in the middle of a buffalo stampede – I suppose an accompanying ‘do’ would be to make sure your medical insurance is up to date.

Feel free to leave your car any-bloody-where you like; in fact the more obstructive you can be, the more you heighten your superiority over pedestrians.

Don’t bother being polite when getting on or off public transport – to be really ‘pro’ just don’t queue at all.

DO have an ice-cream – they really do know how to make them.

Try not to eat where only tourists eat, but I guess that goes for any big city. It’s easy enough to get ripped-off anyway, but this seals your fate 100%, just as sure as ‘uova are uova’.

Don’t believe everything you hear about how the UK’s kids are the worst in Europe – at least reserve judgement until you’ve shared a tourist trap with the Italian genus.

If you’re asthmatic to any degree at all, please DO NOT forget your inhalers. Goodness knows what the air quality is like in summer in this city of unrepentant petrol-heads.

Smile – it confuses them.

Above all, don’t let me put you off – it’s a great place, infuriating but great nonetheless, and I’m glad I’ve been.

It’s just that I’m not going back. I'd still give it 4 out of 5 though!

Lisbon beckons.

Summary: Capital city of Italy, and previous centre of Roman Empire, steeped in antiquity