far too much writing, far too many photos

runswithscissors


Monday, March 03, 2003

I can't remember the last time I found myself getting lost as I have during these few days in Rome/Florence. (In terms of streets and such, I mean. This is not a life allegory. Then again, what do I know? Maybe it is.) Happened again last night. I decided to go to see The Quiet American, which entailed finding my way through the tangle of narrow streets around my current squat to la Via Corso, a north-south main drag. Thought I had it all under control. HAH!!! Within minutes I'd gotten myself way lost. The kind of lost you just can't fake your way out of. The upside: folks I've asked for help here have been models of good manners/good will. I speak Spanish, they speak Italian. They're patient, gracious. And I usually manage to get where I'm looking to go. Last night I got myself to la Piazza Venezia (meaning I wandered south instead of north, NOT what I'd intended), which turned out to an overgrown traffic circle wrapped around a monstrous, elevated, becolumned structure which, from the looks of it, suffers from a wild excess of testosterone. I grabbed a bus from there whose itinerary appeared promising. It pulled out, I took my Metro day pass from my pocket, ready to validate it for that ride. At which point three city employees, all dressed like Metro cops, announced they wanted to see everyone's pass, began checking all passengers.

Why, you ask? During the day, up to 9 or so p.m., passes can't be bought on the buses. They have to be bought at certain vendors (tobacconists, certain newstands, change shops). When you get on the bus, you go to the validation machine, insert your pass, it stamps it. A system that lends itself to cheating, the odds being good a cheater won't get busted.

The Metro cop who made the announcement last night hit on me first. I handed my day pass over, he scrutinized it, handed it back with a curt, "Grazi, signor." An Asian couple to my left weren't so lucky. Their passes were invalid in some way, two of the cops closed in, began grilling them, demanded ID, wrote out fines. A strange, hard-nosed scene.

Meanwhile, the bus took me nowhere near where I wanted to go so that I finally grabbed a taxi, which took me north, thick crowds of Sunday evening strollers periodically making it nearly impossible to move. We passed the Spanish Steps, one of the infinite number of local tourist focal points, continued north, finally found the theater. The evening moved along.

Something I noticed up in Florence: poinsettias were everywhere -- in store windows, on tables at restaurants -- maybe in connection with Advent/Easter. Also banners in rainbow colors, emblazoned with the word "PACE" -- peace. I first noticed them on the train ride to Florence, hanging from windows and balcones as the train entered the city. They're here in Rome, too, though they tend to get swallowed up more easily amid the city's overwhelming size, movement and concentration of visual input.

And another thing -- the streets in Rome, and especially Florence, are remarkably clean. Clean in a way that Madrid isn't. Madrid would be rapidly buried under trash if it weren't for the cleaning crews that toil away most hours of the day and night. I've seen a few street-cleaning workers here, but nothing like the number of laborers in Madrid, and the Roman/Florencian streets are far tidier. I mean no unfavorable comparison between Rome and Madrid here. I'm not sure I'd want to live in Rome, or at least I don't think I'd want to move here without knowing anyone, whereas Madrid won my heart unconditionally within 24 hours of touching down there.

Something else: the Italians seem to be receipt-obsessed. They insist on foisting a receipt on me for every single thing I spend money on, no matter how small. Newspapers, cups of coffee, an orange. Everything.

On the other hand, as with Madrid, it's easy to find good food here. A bit easier in Florence, since the city was so much more compact and easier to explore. Rome is so ^#*%!!! enormous that I find myself rendered a bit timid in the face of it, hesitant at times to try out an eating joint because there are just so many of them. There are two kinds of eateries I tend to avoid: any that use the word "American" in the name (i.e., a tony-looking dive across the piazza from here which has the words "American Bar" painted in the windows in large letters) and any that have a statue of a cute, rotund chef, face adorned with a big, curly stereotyped Italian moustache positioned out front. These sad distant relatives of garden gnomes usually hold signs emblazoned with things like "IT'S A REAL ITALIAN RESTAURANT!"

Maybe it is. Think I'll go somewhere else, though.

Today's field trip -- the Coliseum and the Forum. And a good meal or two.

It's Monday in Rome.

Later.

rws 5:22 AM [+]

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BLATHERINGS

August 2001
September 2001
October 2001
November 2001
December 2001
January 2002
February 2002
March 2002
April 2002
May 2002
June 2002
July 2002
August 2002
September 2002
October 2002
November 2002
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November 2008
December 2008
January 2009
February 2009
March 2009
April 2009
June 2009
July 2009

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MORE FOCUSED BLATHERINGS


Travels:
London '01
Pamplona
Italy '03
U.K. '03
Sevilla
Casablanca
Stoke-on-Trent
Barcelona
Québec/Ottawa
Boston/Lisbon/Madrid
Italy '04
Montréal
La Sierra

Events:
Madrid -- arrival
9/11
Emergency Room I
Holidays 2001
Holidays 2002
Holidays 2003
Holidays 2004
Holidays 2005
A neighbor's passing
Madrid -- March 11 bombings
  and aftermath
Emergency Room II
Israeli friend/Madrid Marathon
Madrid -- Royal Wedding
The DELE exam

GONE, a novel:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10

THE BASTARD CHILDREN OF
JOE ROCCO, a novella:
-- Part 1
-- Part 2
-- Part 3

BURBANK SHRUGGED,
a screenplay:
-- Part 1
-- Part 2
-- Part 3
-- Part 4

Short stories:
Murphy's Wife
Another Autumn
La Queja de Una
  Hermanastra Muy Conocida

Autobiography
-- Personal History
-- Hormones On Parade
-- Accidents, Random Mishaps,
    Personal Problems

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OTHER SOURCES OF WHOLESOME ENTERTAINMENT

People/Weblogs:
dooce
foxvox
fudge it
fear not
rebekka
bookslut
802online
idle words
madhaiku
wockerjabby
grow-a-brain
rebel market
letting me be
out and about
kung fu grippe
fanatical apathy
baghdad burning
wfuv's music blog
kexp's music blog
mimi smartypants
between the miles
just a hippie gypsy
the impossible cool
tomato can brushes
vermont homestead
sugar mountain farm

Good Clean Fun:
gizmodo
futurismic
postsecret
dave barry
human clock
mcsweeney's
spaceweather
book-a-minute
internet archive
self-portrait day
my cat hates you
out of context quotes
surrealist compliment
  generator
strindberg and helium

Makin' Musical Whoopee:
last fm
stereo8
pandora
soma fm

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ABOUT RWS/CONTACT





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