Eternally yours, Roma

I knew that I wanted to travel to a major "bucket list" type destination this year. When the gloom and gray of August began to depress me in a major way, I decided it was time to bring out the big guns. Thus our mid-September trip to Rome.

Rome proved me wrong about quite a number of things. I thought mid-September would be cool enough to get just a bit of sun without crossing over into debilitating heat; I was wrong. I thought it would be hard to find a great, non-tourist menu meal; wrong again. I thought I wouldn't do any shopping, having not factored it into our four-day itinerary... hah! Finally, I'd heard a lot of complaints about how rude, chaotic, touristy and overcrowded the Eternal City could be, and thought I might hate it; again, I was wrong. 

I really loved this trip, and this city. I've realized that I'm no longer a big fan of big cities, and almost booked a trip to Cinque Terre instead. But Rome was so worth it.

I had booked our accommodations via AirBNB in Prati, a residential, middle-class district north of Vatican City and (by choice) a fair distance from the big tourist hotspots. Marlon and I got up at nine on the first morning and set out on a leisurely meander to the historic center. This long walk was when I first started to fall in love with the city.

To get to the Centro Storico (historic center), we had to walk a little over 4km and cross the Tiber River. 

One of the first, most vivid images of Rome I ever saw was in a Childcraft encyclopedia when I was about six or seven. (I still remember it was Volume 10, Places to Know.) It was the Castel Sant'Angelo, Hadrian's tomb turned papal residence and fortress, connected by an covered passageway to the Vatican. So I was thrilled to learn that we would be crossing the Tiber River at this historic landmark. I couldn't believe I was actually seeing this vivid image from my childhood—I was so excited, I actually ran towards it. And I don't run.

That morning walk was pretty awesome. I wish I wasn't so shy about taking photos of people, because I now really regret not taking more photos of the super fierce and molto chica locals we saw that morning.

The Romans struck me as positively petite (short, yes, but super skinny) and classically stylish. Think men in crisp, perfectly fitted suits in 35℃ heat, tanned women striding across uneven, gappy cobblestones in five-inch wedges, and aristocratic-looking grannies buying vegetables in sleek updos and linen dresses. I particularly recall an architectural, electric-pleated black linen dress that I would have killed for. If there was ever a time in my life when I seriously considered becoming a mugger, it was every time I saw a Roman dressed in some achingly covetable article of clothing. It was a crime of fashion, Your Honor!

Heck, in Rome even the doors are fierce. Check out these metal studs:

The doors may be fierce, yes. This cowardly lion, not so much. Lions seem to be a popular Roman motif; I lost count of how many lion door knockers I saw in those four days.

After a couple of hours of meandering (punctuated by some Sicilian-made gelati), we reached the Piazza della Rotonda...

... where the Pantheon is situated. Formerly a temple to the ancient Roman gods, the Pantheon became a tomb in the Renaissance period. Moving around the walls, we saw the burial places for the first and second kings of Italy, Vittorio Emanuele and Umberto, as well as the artist Raphael (Raffaello Sanzio), one of the master painters of the Italian Renaissance. Today, the Pantheon serves as a church.

The most recent theory is that the oculus (read: hole) in the ceiling was built so that the Pantheon could serve as a kind of sundial. When we arrived, a brilliant ray of sunshine fell right at the entrance, making for some celestial studio lighting. Cue choir of seraphim.

Just off the Piazza della Rotonda, serendipity reared its lovely golden head in the form of the Oficina Profumo-Farmaceutica di Santa Maria Novella. Established in 13th-century Florence by Dominican Monks, this is one of the oldest pharmacies in the world. Stepping into the store felt like sticking my nostrils into the Garden of Eden—it smelled absolutely divine.

Seeing my wide-eyed wonder, Marlon graciously authorized a splurge.  I was momentarily dazzled by the signature Santa Maria Novella scent, which Catherine de' Medici herself used. But in the end I was won over by the clean, powdery fresh scent of Pomegranate.

Next stop was the stunning Piazza Navona, famous for its Fountain of the Four Rivers by Bernini.

We missed two stunning fountains by Giacomo della Porta at the north and south ends. But we did see this very old Italian couple driving the cutest little car through the piazza!

After seeing the Roman arena at Nimes this summer, Marlon and I very nearly decided not to enter the great granddaddy of them all, the Colosseum.





Buti na lang nauntog kami. How could we go to Rome and not see it? Because the Nimes arena dwindled to Matchbox dimensions after seeing the real thing.

Guess who was really happy to have his gladiator fantasies come to life?

The Colosseum is where the sheer glory of the ancient Roman civilization will really grab you by the neck, lift you off your feet and throttle you. I'm not just talking about the architectural know-how needed for construction on such a massive scale. While our ancestors were hacking at roots with stones, the Romans were feeding the public's thirst for art and entertainment with complex sets, visual effects, even hydraulics (which is what the underground chambers beneath the floor of the arena were for) nearly 2,000 years ago.

Part of our Christian history lies in the Colosseum as well. A large cross commemorates the early Christians who were persecuted and martyred here, and by the Roman empire in general. Payback came centuries later when marble from the Colosseum "mysteriously" found its way into the construction of St. Peter's Basilica. #ohsnap

Fragments of pillars and ornamental blocks of marble lie strewn about the ruins of the Colosseum, like a giant's forgotten baubles. Even lying in pieces, the magnitude of this place and of this empire are impressive.

After closing time, we watched the sun drench the ancient stones in hues of yellow, pink and orange.

Then we crossed the Tiber to the district of Trastevere for dinner. The sunset sky simply cried out for us to stop on the bridge for a while. That's the dome of St. Peter's Basilica in the distance.

In Trastevere, I had the most sinful pizza of my life. But that deserves another post.