The Archive

Arrivederci Roma

Well, that went well.

I am referring, naturally, to the great Roman weekend which resulted in (all gamblers rip up betting slips now and toss confetti pieces into the air, muttering darkly)...

Arrests - 0 (zero)
Attempts to talk to girls - 0 (zero)
Bottles of wine - 4
Near death experiences - 1
Pairs of shoes purchased - 2
Mosquito bites - 11 (eleven)

So a success I would say.

Highlights included:

1. Visit to the Da Vinci thingy. In a poorly disguised attempt to cash in on the Da Vinci craze, someone has gone and built a bunch of his inventions, stuck them up next to the original skeches and hastily thrown together a brief description.

What's good about it?
It is suprisingly compelling and I challenge anyone to come out of it without once having used the word 'ingenuity'. Best of all was the self-standing bridge made of sturdy logs and nothing else, held together by the tensions created when you push down on the bridge (a bit like the keystone of an arch, if you're into that sort of thing). I will be recreating this in chopsticks and publishing the results soon, I assure you.

What's not good about it?
A disappointing lack of murderous albino monks.

2. The taxi ride
Whilst people tend to go on and on and on about how fabulous it is that the happy-go-lucky Italians have a much more relaxed attitude to life, they are bang wrong, clearly having never had to wait for a cab at 1am only to be told their destination is just too much hassle for the cabbie to bother with. Happy-go-lucky bastards.

The good news:

All Italian cabbies are not the same.

The chap who did take us home stands out as a prince amongst shovel-leaners. Add the fact that he stopped at all to his typically Italian approach to red lights (advisory at best. You might slow down for them, you might not), the fact that he drove as one might a bumper car (options: pedal down all the way or nothing) AND took us home to the surreal strains of Samantha Fox insisting she wanted to feel my body and I can only say... Cab dude - I salute you.

The bad news:
No bad news. Unless you count the hundred other Italian cabbies who were too busy scoffing pizza and stabbing their wives' lovers in the spleen to pick us up.

3. Walking
We did an awful lot of this, as one of the things I love to do is just wander around new places.

The best bits:A bit like London, one of the fab things about Rome is you are only ever five minutes away from something else cool and interesting, such as the Trevi fountain, Macdonalds or the balcony from which Mussolini gave his speeches.

The not so good bits: On the subject of fascist dictators, they're missing a trick there. The balcony itself is completely unmarked. No plaque, nothing.

Now surely Tussaud or someone should see the potential for a coin operated Il Duce standing on the balcony. Stick in a five euro note to watch him gesticulate wildly. A twenty will get you the full leap from the balcony onto butchers' hooks experience.

Also not so good was the, erm, detour we took (remember, Hollander claims to have grown up in Rome and know it like the back of her hand) up a narrow road with no pavement and a lot of oncoming traffic. (see near death experience above).

4. The drugs
No, not what you think. I still had the tail end of a cold, which no over-the-counter medicine in the UK seemed to shift (you know, sinussy headache, throbbing pains behidn the eyes, not that I'm one to complain mind you).

The good news:
Italians are, apparently, massive hypochondriacs. Fortunately, I am too. So when I went in to get a sinus spray, they gave me something that not only cleaned out my sinuses, but I'm fairly sure took out a fair proportion of my frontal lobe into the bargain. Which was a fair exchange as far as I was concerned.

The bad news: It took out a fair proportion of my frontal lobe into the bargain. Which was a fair exchange as far as I was concerned. What? I've said that already? Oh, sorry.

5. The dutch Italians
When in Italy, as they say, spend time with a load of Dutch people. Well, that's how it worked out anyway as we went to visit Sister Hollander on a balcony with a bunch of other Roman Dutch.

The good bit: The owner of the balcony, who was a short Italian with a huge moustache. I swear to God he'd modelled his whole look on the Asterix comics. To support that idea up, he certainly seemed keen on drinnking 'the potion'.

The not so good bit:
The feelings of terrible shame as the Dutch and Italians switched between their respective languages, and then all switched again to perfect English on my arrival. I considered asking the way to the station in French, just to be seen to make an effort, but decided it just wasn't worth it.

6. The bar:
We went to some bar that Hollander used to hang out in to watch the football. The owner remembered her from so many years ago and was most hospitable.

The good bit: Being made to feel like a local in a bar in Rome.

The not so good bit: When the bar owner, wrongly assuming I was Hollander's boyfriend, told me 'You are serious about her or..." at this point he made a distinctive finger across the throat 'I will kill you' gesture. I think he was joking, but still...

6. Piazza Argentina
Perhaps he didn't see ya. (sorry, inside joke).

7. Boxing
For reasons we are still not clear on, we stumbled across an outdoor boxing ring where some sort of European youth boxing tournament seemed to be taking place.

The good bit: Surprise sporting entertainment.
The bad bit: Knowing that, out and about in Rome that night were at least a hundred highly trained, seasoned boxers. Don't start anything eh?

So, that's about it (obviously not really, but if you want to know what's good to see in Rome, buy a fucking Rough Guide why don't you? This is a blog, not a source of useful information). Many thanks to the Hollander clan for their hospitality and various lifts to and from the airport.

And thanks too Straniera, the Campo di Fiore was indeed awash with booze and youth hormones. A great place to pick up... well, a fight really. I think I'm a bit old for places like that these days.

Still, good night though.

ciao.

posted by Peter The Great @ 9:14 PM