Christmas in Rome

First the first time this year, David and I stayed in Europe for Christmas. I don't really remember how the decision came about, but I guess it had a little bit to do with it being the first year that my expatriation budget didn't provide our trip home.

Not going home for Christmas is sad, though - however logical - and in order to avoid being in our little apartment alone on Christmas Day, I convinced Dave that we should finally visit Rome.

So the morning of Christmas Day we left Paris and landed in balmy Italy by early afternoon. We figured out how to take the train into the city, then worked our way to the hotel. I had managed to find a good flight and 5-star hotel package deal, so we were set up in a pretty nice room in a central part of the city.

After dropping off our bags and jackets (yippee!), we decided to walk down to see the Colosseum. Tourist maps in hand we strolled the charming Italian streets, stopping every block or so to take photos. Finally we found the Colosseum, and spent the better part of the next hour walking around, marveling, and taking pictures - both for ourselves and other tourists who thrust their cameras at us.

From there we started walking down Via dei Fori Imperiali, a large thoroughfare in front of the Colosseum. On either side of the road were fantastic old ruins, and as night fell we ended our walk at the Piazza Venezia before turning around and walking back to the hotel.

The next morning we saw on the news that the Pope was attacked by a woman during Christmas mass. No, it wasn't me. Why does everyone keep asking me if it was?

On the recommendation of Hector we had bought the Roma pass, which gives three days of access to all of Rome's mass transportation and free access to the first two sites visited. So the first thing we did that day was walk back to the Colosseum and use our passes to cut the huge line and breeze right though the door. With that little convenience alone, the Roma pass paid for itself.

It had started raining lightly when we got there, but the throngs of tourists were not to be deterred. We swarmed around the building, ducking in here and there to keep dry.

During the Christmas holidays it seemed as though all the Italians had fled to their families and left the city to the tourists. Particularly the Americans. Athens is the only other Europen city where we've heard so much American English being spoken around us. Whenever we tried to play the "I'm not an American tourist" game with a local by speaking French to them, they always answered in English. And during the entire trip I didn't hear one Italian song - every restaurant, hotel, and elevator was playing American pop music. Depeche Mode, Michael Jackson, Madonna. It was like being in Disneyland.

Anyway, after the Colosseum we walked to the nearby Roman Forum. Of course we hadn't done our homework before the trip and both of our guidebooks were French (on loan or gifts from French colleagues), so we really had no idea what we were looking at. We did see that Mussolini had built himself a home right smack dab in the middle of the ancient Roman site, that bully.

When we left the forum it was still raining, so we used our Roma passes and hopped on the next bus that passed. Halfway across the city we jumped off near the Piazza Navona and saw the beautiful plaza and fountains. There was a Christmas market going on despite the rain, so we stopped to look at some of the more interesting stalls. Many were selling charming nativity scenes, with an array of characters to buy. I found it funny, the rows upon rows of minature townspeople, exotic animals, Marys, Josephs, and teeny Christ babies.

We continued on to the Pantheon, which was closed, much to my dismay.

We finished the night at small restauant on a quiet side street, drying off in the dim light and enjoying a fine Italian dinner.

The rain had finally stopped by the next morning, but we set out with umbrellas in hand just in case. After being bummed out by the Patheon the day before, David agreed to try again with me. Luckily it was open this time, and we didn't regret the effort to return.
The Pantheon turned out to be my favorite part of Rome, but I suppose it was helped by the years of anticipation that led up to the visit. There are a certain number of beautiful things I remember from my high school Humanities textbook, and a full-page photo of painting of the Pantheon made enough of an impression on me to long to see it after all these years. I even remembered the word for the big hole in the ceiling - the oculus, or 'eye' - or more specifically -'eye to God'. Fifteen years of keeping that word in my vocabulary just for this visit.

While David walked around and took photos I stood directly under the oculus, feet planted on the drain in the foor, and threw my head back to stare up at it.

I had finally made it to the Pantheon.

Incidentally, Paris has a Pantheon as well. It's big and round and Marie Curie is buried there, along with a handful of other famous French people. But don't let the French tell you it's the Patheon - the real deal is in Rome.

Having satisfied my pilgrimage, I was ambivalent about the rest of the day's itinerary. David decided we should check out Vatican City in advance, and we passed the famous Trevi fountain en route. Like most extremely famous sites we've seen, David was put off by the masses of tourists packed around it and was decidedly unimpressed. I tossed in a coin and shrugged.

Vatican City is not - much to my surprise - in the best part of town. Within the Vatican walls, however, the city itself was immaculate, and we spent a good part of the afternoon walking around the Piazza San Pietro, admiring the sculptures, fountains, and checking out the Pope's digs from the outside. David wondered if the Pope would make a surprise visit. We stared up at the red velvet curtains, trying to will him out of hiding, or maybe catch him glancing wistfully out the window. No luck.

On the way back we stopped at the Piazza del Popolo, which wasn't much to get excited about after leaving the impressive Piazza San Pietro.

For dinner we stopped in the Pizzeria Bottiglieria, a restaurant not far from our hotel that our guidebook lauded. It was a charming little place with old wooden tables, tiled floors, and packed with locals. We had the most amazing pizza and spent days afterward trying to figure out what exactly made it so special. In fact, we haven't had pizza since we've returned from Rome, for fear that we'll only be disappointed by what any other city has to offer.

The next day was reserved for the Vatican museum. What we didn't know when we booked our visit to Rome was that the Vatican museums were closed the weekend of Christmas, so the only chance we had to see the Sistine Chapel was Monday morning before our flight. So we rose early, packed our bags and stashed them in the hotel luggage storage, and returned to Vatican City by 8:30 a.m.

I had pre-bought our tickets online, so we met our contact on the steps in front of the museum and were ushered in with the others in our "group". Apparently groups are allowed entry before the mass public, so many tour companies escort "groups" of people into the museum, turn over the tickets, and let them loose.

Of course the #1 thing that everyone wants to see in the Vatican museum is the Sistine Chapel. Michelangelo's famous painted ceiling, that clichéd scene of God touching Adam, then rush onto other things. Since it was the only thing we had planned for the day, and we had paid a price to see the whole museum, we decided to make a morning of it.

So while frantic visitors rushed passed us, we strolled through the whole museum, stopping to admire less famous but no less beautiful ceilings, antiquities, and art. I saw some paintings I remembered from the same school textbook, even though I couldn't remember their names anymore. Aside from the usual classical religious work, there were also galleries of more modern art with Dali, Picasso, and Bacon. We had most of them to ourselves.

A consequence of viewing great art with a religious theme is that David usually stands at my shoulder and asks for the interpretation. Not the symbolism of the objects in the painting - David wants to hear a Bible story. And sadly, my Bible story memory is rusty, which usually means I end up weaving a vague sketch of the basics. It's rather shameful.

Finally in the Sistine Chapel we were not the least bit underimpressed. We parked ourselves on hard plastic-sheathed stone bench and sat back to look. Photography was strictly prohibited, but I slid the SLR onto my lap as innocently as I could and snapped a pretty decent illegal shot.

At the end of the tour we were dumped into the bookstore - predictably - and sent postcards home from The Vatican on behalf of the Pope.

We wandered back outside and walked back to the Piazza San Pietro. We had a few hours left before leaving for the airport, and we halfway considered waiting in line to see the Vatican, but finally decided it wasn't worth the risk. Instead, we took our time walking back to the hotel and spent a little time shopping on the way. We picked out a leather purse to replace my stolen one, which I am happy and surprised to report that I love. I thought it would take me months to find a suitable replacement.

We continued back to the hotel, where we were reunited with our luggage before setting off for the train station and the airport.

So finally, Rome was beautiful, and we're pleased that we finally made it. I'm happy I was able to see so many things I'd been anxious to see since all these years. I don't mind reserving The Vatican for the next visit - it gives me something to look forward to.