Bathing beauty

I've been meaning to go the the baths of caraculla for years, and finally made it there--by metro. I found the ruins very poignant--more so than seeing all the governmental buildings in the forum. I think it's because of the function of the place--8000 or 9000 people came to these baths a day to exercise, wash or take in the waters--it seems as if it was such an incredible complex, with amazing sculpture, mosaics and engineering. The baths' existence came to an end when the goths invaded and cut off the water supply--since the baths were not in the center (which is where everyone went to protect against more invasions) they completely fell into disuse. In any case, it was grey and rainy, but I still found them beautiful and more evocative of life in ancient rome than other ruins I've seen.

I'm waiting for the last few essays to straggle in--I'm hoping to get at least two more finished, but writers--as much as I love 'em--will be writers and missed deadlines will be missed deadlines (not that I'm naming any names)! :-)

So I work when I can and am savoring my waning days in Roma when I can't.
Ciao! Off for dinner.
Paola

Vroom! Vroom!

Tonight, the owner of my apartment invited me to come with her to a literary festival held in an ancient roman theater adjacent to the coloseum. It was amazing--the setting, and especially, being driven around on the back of a "motorino" as they call them here. I was terrified at first, but she went pretty slowly and the thing was big and stable. It was so much fun! After the show, she drove around a bit and showed me some monuments, everything all lit up. I now feel like a real Roman.
Buona notte!
Paola

Vaticanned out!

I was ultra-ambitious today and braved the crowds to see the Vatican museums. Basically, you move in a long snaking line through the main sights--the Greek and Roman sculpture, map rooms, Raffael rooms and finally, the Sistene Chapel. There were a bunch of little kids around me who were amazingingly patient--every room we got in, the little kids would say, Is this it? Is this the Sistene Chapel? Even some of the adults were doing it. People are crawling along past rooms with Picasso's and Francis Bacon's and Dali's in them, because everyone is so eager to get to Michaelangelo. In any case, I am always glad that I've done it, and always wrung out afterward.

Tonight I go (by scooter!--don't worry mom and dad!) to a literature festival in the roman forum. The woman who owns this apartment was nice enough to invite me--apparently, there are readings in English, and Italian actors act out the translations, then there is music. My friend Diana says it is a true Roman experience. I am nervous about riding on a scooter (the back of my landlady's), but promise to include a photo here--with helmet, of course!)
Ciao!
Paola

P.S. Above, frescoed ceilings, an 800 year old mosaic, and an ancient map of Puglia with Gallipoli marked, the place where I just traveled.

I saw lots of dead people today...

in the tomb of the Popes in St. Peter's Basilica. It was eerie and claustrophobic, with stone images of the popes lying on top of the tombs, stretching back from the 1400s. The queen of sweden is also buried there--why?! She is the only woman. There were people kneeling at the tomb of the "people's pope" from the '60s, forgot his name, and also, of course, the last one.
As for St. Peter's itself, it is meant to inspire awe, and it does, though I find it somewhat oppressive. Then again, perhaps that is part of the feeling it is meant to conjure--the power of the church. Saw Michaelangelo's Pieta, which shimmers, even behind bullet proof plastic, and wandered a bit in the Vatican treasury, where I saw lots of jewel encrusted crowns. Some of the simpler, smaller churches I have been in (and I have been in many during this trip) feel much more spiritual and people friendly--this isn't about people at all, it truly feels about the popes and the church and power and money. But great to see, and interesting to see everyone kneeling, praying, doing the rosary, etc.

It rained this morning, which is actually nice here, because it never rains too long, and it means that the streets of Trastevere are quiet, a rare occurrence. Then the sun came out and everything was clean and bright (except the Tiber, which was a murky green).
Buona notte!
Paola

Rome, sweet Rome!

I'm back at my (home) office and happy to be here, having had a good dose of friends old and new (back to back visits from Millicent and Pam; a dinner party hosted by an Italian friend of Diana's). I thought the food here was good, but food cooked by a bona fide Italian is beyond good--there was pasta a la Norma, a Sicilian dish with tomato and eggplant, to start. (Of course, I thought that was the entire meal, so ate my fill, then learned there were 3 more courses. Still not schooled in the ways of Italy!) After that, melon, proscutto and burata, a mozarella type cheese that is sweeter and creamier and comes in these little balls that kind of burst in your mouth when you bite them. Delicious. Followed by more fresh fruit and gelato. And, of course, wine. I'm hoping to return the favor by hosting a little apertivi get-together at my modest little Trastevere flat (as they say here); it wouldn't be home if I didn't throw a party!

Had an interesting experience in Lecce that I meant to get down here, my ersatz diary (except way less personal than a diary--sorry guys!). Millie and I spent the night in a b&b (very nice, in an 800 year old building in the center of town with vaulted stone ceilings, in case anyone is thinking of visiting Lecce). The woman who runs the place, originally from Sri Lanka, and I got to talking the morning we were checking out, and she told me, basically, her life story. She told me that she had always wanted to have a child, it was her life dream, and though she married in Sri Lanka, she couldn't have a child, despite trying and trying and trying. "My husband was very broadminded," she said, "and said I married you, baby or not," but she was extremely depressed. She said she couldn't bear to see her family and friends--even though her immediate family knew not to ask her about babies, everyone else did. She told me, "I would look at a pregnant cow, and think, 'That cow is better off than I am,' because the cow is pregnant." Hello--time for antidepressants!!!!
In any case, she was so miserable and felt so self conscious about her childless state, that she came to Italy to take a little break, ended up visiting Lecce, and decided to stay. Her husband stayed in Sri Lanka, though, at some point, came and lived with her for a few years because he was able to get a leave from his job. Eventually, though, he had to get back. But of course, she couldn't escape her sorrow. In Italy, on one of her husband's visits, she got pregnant, then miscarried after 3 weeks (after 13 years of trying). She was a teacher in Sri Lanka, and also did dance and choreography. She taught some dance in Lecce and her group one an award. But mostly, she has worked part time in a b&b, done babysitting, caring for an old woman. She is still very unahppy and bitter--though she has been in Italy for 26 years, she seems to dislike Italians--they area closed to outsiders, she says, and she has been unable to get her citizenship; she earns only 700 euros a month. So, I was feeling sad for her, and how her not being able to have a baby had shaped her entire life and her decisions and left her feeling like an outsider. Then, of course, she started saying, What about you? You're young now, but when you get older, you will have no one--what are you going to do? You have to get married!
Oy. Not exactly what I wanted to hear. I told her I was very lucky to live in NYC and didn't feel alone, but the conversation made a big impression on me--the choices she made, the bitterness she feels. I do hope I meet someone to love, but whatever happens, I don't plan to isolate myself like that, in shame.

Anyway, sad story--sorry, but felt it needed retelling. Made me feel lucky that I'm not from Sri Lanka, though I was struck by how the stigma of being childless and unmarried really goes across cultures for women--it's certainly something I feel in NYC, as well, though I try to fight it.

I got tons and tons of work done yesterday--got a wonderful essay in and I'm thrilled. I will have at least half the book edited by the time I leave--close to 200 pages, which I think is a good chunk, especially since I am very happy with the vast majority of the essays. Also walked around for FIVE hours, bought two pairs of cute sandals, and went into the Richard Meyer museum, (http://travel.nytimes.com/2006/09/25/arts/design/25paci.html) that holds the monument to Augustus. Extremely impressive exhibit. Today, I will do some editing, then I think I am going to brave the Vatican, or at least, St. Peter's Square.

A domani!
Paola

Time warped

So. Puglia. There is something I am learning about going off the beaten tourist path, which is this: There is a reason things are on that path and a reason things are slightly off it. Puglia, while nice enough, is not Tuscany or Rome or Umbria or Cinque Terre. It is a relatively poor region, and though has a nice coast line, the landscape is not particularly dramatic, nor are the towns we saw. BUT: I loved the medieval city of Lecce, where we spent our first day. I thought the Baroque architecture was interesting, fun and over-the-top, with cupids, flowers, dancing saints, etc., like buildings turned into giant tacky wedding cakes. Gallipoli, where Millicent and I stayed for several days, was a bit of a disappointment. I'd heard that it was beautiful, very Greek, with windy streets and flowers. It did have some of that (the white and blue architecture, the windy streets, the flowers growing from window gardens), but it wasn't especially beautiful or natural--more a port town than a place brimming with natural beauty. I did enjoy strolling the streets and seeing the old ladies and men sitting in their doorways, looking at the beat up fishing boats, seeing the fishermen working their trade, and sampling the fruits of their labor--we had some terrific (and some mediocre seafood) and lots of orichette and broccoli rabe, which the region is known for. Also some terrific wine--Primitivos and Salente Salice's, which I hadn't heard of or drank--delicious. Millicent also braved the Italian autostrada and we drove along the coast of both the Adriatic and Ionion seas, stopping in a town called Galatina, which has a cathedral with incredible frescos, and Otranto, another seaside town with a castle and a cathedral with an incredible 12th century mosaic of King Arthur. Basically, each little town had maybe one cool thing to see--you had to settle for the "subtler" pleasures, shall we say (like no other American tourists!).

Of course, as it always does, travel has its challenges. Before Millie arrived, she sent me her itinerary, and based on that, I booked the train tickets, the hotel, etc., etc. She was to arrive on Saturday and leave the following Sunday. Except once she got here, somehow we got it into our heads that she was leaving Saturday, and as a result, some very confusing things happened. For instance, we initially thought we'd have 4 days to explore Puglia (which we actually did) but behaved as if we had 3 days. So when we checked out of the hotel in Gallipoli, they were like: Oh, you're checking out a day early? I was like, NO, of course, sure I was right. (No one spoke English, which made things more confusing). Then, we got to the train station in Lecce, with plenty of time to spare, got on the train, and their were people in our seats. Finally, they looked at our tickets and said: Domani! Domani! These tickets are for tomorrow! So we ran off the train to see if we could switch the tickets (and I left my laptop on the train, which Millicent had to run back and get). So, we bought new tickets, then got back on the train (we'd had to upgrade to first class, the only seats available) and there were STILL people in our seats! Turns out the guy at the station had given me incorrect tickets, despite what I had asked for. So we found empty seats, then, when the conductor came, I tried to explain what happened, and thought he said we had to make up the difference, and that it would cost us 80 Euro. So we tried to argue (in Italian) and I was saying: No e justo! (It's unjust! Funny the words you use when you have such a limited vocabulary. I have to talk in the present tense and tend to use very formal words--I'm sure I sound like an oddball). Then, after 15 minutes of back and forth, turns out he had said 8 Euro. So we'd been arguing over the equivalent of 10 dollars. Anyway, we paid the difference, got new seats, but of course, I felt confused and upset about how I'd made all these mistakes and misbooked all these things. Then, we got home, and Millicent looked at her itinerary, and it turned out that she was leaving Sunday, not Saturday, and that we WERE supposed to stay in Gallipoli an extra day, we WERE supposed to take the train domani, etc., etc. In any case, she got an extra day in Rome, I got to come home and get to work and settle back in after all this traveling, but it was kind of an absurdist adventure.
Tonight, we are meeting a few of Diana's friends for dinner in one of their apartments--looking forward to it.
Buona serrata!
Paola

I'm baaa-aaack!

My camera is still packed, and I've had a bit too much Nero D'Avola tonight to start downloading pics, but safely back in Roma from a stint in Puglia (more on that tomorrow, with full color illustrations and the stories to go with 'em). This is mostly to let all my loved ones know I am snugly at home (in Rome), listening to the Friday night throng in the streets and am glad to be here. One other thought: TWO. MORE. WEEKS. Can you believe it?!
Love,
Paola

Happy Birthday, Millie!

Tonight, Millicent and I crossed the Ponte Sisto Bridge (above), meandered our way to the usual spots (Piazza Navona, the Pantheon), and ended up enjoying amazing pizza at 'gusto (I can't stay away). Tomorrow, on to Puglia, the heel of the boot. Look for the evidence on Saturday, when I return!
Buona serrata!
Paola

3 heads are better than one....

...at least, when 2 of the heads are Millie and Pammy, who have come together tonight on Pam's last night and Millicent's first night in Rome. It's lovely to have company. On Monday, Millie and I depart for Puglia and shores afar, lacking in email (and blog opportunities). Tomorrow, I work.
Buona notte!
Paola

more cinque terre photos!

Travel porn from the Cinque Terre

...feast your eyes
The Cinque Terre was lovely--very touristy (tons and tons of Americans) but phenomenally beautiful. Pam and I stayed in an apartment with a giant terrace (there was also a balcony in the back). As you can see from the photos above (the sunsets and many of the other shots, which were taken from the terrace) the view was spectacular. Some of our favorite moments were drinking espresso and eating fresh bread and fruit and cheese that we'd picked up from the local market and watching the sea, the hikers, the townspeople farming on the terraced ridges in the surrounding hills. We stayed in a tiny village called Manarola--basically, each village is nestled into cliffs, with a port, surrounded by olive groves and wild flowers. There is a 12 kilometer bath connecting the five villages and Pam and I hiked every day--the trail pretty much hugged the coastline so you were looking down on crashing waves. We climbed many stairs, but the vistas were worth it. Today, we hiked to the next village over from Manarola (called Corniglia), then walked through a mile long tunnel to a "naturist" beach, as the locals call it (a nude beach) that was supposed to be very beautiful. We didn't get naked, but it was a lovely spot, the long walk through the dark tunnel not withstanding. We sampled many of the local specialties--a small pasta known as triofe with pesto, anchovies (which I've never loved and still don't) and lots of shellfish. Basically, the food was good, but I would say the area is really about the natural beauty and the hiking--in terms of cultural interest or cuisine, that's not the reason to go there.

In any case, was a wonderful, relaxing and energizing trip--there are no cars allowed in the villages, and it was great to be in a quiet environment, especially after the noisy Roman throngs (not that I'm complaining).
I will allow the photos above to do the rest of the describing....
Buona notte!!!
Paola

Pammy and Paola in Roma!!!

It's so nice to be able to share my insider secrets with a friend, to share a meal with a friend, to have someone to TALK to who actually knows me. Pam and I had a wonderful day today, wandering around at the same leisurely place, overdosing on pizza (one of our favorite restaurants, 'gusto), and sitting at twilight on the top of the Spanish steps, taking in the view of St. Peter's and people watching. And of course, we hit all the hot spots: the Pantheon, Campo Di Fiore, Trevi Fountain. Tomorrow we had north to the coast, to the Liguria region of Italy, to begin our stay in Manarola, part of the Cinque Terre, for hiking, swimming, and lolling on what promises to be another terrace with an incredible view. (One would hope, since we're splurging!)
Ciao! I am going to be offline for the next four or five days, so dad--don't worry. Nothing bad has happened to me. I'm not even bringing my computer. Expect some fabulous photos on Friday or Saturday!
Buona notte!
Paola

A friend! A friend!

My friend Pam arrived today and it was so nice to have someone to share pizza(and gelato) with. I was ready for company.
Buona notte!
Paola

So THIS is what it's like

...to really live in Rome (as opposed to being a tourist). Today, I did errands (refilled phone card, went to bank, went to supermarket, did laundry, went to dry cleaners--yes! found a dry cleaners and had a nice conversation with the crochety owner (in Italian) who wanted to know why the last four of five customers in his shop had been Americani) and readied myself for my visitors TK. Then, I went over to a (new) friend's apartment and had a glass of wine with her, then walked to a former working class turned trendy neighborhood (Testaccio) for an appertivo and pizza with more friends of friends. It felt great to socialize with people I'd met before and was fun telling everyone about the book. The whole experience felt authentic as opposed to vacation-y.
Arreviderci! Buono seratta!
Paola

Paola a la plage...

...or maybe a more accurate title for this post would be Paola a la spiaggia (which is beach in Italian). But truly, the most precise description would be Paola on her terrace, since my terrace in my lovely hotel (Casa sul mare) on the island of Procida is where I spent most of my time on this last little jaunt. For one thing, the terrace was bigger than my apartment in Trastevere (practically). For another, well, the view was breathtaking, changing every minute with the light. There were cliffs, boats, clouds, birds, fauna, navy blue sea--this view had it all.
Procida was an interesting island. It's quite near Capri, off of Naples, but as different from Capri as you can imagine. For one thing, like much of southern Italy, there are crumbly, decrepit and downright dirty parts (the black sand beaches, I am sorry to say, were not always the cleanest). There was also a profusion of motorcycles, cars and rattly old trucks trying to navigate the windy streets--pedestrians literally have to press themselves against the wall to let vehicles pass. At the same time, the island is beautiful, not touristy at all and there are lots of places to escape to. Today, I took a long walk to a light house, past lots of lemon trees (the island is known for lemons, limoncello and a tongue shaped pastry filled with lemon cream called lingua; also seafood, which was terrific). But basically, it's a fishing village with a middle/working class population and a few posh villas sprinkled in. It felt extremely real, in the way Naples (or New York City) feels real. It was wonderful to be by the water, to swim, to hear birds (when they weren't drowned out by traffic) and to come upon a church on every corner, many packed with people. In fact, the first night I was there was the feast of St. Michael, the patron saint of the island, and there was a procession down the cliffside, with singing and chanting and fireworks and canons. I met an interesting bar owner named Vincenzo, a grandfather who lived in Brooklyn and was a painter at the WTC about 10 years ago; it was nice to come upon someone who spoke English, and we had a good chat about life, getting older, New York, Italy, marriage...(not to each other--he has been married for 44 years). It was nice to make a connection.

Oh, and I experienced my first Italian strike. On the day that I left for Procida, I called the usual taxi number, and I was on hold for about an hour; when someone finally answered, there was laughter and--"it's not working!" Oh, I figured, I better go to a taxi stand. So I did, and discovered that there was a nationwide one day taxi strike. Which forced me to finally figure out the buses. I tagged along with some other women who were going to the station, who found out which bus to take from a local. It was actually quite easy. The tough part was when I got to Naples, where the strike was going on, as well. Naples is extremely chaotic and I was wandering around with my suitcase, trying to find the right bus. Again, I did eventually, but I didn't exactly do it with great style. I definitely looked like a stressed out, kind of spastic American tourist. But I made it!
Buona serrata!
Paola