They used to say that all roads lead to Rome. It's not true any more, but fortunately the A1 autostrada does still lead to Rome, and it was a pleasant 2.5 hour coach trip down from Siena on Flixbus. Flixbus are like National Express or Megabus back home, except that they turn up on time and it's only the toilet that smells like piss. Also, when you buy one ticket you get a discount on a second, which is an irresistible incentive for a grumpy old git like me to buy a double seat and indulge in some legally & morally justified man-spreading.
Anyway, Rome. I'm indifferent to the overhyped romantic associations of the place (think Gregory Peck and Audrey Hepburn zipping about on a scooter in 'Roman Holiday'). Still less am I interested in the prospect of a geriatric white-robed Argentinian communist being wheeled out onto a balcony to wave at me. But as with Florence a couple of weeks ago, and as with Athens six years ago, this is one of those places with too much history to ignore.
I suppose part of me was unconsciously expecting the Flixbus to trundle into Rome under vast stone arches, with crowds of plebeians and kneeling gladiators and toga-clad tribunes all hailing me as I passed. But soon enough reality imposed itself when we arrived at Rome's distinctly dingy Tiburtina bus station on a grey afternoon in late November. If you'd parachuted me in there blindfolded, my best guess would have been that I was in one of the less affluent former Warsaw Pact countries. But obviously once you get into the city centre, there's no mistaking where you are.
It's quite eye-opening to see just how old everything is. For example, work first began on the Colosseum in the year VII, ie 7AD. At least those Roman numerals are easy to figure out. When I was a kid, the BBC closing credits always ended with MCMLXXXVIII or what have you. Really the ancient Romans had it easy. But it's no wonder they never figured out long division.
From the Colosseum I headed a short way north-west and found myself ticking off country number two of this trip, and country number sixty-one (I think) of my life to date. Specifically, the Vatican City. For the avoidance of doubt, yes it is 100% a country, and the world's smallest country at that. So small - and apologies for repeating here a fact from my 2016 blog - that it would all fit inside the Indy 500 racetrack.
Rome was always on my bucket list and I'm glad I came. That said, the city centre is just too manic for my tastes, even at this time of year. All those souvenir shops and ticket touts and street hawkers and pimps. All those signs everywhere advertising 'hop on hop off' (that's the ticket touts, not the pimps). There's no escaping the crowd of box-ticking tourists, no matter where you go. All you can do is join the crowd. Well, when in Rome, and all that.
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Vittoriano |
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Forum |
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Circus |
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Colosseum |
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St Peter's Basilica in the Vatican City "Religion... That vast moth-eaten musical brocade Created to pretend we never die" Philip Larkin, 'Aubade' |
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Castle and bridge of St Angelo, built by the emperor Hadrian |
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Juturna temple |
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Pantheon |
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Aqueduct in the south-eastern suburbs |