Taking it Slow

 

Things go at their own pace here in Italy, and it is generally much slower than I would want them to. Italy keeps chiding me to slow down.

For example, Tuesday last week I arrived in the little town of Torgiano at 12:30, hoping to visit the wine museum they are known for (it's really the only thing they are known for). I had hardly walked in when I was ushered out by the receptionist, because it it was time for siesta. I had two hours to kill before the museum opened again. When I asked the receptionist che cosa c'è da fare mentre aspetto (what is there to do while I wait), she gave me a funny look. "Go to the bar, the restaurant... have a gelato" she told me in Italian, but I had a hard time thinking of passing two hours sitting down. Instead, I filled the time first by going to the supermarket and wandering down the aisles (15 minutes), then I walked around the town (15 minutes–yes, only), then I took a nap on a bench in the sun (20 minutes), then I asked around and found out when and where to take the bus back to Perugia (10 minutes). Finally, I resigned myself to sit down at a bar (the only bar – at their only table) to spend the maximum of the remaining hour.

 

The point is, I am so used to fixed schedules, precise due dates and running against the clock that sometimes it's hard to take it slow. But here, it doesn't seem to matter if a shop opens an hour later than it's scheduled time (like the lavanderia I had wanted to use that morning), and time takes a full break between one and three in the afternoon. Rushing is simply not part of the Italian vocabulary (unless you're on the road – but that's a whole other story).

I suppose for a North American, this will be one of the hardest things to get used to. The language – I am making progress every day; the food – is so delicious that I don't particularly miss the stuff I buy at home, but taking things slow goes against everything I have been taught.

*Pictures are from my day-trips to Torgiano and Assisi.

Me in front of the Basilica of San Francesco in Assisi.

Odd pusscake? Odd indeed...

Goodbye Rome

The day I left Rome was not my lucky day. I woke up really early, and I had to get out of bed before I had a chance to fall back asleep, because my dad and I had to be at the train station early. He was off to the airport while I was headed to Perugia, the town where I would be taking Italian classes for a month.

After an unpleasantly cold shower and a quick cup of tea, we took a taxi to the station. I nearly missed my train, but I may as well have missed it, because my train never reached its destination, due to a strike in the Umbria and Le Marche regions. I got dropped off in Foligno instead and had to share a taxi with four other unfortunate commuters to reach Perugia.

However, with the time it took to organize the ride, I was an hour late to meet my landlord-to-be, and it cost me another 20 euros in taxi fare to find out that he was no longer at out meeting place. Of course, I hadn't thought of writing down his phone number so I couldn't contact him.

I had to switch to plan B – to stay in a hostel and try to contact my landlord later to apologize for not showing up. I arrived at the hostel just as they were closing down (apparently the hostel is locked down everyday from 11 to 3:30), but the lady let me leave my suitcase inside, and kindly showed me the way to the tourist information centre. I wandered a little around town while I waited for the hostel to open again.

Be Right Back...

Sorry for the lack of updates recently. I got bored of staying in Umbria while waiting for my course to start, so I decided to head to Florence for the weekend, for a bit of Tuscan sun and wine. I didn't feel like lugging my entire suitcase around, so I left the whole thing-along with my computer-in Perugia. I will post the rest of my Roman adventures when I return, as well as some pictures and stories from my Tuscan vacanza.

A Love Affair with Mozzarella

Sunday morning, I woke up early, and went out again to fare la spesa (do the groceries) for our collazione (breakfast). Gorgonzola, goat cheese and an apple for me, and cornetti, jam and peaches for my dad.

It was our last day in Rome together, and although we had a beautiful sunny morning, by the afternoon it was stormy and pouring rain. Good thing we had no plans after lunch except napping and reorganizing our suitcases. And we had done well in the morning, braving the crowds to visit St. Peter's Basilica.

 

I had an Inca-nerd moment when I saw a trapezoidal door inside St Peter's Basilica. Inca influence at the Vatican! Funny thing was, seeing that I was posing in front of the door, other people started queuing up to have their own picture taken, thinking that the door was something special.

The sky cleared in time for an evening stroll through Trastevere, where we took a look around shops, bars and restaurants. I cracked the bank when I found a lovely purple leather wallet at an artisan fair. It's a good, useful souvenir, I told myself, and my current wallet was falling apart.

 

My dad with the giant salami

For our last dinner in Rome, we chose a busy restaurant called Obika, which was advertised as a 'Mozzarella Bar'. The mozzarella bar turned out to be an excellent choice for our last dinner in Rome. The food was delicious, and we couldn't have asked for a better ambiance, facing the lively Campo de Fiori. I opted for their mozzarella special (how could I not?), which consisted of choosing between one of four kinds of mozzarella, and a contorni to go with it. I took the grilled seasonal vegetables (eggplant and zucchini) served with a yummy pesto dressing, and to drink, I had another spritz and then a glass of sauvignon bianco. The mozzarella di bufala itself was out of this world – a delicious blob of meaty, juicy and flavourful cheese.

After dinner, it was time to bid Rome farewell, because we would be both be leaving early the next morning, each on our own path.

When in Rome...

Saturday morning, we took advantage of the kitchen and the table in our sweet to prepare our own breakfast. I set out to buy fruits, tea and jam at a little supermarket I had spotted during my walk the day before, and two cornetti at a bar. I had an apple with the creamy gorgonzola I had leftover from Naples.

After breakfast, we headed out, passing by the Campo di Fiori market on our way to the Colosseum, to ogle at food.

Food!

More Food!

Say 'cheese'!

We walked by the forum and the palatine, and ate a late lunch in a little street a few blocks behind the Colisseum (I had another caprese salad... how boring am I?) After lunch we visited the Basilica di San Clemente, a church built on top of a church built on top of a Roman villa where a pagan cult was practiced – your typical European mash-up. We wandered some more afterwards, trying to stay away from the traffic as we made our way back to Piazza Navona.

Area Sacra di Largo Argentina

Poppies among the ruins

At lunch – my caprese salad and me being artsy fartsy with my camera

For dinner, we opted for another trattoria near our hotel, which I chose because they had artichokes on the menu. Unfortunately, our server notified us that there were no artichokes as the season was over, but we had an excellent meal all the same. We started with a round of aperol spritz, my favourite aperitivo before moving to wine. I had a tomato salad with black olives as my antipasto, and an absolutely exquisite dish of sautéed mussels and clams with parsley as my main dish. All in all, despite the lack of artichokes, it was one of my best meals in Italy so far.

After dinner, I was once again wined-out, and it took me no time to fall asleep.

All Roads Lead to...

 Friday was my last day in Naples. After breakfast, I went to visit the National Archeological Museum of Naples, which holds many mosaics and artifacts recovered from Pompeii and Herculaneum. I met my dad back at the hotel at midday, and we went to the train station to catch the train to Rome.

A mosaic from Pompeii

Arriving in Rome made me realize how unsettling Naples had been in comparison. The little streets of Rome's historic centre are much more charming and welcoming, lined with cafés and restaurants, bars and boutiques. The weather in Rome was also much warmer, lacking the cold sea breeze that was blowing in Naples. I might have enjoyed my time there, but I wasn't particularly sad to leave it.

It took us a while to find our hotel, conveniently located, but well-hidden, just off of Piazza Navona, in the centre of Rome. In fact, it wasn't a hotel, but a sweet, on the fourth floor of a little appartment. It was quite the exercise to bring our luggage up the little winding staircase.

Piazza Navona

I was itching to do a little bit of exploration from the moment we arrived, so as soon as we had settled in, I went back down the four flights of stairs and went for a nice walk, loosing myself in the twisting little streets, in and out of the throngs of tourists who fill up the area.

I came back to our room to wake up my dad, who had been taking a nap, and we set out again, this time, to do a bit of sightseeing in our neighbourhood. Our wanderings took us first to the Pantheon, where once again I gazed agape at the gigantic 2000-year-old dome. After a short gelato break, we went to throw our coins into the Trevi fountain*, and climbed up the Spanish Steps to enjoy a panorama of Rome.

 In front of the Pantheon...

...at the Trevi Fountain...

...and on the Spanish Steps.

For dinner, we lost ourselves again in the little streets of Rome's historic centre, until we found a restaurant that was bustling, not only with tourists but also with locals. My dad had pasta with gorgonzola and I had a caprese salad and a porcini mushroom salad with copious amounts of parmigiano sprinkled on top. With that, we had some vino bianco and acqua con gas. Everything was delicious and the ambiance was wonderful, full of laughter and talk coming from inside and outside of the restaurant, and always with people waiting for a table.

Back at the hotel, I was so exhausted that I was out the moment I closed my eyes.

*Myth had it that those who throw a coin into the Trevi Fountain are guaranteed another visit to Rome.

Rambling in Ancient Ruins

Thursday morning I took the train down to Ercolano to visit the ruins of Herculaneum. Herculaneum was a Roman town, like Pompeii, that got buried under 15 to 18 metres of mud and volcanic rock after the eruption of Mount Vesuvius in 79 AD. Herculaneum lay forgotten until the 18th century, and by the time they started excavating, there was already a new town built on top of the old one, so that still today, only a third of the town is accessible. The other two thirds remain buried deep under the modern city.

A thermopolium – an ancient Roman fast-food joint, where food was kept warm in dolias (terracotta jars) to serve to customers. A popular condiment for many dishes was garum, a salty, fermented fish sauce.

Closeup of a dolia from another McGarums

A beautiful wall mosaic showing Neptune and Amphitrite.

An ancient advertisement for alcohol

Mount Vesuvius with a strategically placed cloud looming over it