{"id":17,"date":"2009-12-08T19:05:00","date_gmt":"2009-12-08T19:05:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.katebailward.com\/drivinglikeamaniac\/?p=17"},"modified":"2011-04-03T12:16:27","modified_gmt":"2011-04-03T10:16:27","slug":"roman-holiday","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.katebailward.com\/drivinglikeamaniac\/2009\/12\/roman-holiday\/","title":{"rendered":"Roman Holiday"},"content":{"rendered":"
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\"\"<\/a>(Amusing graffiti in Trastevere, Rome)<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

Total spend of somewhere around 300 euros, seriously aching, blistered feet, nearly 20 hours on long distance coaches, and some really dreadful photographs.\u00a0 So was my trip to Rome worth it?\u00a0 Hell, yeah!<\/span><\/p>\n

My weekend starts in a dark, rainy coach park.\u00a0 The coach is scheduled to arrive at 8.20pm, which it duly does.\u00a0 It doesn’t say Roma on the front, though, which confuses me.\u00a0 I ask another passenger.\u00a0 ‘Per Roma<\/em>?’\u00a0 ‘Forse<\/em> …?’ he replies, with a slightly quizzical look.\u00a0 I decide to ask the driver, who confirms that this is the coach I should be getting onto.\u00a0 I therefore do, and settle myself down for the 10-hour journey ahead of me. \u00a0Half an hour or so later the driver makes an announcement.\u00a0 I’m not really listening, but luckily the man sitting next to me (who, by chance, is the one who I spoke to in the car park) is more on the ball.\u00a0 ‘Roma?<\/em>‘\u00a0 he asks.\u00a0 ‘Si<\/em>,’ I reply.\u00a0 ‘Cambiamento qui!<\/em>‘\u00a0 he replies, with a slightly frantic look.\u00a0 Turns out that the coach doesn’t, as I had thought, go straight through to Rome.\u00a0 This one, in fact, goes to Pisa, approximately 260km north of where I want to end up.\u00a0 Thank heavens for friendly passengers, is all I can say.\u00a0 I’m sure Pisa’s lovely, but it would have been an awfully long way from my bed for the night.<\/span><\/p>\n

The coach pulls in to Rome Tiburtina at just before 7 the next morning.\u00a0 I stagger blearily to the nearest metro station and thence to Termini, where I grab overpriced coffee, croissant and city map.\u00a0 Looking at the map, my hostel is the opposite side of town from Termini.\u00a0 However, I decide that I might as well start as I mean to go on and walk.\u00a0 It’s the start of a beautiful day in Rome, and the fresh air helps to clear my head.\u00a0 I wander happily, taking in Quirinale and Via Corso along the way, and setting my bearings for the next three days.<\/span><\/p>\n

Arriving at my hostel in Trastevere, I climb the narrow stone steps to the second floor.\u00a0 As I do so, I surprise one of the staff, having a crafty cigarette out of the window.\u00a0 Clearly, the guests don’t usually come up the stairs.\u00a0 She gives me a cheeky grin and waves me through the door, pointing out the lift as she does so.\u00a0 I take her hint and don’t use the stairs for the rest of my stay.\u00a0 (Actually, that has more to do with my aching feet than anything else, but that’s by the by.)\u00a0 I check in at reception, and am told that my room isn’t ready yet, as I’ve arrived very early.\u00a0\u00a0 I therefore dump my bags in the luggage room and go off for a wander around Trastevere, armed with the map that the hostel gives me which is, annoyingly, far better than the one I’ve just paid \u20ac2 for at Termini.\u00a0 Ah well. <\/span><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>Wandering happily, it’s hard to stop grinning like a loon.\u00a0 This is the image of Italy that I’d hoped to see when I first moved here.\u00a0 It’s all narrow, cobbled streets, with vine-covered walls, and interesting things around every corner.\u00a0 The views of the city from Gianicolo are also – well – breathtaking.\u00a0 I am, to be fair, very tired from 10 hours travelling and little sleep, but it’s hard to stop a lump rising in my throat as I reach the Independence monument and read about Garibaldi and his troops, resisting the French.\u00a0 The inscription on the side of the monument reads:\u00a0 ‘Roma o Morti<\/em>‘.\u00a0 The memorial itself is a beautiful piece of sculpture, all clean marble lines and symmetry.\u00a0 Janiculum Hill nowadays is peaceful and quiet, but it must have been somewhat different in the years of the war of independence, and the contrast is poignant.<\/span><\/div>\n

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After the emotion of the war memorial, I decide to head into the Centro Storico<\/em> to see some of the more classic sights.\u00a0 Campo di Fiori is everything that an Italian market should be.\u00a0 It’s bustling with people, and has fascinating stalls at every turn.\u00a0 I make up my mind to come back later, for Christmas shopping opportunities.\u00a0 In fact, I never manage to return, as I am so busy cramming everything else into the short time that I have in the city.\u00a0 Ah well.\u00a0 There’s always next time. <\/span><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/div>\n

Carrying on, I reach Largo Argentina, which is a very bizarre place.\u00a0 In the middle of a busy modern square, surrounded by traffic, there is an area of Roman remains.\u00a0 So far, so usual in this city.\u00a0 However, as you get closer, you notice that the place is absolutely crawling with cats.\u00a0 (In fact, you notice the smell first, but that’s by the by.)\u00a0 Turns out that it’s given over to a cat sanctuary.\u00a0 The thing that I found so fascinating about it is that the cats quite happily just hang out in the Area Sacra<\/em>.\u00a0 There are no fences, and nothing to stop them from leaving.\u00a0 However, they choose to stay there.\u00a0 I felt an eerie sense of something pagan and ancient at work, keeping the cats there to protect the old temples.\u00a0 I know – I’m a crazy cat lady.\u00a0 So shoot me.<\/span>
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(All images by Kate Bailward<\/a>)<\/em>
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