peterbirks (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
peterbirks) wrote2010-06-13 11:39 am
peterbirks) wrote2010-06-13 11:39 am
Hiccups
I'd be lying if I didn't say that a few things had gone wrong. Hell, I anticipate this kind of thing, and I often go through the same process every time (Nice was a rare exception). But you have to visit a place the first time before you can visit it the second time. Often times (well, usually) there is no second time. I never want to see Cornwall again (or, if I am lucky, anyone who chooses to live there)for as long as I live. Most other places I am glad that I visited, even though being there at the time was little joy. I suspect that Rome will fall into that category. Only Las Vegas and Nice have been winners from the start.
Some of the problems are just bad luck. The flat is just a bit too far out of town; the air-conditioning is fucked to the extent that if I use it the floor gets soaked. And the place that the drip comes down is right in the corner, so I can't even put a large saucepan down. The cloths that I used yesterday ended up totally drenched. I'm on set two at the moment, drying the first lot out on the balcony. It's not too hot today, amazingly. I really ought to get out and about and visit things, but I don't feel that I want to. But I feel that I should. Internal contradictions. Stress.
On the "a bit too far out of town" factor. I decided to try to walk into the centre, thence to find Trinity College Bar to watch the football. If I tell you that I left at 6.15pm and found the bar 10 minutes after kick-off (at 8.30pm local time) you can probably see that I did not have a happy time of it.
One of things that I perhaps should have asked people who have been here before is if it's okay to walk places. Well, let me tell you. Unless you are in the middle of Rome, it isn't. It's impossible. The Italians don't walk anywhere and they don't believe in pavements. It's like a ramshackle Los Angeles.
Here's a typical example of the death-defying shit that I had to put up with on the way into the centre.
On the right is, presumably, a Roman wall that performed some function in ancient times. It's now the border of a large park. One that I should have walked through, actually, if I had seen an entrance at the right point.
For the first mile or so of my walk I had a "military zone" on my right hand side -- a typical Italian waste of valuable real estate, as far as I can see. So, the first three miles were not exactly visually appealing, although they were rather dangerous.
My route was basically taking me along Aurelia Antica to Janiculum Hill, although I was not aware of this at the time. As I cornered one bend I arrived at this "gate to Rome":
This is the "non-tourist" version of a similar arch nearer to the top of Janiculum Hill, Built in 1612.
I was trying to follow my Google Maps, since I was walking in from an area not covered by the Rough Guide or by local maps of the centre. The Google Maps are not compatible with the Rough Guide Maps: I have now discovered this.
I continued my by now hot and miserble walk. Fortunately I had loaded up on water, and I was drinking it at a pace on a par with work on the Cross-Trainer. By now I was actually getting concerned about missing the start of the football, so I failed to stop to take as many pictures as I would have wished. But eventually I found a place where it was impossible not to stop and take a few pix. This, I later worked out, was Janiculum Hill.
This is, I later discovered, the Paola Fontana, built from Roman marble at the beginniong of the 17th century, and recently restored.
It is also, therefore, a favourite spot for wedding photographs.
This is the view behind the happy couple:
And, to the left of the previous picture:
The newly marrieds then followed an ancient Roman tradition, playing "chicken run" with Rome drivers in an attempt to cross the road. Roman drivers are cunts, by the way. A frighteningly large proportion of cars have various dents in them, as the drivers become very brave so long as there is no real threat of physical danger. However, the second that you give a couple of abusive kids on a hair-dryer motorcycle the "stare" and indicate that, if they want some real violence, you are up for it, well, guess what, they vanish fairly sharpish.
I then followed a route down to the Trastevere, utterly lost and becoming increasingly depressed. At this point my right knee began to protest at the walks on cobblestones. Did I mention the fucking cobblestones? Jesus fuck. What kind of third-world shit-hole still makes you walk on cobblestones? Well, one where everyone apart form tourists is in a dented car or on a 50cc bike, I guess.
I didn't get to see much of the Trastevere as I walked the wrong way, hoping to find the River Tiber and a bridge, but being betrayed by a poor sense of direction. I stopped to take one picture to display the pedestrian-friendly nature of the place.
I finally found the Tiber, although my real misery was just about to start. Once again, I had to stop to take at least one picture.
This brought me to the Centro Storrico. Trying to find something with the help of only a Google Map and a Rough Guide map that's on a different scale and chooses to list the nes of different roads is not to be recommended in the Centro Storrico. Indeed I actually managed to take a wrong road and find myself back at the Tiber, looking across at Castel Sant Angelo.
By now I had been walking for about two hours (I'd anticipated it would take 75 minutes max) and I was hot, sweaty, lost and late. I wanted to go home to London, right then.
I was to get lost twice more in the Centro Storrico, just about bringing me to the verge of tears, before I saw, hooray! a main road, which I deduced correctly would be the Via del Corsa. I passed the legendary Palazzo di Montecitorio and the Piazza di Colonna (fuck! why do I find Italian so hard to spell!) without paying them much mind. By now, finding Trinity College had become something of a mission.
Of course, from the Via del Corsa end of things, that bit where Rome becomes "sensible" for just a short time, finding the bar was easy. Although at E4.00 for a Diet Coke that consisted of mainly ice might make one wonder why I had bothered. And I drank three of them because I was so dehydrated! And, of course, I missed the England goal, but was there for the USA goal. I actually got bored (particularly of the "college group" of Americans sitting in the corner, rather reminiscent of the "Spring Break" dicks you see in Las Vegas). There was one almost hilarious moment. The waitress asked a couple of girls (not part of the US group, who were at the next table) to move because there were another couple waiting to eat. The two girls obligingly moved, and, before the couple could sit down to eat, two of the US group zipped in to take the seats. Lol, explanation from waitress to bemused collegiates that, no, the seats had not been vacated for them. With somewhat ill-humour, girl moves back to the original table.
So I left 15 minutes before the end.
By now I had to work out how to get home. I estimate it's about three to four miles as the crow flies (a useless comparator in Rome anyway), rather than the three kilometres that I had anticipated. I had no idea where the buses left from, or, actually, what numbers they were. Of course there was a E20 taxi available if need be, but that's kind of giving up for wimps, isn't it?
I found the Tiber after only 20 minutes this time. This actually gave the opportunity for some picture-taking: Here's the Vatican from Pont d'Angelo. Can't remember exposure time. Somewhere between four and eight seconds. Although I had set the setting for "tungsten", there's still that annoying yellow effect. I'll remember to do the White-balance manual setting next time.
And finally there was Castel Sant'Angelo
On the north side of the river there was a market of small stall holders still in full flow, despite it being 11.15pm. It just feels to me that Rome has not got it right with, well, Rome. It has totally wasted the Tiber, walking along the banks of which is about as much fun as my walk to work through the City. And one of the high points of the city, the stretch from Palazzo di Giustizia to the Vatican, is, well, a mess. Car parks, small stalls selling tat.
And then one approaches the Vatican. I couldn't get a decent picture by night because the lighting is rather poor in St Peter's Square. And the route I had planned to take to Via Gregorie was blocked off. Fortunately it was a rather inefficient "block-off" (meant for car stopping rather than pedestrian stopping -- but pedestrians were just ignored).
The "alternative" route back would, I hoped, be less death-defying than the route in. But at this point I came upon a number of bus stops, and it looked to me as if at least one bus would take me close to where I wanted to go (I remembered the road "Bravatta"), but then I saw another with the magic "Pisana" and, as luck would have it, a bus turned up.
So I got home by about midnight -- earlier than I expected. Was probably overtire3d, but definitely was not happy. I'd left the air-conditioning on, so the flat was pleasingly cool.
Final annoyance: I've brought the wrong clothes. I don't think that, for me, there are any right clothes. Sunburn is too big a risk with knee-length shorts, and I just don't like sandals. As for flip-flops -- well, I have never worn them and I never will. But I should have brought the shorts that I have, just for relaxing indoors here.
Full days of going into Rome are just too much to contemplate, and I can't bear the thought of queueing forever to see the Sistine Chapel, St Peter's and the Dome of St Peter's. But I suppose I have to make the effort. Holidays that feel like work. Great.
_________________________
Some of the problems are just bad luck. The flat is just a bit too far out of town; the air-conditioning is fucked to the extent that if I use it the floor gets soaked. And the place that the drip comes down is right in the corner, so I can't even put a large saucepan down. The cloths that I used yesterday ended up totally drenched. I'm on set two at the moment, drying the first lot out on the balcony. It's not too hot today, amazingly. I really ought to get out and about and visit things, but I don't feel that I want to. But I feel that I should. Internal contradictions. Stress.
On the "a bit too far out of town" factor. I decided to try to walk into the centre, thence to find Trinity College Bar to watch the football. If I tell you that I left at 6.15pm and found the bar 10 minutes after kick-off (at 8.30pm local time) you can probably see that I did not have a happy time of it.
One of things that I perhaps should have asked people who have been here before is if it's okay to walk places. Well, let me tell you. Unless you are in the middle of Rome, it isn't. It's impossible. The Italians don't walk anywhere and they don't believe in pavements. It's like a ramshackle Los Angeles.
Here's a typical example of the death-defying shit that I had to put up with on the way into the centre.
On the right is, presumably, a Roman wall that performed some function in ancient times. It's now the border of a large park. One that I should have walked through, actually, if I had seen an entrance at the right point.
For the first mile or so of my walk I had a "military zone" on my right hand side -- a typical Italian waste of valuable real estate, as far as I can see. So, the first three miles were not exactly visually appealing, although they were rather dangerous.
My route was basically taking me along Aurelia Antica to Janiculum Hill, although I was not aware of this at the time. As I cornered one bend I arrived at this "gate to Rome":
This is the "non-tourist" version of a similar arch nearer to the top of Janiculum Hill, Built in 1612.
I was trying to follow my Google Maps, since I was walking in from an area not covered by the Rough Guide or by local maps of the centre. The Google Maps are not compatible with the Rough Guide Maps: I have now discovered this.
I continued my by now hot and miserble walk. Fortunately I had loaded up on water, and I was drinking it at a pace on a par with work on the Cross-Trainer. By now I was actually getting concerned about missing the start of the football, so I failed to stop to take as many pictures as I would have wished. But eventually I found a place where it was impossible not to stop and take a few pix. This, I later worked out, was Janiculum Hill.
This is, I later discovered, the Paola Fontana, built from Roman marble at the beginniong of the 17th century, and recently restored.
It is also, therefore, a favourite spot for wedding photographs.
This is the view behind the happy couple:
And, to the left of the previous picture:
The newly marrieds then followed an ancient Roman tradition, playing "chicken run" with Rome drivers in an attempt to cross the road. Roman drivers are cunts, by the way. A frighteningly large proportion of cars have various dents in them, as the drivers become very brave so long as there is no real threat of physical danger. However, the second that you give a couple of abusive kids on a hair-dryer motorcycle the "stare" and indicate that, if they want some real violence, you are up for it, well, guess what, they vanish fairly sharpish.
I then followed a route down to the Trastevere, utterly lost and becoming increasingly depressed. At this point my right knee began to protest at the walks on cobblestones. Did I mention the fucking cobblestones? Jesus fuck. What kind of third-world shit-hole still makes you walk on cobblestones? Well, one where everyone apart form tourists is in a dented car or on a 50cc bike, I guess.
I didn't get to see much of the Trastevere as I walked the wrong way, hoping to find the River Tiber and a bridge, but being betrayed by a poor sense of direction. I stopped to take one picture to display the pedestrian-friendly nature of the place.
I finally found the Tiber, although my real misery was just about to start. Once again, I had to stop to take at least one picture.
This brought me to the Centro Storrico. Trying to find something with the help of only a Google Map and a Rough Guide map that's on a different scale and chooses to list the nes of different roads is not to be recommended in the Centro Storrico. Indeed I actually managed to take a wrong road and find myself back at the Tiber, looking across at Castel Sant Angelo.
By now I had been walking for about two hours (I'd anticipated it would take 75 minutes max) and I was hot, sweaty, lost and late. I wanted to go home to London, right then.
I was to get lost twice more in the Centro Storrico, just about bringing me to the verge of tears, before I saw, hooray! a main road, which I deduced correctly would be the Via del Corsa. I passed the legendary Palazzo di Montecitorio and the Piazza di Colonna (fuck! why do I find Italian so hard to spell!) without paying them much mind. By now, finding Trinity College had become something of a mission.
Of course, from the Via del Corsa end of things, that bit where Rome becomes "sensible" for just a short time, finding the bar was easy. Although at E4.00 for a Diet Coke that consisted of mainly ice might make one wonder why I had bothered. And I drank three of them because I was so dehydrated! And, of course, I missed the England goal, but was there for the USA goal. I actually got bored (particularly of the "college group" of Americans sitting in the corner, rather reminiscent of the "Spring Break" dicks you see in Las Vegas). There was one almost hilarious moment. The waitress asked a couple of girls (not part of the US group, who were at the next table) to move because there were another couple waiting to eat. The two girls obligingly moved, and, before the couple could sit down to eat, two of the US group zipped in to take the seats. Lol, explanation from waitress to bemused collegiates that, no, the seats had not been vacated for them. With somewhat ill-humour, girl moves back to the original table.
So I left 15 minutes before the end.
By now I had to work out how to get home. I estimate it's about three to four miles as the crow flies (a useless comparator in Rome anyway), rather than the three kilometres that I had anticipated. I had no idea where the buses left from, or, actually, what numbers they were. Of course there was a E20 taxi available if need be, but that's kind of giving up for wimps, isn't it?
I found the Tiber after only 20 minutes this time. This actually gave the opportunity for some picture-taking: Here's the Vatican from Pont d'Angelo. Can't remember exposure time. Somewhere between four and eight seconds. Although I had set the setting for "tungsten", there's still that annoying yellow effect. I'll remember to do the White-balance manual setting next time.
And finally there was Castel Sant'Angelo
On the north side of the river there was a market of small stall holders still in full flow, despite it being 11.15pm. It just feels to me that Rome has not got it right with, well, Rome. It has totally wasted the Tiber, walking along the banks of which is about as much fun as my walk to work through the City. And one of the high points of the city, the stretch from Palazzo di Giustizia to the Vatican, is, well, a mess. Car parks, small stalls selling tat.
And then one approaches the Vatican. I couldn't get a decent picture by night because the lighting is rather poor in St Peter's Square. And the route I had planned to take to Via Gregorie was blocked off. Fortunately it was a rather inefficient "block-off" (meant for car stopping rather than pedestrian stopping -- but pedestrians were just ignored).
The "alternative" route back would, I hoped, be less death-defying than the route in. But at this point I came upon a number of bus stops, and it looked to me as if at least one bus would take me close to where I wanted to go (I remembered the road "Bravatta"), but then I saw another with the magic "Pisana" and, as luck would have it, a bus turned up.
So I got home by about midnight -- earlier than I expected. Was probably overtire3d, but definitely was not happy. I'd left the air-conditioning on, so the flat was pleasingly cool.
Final annoyance: I've brought the wrong clothes. I don't think that, for me, there are any right clothes. Sunburn is too big a risk with knee-length shorts, and I just don't like sandals. As for flip-flops -- well, I have never worn them and I never will. But I should have brought the shorts that I have, just for relaxing indoors here.
Full days of going into Rome are just too much to contemplate, and I can't bear the thought of queueing forever to see the Sistine Chapel, St Peter's and the Dome of St Peter's. But I suppose I have to make the effort. Holidays that feel like work. Great.
_________________________