I have spent the past few days hanging with the Romulans (those are Romans for you non Star Trek types). I am generally a Greekist (yes, and a geekist), but after my first visit to Rome just over a year ago, I fell in love with the city; it definitely does not disappoint. And with 27 centuries of history under its toga, how could it? The plethora of sights around the city is staggering, and the best part about them is how jumbled and unstratified they are. You have the palace where Mussolini riled his fascists in 1942 sitting kitty-corner to where Julius Caesar was betrayed and killed in 44BC, which is just down the street from where Nero played the lyre while Rome burned in 64AD, which is just over the hill from where Romulus and Remus (abandoned by their poor vestal virgin mother (cuz she was gonna be buried alive no thanks to their good-for-nothing dad Mars)) met their lupine mammy in 753BC, which is a dagger’s throw away from the spectacular 80AD Colosseum. And all of this is just over the river from the centre of the Catholic world and their extravagant cathedrals bursting at the buttresses with high art.
A low key highlight for me was the memorial in the house where English poet John Keats died of consumption at the tender age of 25; his ‘romantic’ death robbing the world far too early of a wonderful poet while simultaneously catapulting him into fame. The small, simple house is filled to the rafters with old books and sits beside the glorious Spanish Steps, in an area where you can buy all the high fashion you could possibly imagine (which is wonderfully ironic given the simple romanticism of Keats’ life).
Outside of Rome, life has included a bus ride to Siena (Florence’s fabulously Gothic rival with medieval palaces and cobblestoned streets) through breathtaking autumn views, with patches of rusty-amber interspersed with all the greens from musky olive to verdant, surrounding vineyards clinging to impossible inclines; as well as an art historians fantasy buffet in the largest collection of Renaissance art this side of the Milky Way. The ninjas have definitely represented: Leonardo (who, like a true genius, often seemed to have trouble completing something before he got distracted with a new project; but even his unfinished works are masterpieces), Donatello (with his moving statue of John the Baptist), Raphael (personal painter for the popes) and Michelangelo (who could really look after all of your interior design needs; he paints ceilings, designs staircases and plazas and even chisels extraordinary sculptures out of single marble blocks every now and then); as have many who just missed the ninja cut: Botticelli (whose Birth of Venus is absolutely stunning seen in the flesh), Caravaggio (whose vividly dark realism was amazing) and countless others with their superbly gruesome scenes of martyrdom and their ethereal tributes all things biblical and mythological.
Now, I am usually reverent when it comes to art and especially respectful of religious art, but when I happened upon a painting of a very pale and blond baby Jesus, I turned to EB and exclaimed (in a private voice) "Look at how white Jesus is!" Unfortunately, a very not-amused couple was within earshot. I wanted to tell them that he was just far too pasty for a wee Nazarene lad, but I held my tongue and they tried their hardest to bore through me with their glares of malevolence each and every time we ran into them (which was far too often).
Possibly the biggest highlight of the week came last night when I finally killed the pair of mosquitoes (or possibly just one zombie mosquito) that had been plaguing us the past 5 nights.
Since I got to Italy, everyone assumes I am Spanish (apparently I look swarthy) so tomorrow, EB and I are off to Barcelona to look for my people.
I hope everyone is doing well.
Worwickers: I hope you’re having fun with the Christmas Production prep.
Family members: I will see you in 2 and a half weeks!
North America dwellers: try to get rid of the snow before January for me.
Aman: Find us some Guinness in Dakar!
Love,
Jen
Clan of the Travelling Black Gold Update: Stops for the jacket have included: the Ancient Roman Senate, the Colosseum, the grave of Julius Caesar, The Vatican, the Sistine Chapel (well just outside, because you can’t take photos inside), and a statue of Bacchus (the Roman god of liquor!).
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