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We arrived in Rome's Termini station early in the afternoon. From the station, we walked out to the right, then made a left on the street, at which point we were completely soaked through with sweat. The weather forecast online had said 84, with 60 percent humidity. Local signs said it was 90. I'm sure the 60 percent humidity was correct.
Like the tourbooks said, Rome was overrun with cats and Vespas. The Vespas did not have to stop at red lights, which was fine, since there didn't appear to be any anyway (no crosswalks or lanes, either). We just scooted across the street whenever it seemed convenient, and hoped the cars/buses/scooters would stop, or, at the very least, miss us. Which, to their credit, they usually did. Or they honked and swerved around us at 30-60 mph. Either way, we didn't get hit.
It was a 15-minute walk to the hotel, where we arrived hot and sweaty and tired. Stefano, the manager, greeted us warmly.
"You are wearing that jersey?" he said, grimacing in Eric's direction. "I'm sorry, we are full. Completely booked."
Eric was wearing a jersey from the team in Milan. He told Hari to get out her Rome jersey, so that we could get a room. "It will do no good," he said. "I am a Juventus fan."
"My father likes Roma," Stefano continued. "You come back when he is here, he will let you in."
He never said "just kidding," although he got down a key and indicated we should follow him.
He opened our room door. "And I like this room, too," he said, disappointed. "You do not deserve it."
Eric went in and changed his shirt, and came back out. "I appreciate that," Stefano said, "but I cannot forget.
And he did not.
He did, however, agree that the World Cup was fixed. "Did you see the game?" he asked rhetorically. Then he complained about the Spanish media. Evidently, when the Italians lost and started complaining about the obviously terrible referees, the Spanish said they were just whining. Then when Spain lost the next week, for the same reason (the reason being that the games were fixed), Stefano said that all the Spanish media stations started saying their game was fixed.
Eric asked him the best place to buy a Juventus jersey (downtown) and his favorite player, who Eric had never heard of, and why he liked a team from Turin if he had always lived in Rome. He said it was because one of the hotel guests was from Turin once, and took him to a game. Also, because it annoyed his father, who liked Rome.
"Sunday mornings," Stefano said, "we cannot be in the same room."
Eventually, we left to go sightseeing. It was hot. We went first to the Colosseum. In line, we were hit by squadrons of vendors selling 20 postcards for $1 and baseball hats with fans, and purses and watches.
When we made it inside, it was still hot, so we headed immediately for the shade. Most of the building is gone - hacked off by Christians building churches - but what's left was wonderful. The floor was partially uncovered, to show the maze of secret passageways underground, and part of it is covered with boards and sand. Since it was so hot, no one was out on the sand, except Eric, who is widely thought to be a lunatic. For proof, see the above pictures.
We proceeded to the Arch of Constantine, where we bought water, and the Arch of Titus, about 100 meters away, where we refilled our empty water bottles at a public drinking fountain. It was still hot. At the Arch of Titus (remember the really weird movie, with Anthony Hopkins?), we joined up with a free English tour of the Forum. The guide was efficient, shuffling us into the shady spots to point out the various temples.
In one temple, the emperor's much-loved wife died. He convinced the senate to make her a deity, then built a temple to her. When he died, and was deified, the senate made the temple for both of them - the first couple to have a temple together. They did this, the guide said, to save money. She showed the spot in the pediment where the senate had simply added a new line, so instead of "The Temple of ___," the wrote in on top, "The Temple of ___ and..."
She then led us past the Temple of Vesta, the spot where Julius Caesar was cremated and the Temple of Castor and Pollux. At the Senate building, she told us stories about Caligula and Nero.
Modern psychologists say the Roman Emperor Gaius Caligula, whose four-year reign in Rome was ended by an assassin's knife in the back, had either schizophrenia or encephalitis. His horse, the honorable Incitatus, was burdened only with ambition.
Caligula feared the Senate was plotting against him. So he made Incitatus a senator. Unfortunately, Incitatus turned on him, and Caligula was forced to have his horse beheaded.
Caligula's nephew, the famously cruel Nero assumed the throne a few years later. He was also a famously bad musician. When he died, he supposedly said, "Oh, what a great musician the world is losing." While he lived, he would lock people in a room to force them to listen to him play the violin. Women supposedly faked labor to get out of the room. Others faked death.
Hari was delighted. Every time Eric starts singing now, Hari casually suggests, "You could just lock people in a room."
From the Forum, we went through the former prison of St. Peter (dark and earthy-smelling) to Michelangelo's Piazza with an infinitely fun fountain that, when plugged, sprays you in the face with water (hard enough that you can't really drink it, but boy does it make good pictures. It also surprises the tourists).
The Vatican museum, like the Vatican itself, was into the whole size thing. It's the museum to end all museums, and it ends with the Sistine Chapel. Worst of all, they didn't have air conditioning. Concerned citizens ought to write to the Pope about this one.
The other problem with the Vatican museum was the tour groups. They moved in literal stampedes - two to three groups at a time, marching in unison behind a forceful guide who strode across the museum like a flag-bearing general. They rallied 'round at strategic points, blocking pathways, staircases and halls, and staring with zombie-like intensity at their leader. There were no breaks - we watched for minutes as they surged up the stairways, regiment after regiment.
After much dodging and weaving (going through tour groups is like trying to get through a bus station on a Vespa), we made it to the Sistine Chapel, no thanks to the signs, which point right and left and both say "Sistine Chapel."
At Hari's suggestion, we will include a description of actually seeing the chapel, since she seems to find it relevant:
The ceiling was impressive.
On our way to dinner, we saw a mob of kids (teenagers) screaming and yelling at someone with a microphone on a stage. We walked over and found ... Italian MTV. Broadcasting live with MTV's "Total Request Live." Playing American/British songs.
Also, there were cats in the ruins.
In one Internet café in Valencia, the kids were all sitting around playing Diablo II online while the café blasted Green Day and Stone Temple Pilots. I asked the guy at the counter why he didn't play any Spanish music. "Our music sucks," he said. In Italy, TRL was playing the Red Hot Chili Peppers and other videos.
We left the MTV crowd (and everyone else) for the full moon over the forum. Perched over the Senate building, we watched the moon rise directly out of the Arch of Titus. The ruins were slightly backlit, making the deserted Forum look like a cemetery. Out in the middle, about the spot where Julius Caesar was cremated 2,000 years ago, a shadowy cat went hunting around the ancient marble tombstones.
