I am not sure why I continue to write these blog posts when there are only four people who read them, and I am pretty sure those four are people I talk to regularly. But, who know? One day, I may be famous and this blogspot will be read by millions who want to see my “early work.”  So, with that in mind, I shall recount for you four readers the tale of my day trip to Rome on Wednesday.

First, let me say that the trip was an idea I had even before planning my trip to Italy. I decided to change text books in the middle school for next year. The new book is called ‘Suburani’ and follows a working class family living in the slums of Ancient Rome. I received my examination copy in May and started reading. There are lots of pages dedicated to the culture and geography of the ancient city. I thought that I needed to refresh my Forum pictures and visit some other notable sites, such as the Circus Maximus, to complement the information in the book. I also wanted to visit the newly opened Mausoleum of Augustus. 

As soon as I arrived to Castel del Bosco, I put “ROME?” On my calendar  for 30 June. The Italian government was rescinding the outdoor mask law on Monday, 28 June, so the 30th seemed like a well chosen date. As I started researching how Rome works in the times of COVID, I discovered that EVERYTHING requires a timed entry ticket. And, many of those tickets are sold out. The mausoleum of Augustus, the Domus Aurea and the Ara Pacis all were not available and would not be available until well after my departure from Italy.

I began to doubt whether it was even worth it to go. But, the more I doubted, the more I told myself that I would be sorry if I didn’t try. So, I bought my train tickets first. I would take the treno regionale from San Miniato-Fucecchio to Firenze Santa Maria Novella at 8:09. I would take the 9:05 Freccia Rossa high speed train to Roma Termini. I booked the return for 18:40 and would do the trip in reverse.

I then began to look at tickets.  It seemed that the only sure thing was to get the 12Noon entry into the Forum-Colosseum basic ticket. So, I booked it and figured I would spend the rest of the day walking around. Rome is best seen on foot (or on a hop on hop off, which I did not see even one of).

On Tuesday overnight, I received news of my cancelled flight and I stayed up until almost 3AM reorganizing my travel. When the alarm went off at 6:45, I was exhausted. I, however, hoisted myself out of my bed and got ready to embrace the day. I was in by car by 7:30 and on the road to the train station, 15 minutes away.  I parked my car in the satellite lot and walked the few minutes to the station. I was there a good 10 minutes early. I was pleased to see so many commuters, albeit masked, ready to travel to Florence. The last time I was on the train was when I was going to meet Chiara and was accosted by the two vu’compra’ guys who were later arrested for aggravated assault and rape of women on trains upon arriving to Florence. To say I was nervous about train travel was an understatement and COVID had nothing to do with it.

The train came on time, despite having received a message from Trenitalia that they would be 6 minutes early. We made the trip quickly and without incident into Firenze. I bought a soda and boarded my next leg, also uneventfully. The Freccia Rossa had me pulling into Rome at 10:46. I opted for the base premium ticket (60 euros) which gave me a comfortable seat with a table and a place to plug in my phone. I also was offered a snack and a safety kit. I turned down the snack but took the safety kit. I was far too curious to say no. Other than sanitizer and a mask there was also another thing which I have no idea exactly what is is. It looks like it is a nose plug…

Upon arriving, I set my watch to exercise mode and set off on my mission. I was resolved to walk the whole time, no public transport or hop on hop off. I wanted to treat it as a chance to exercise, as well, since I was missing my morning walk along via dei girasoli. I walked out of the station and straight down via Cavour which deposits you exactly in front of the Imperial Forum. I was early, but I took my chances. I approached the ticket counter and showed my ticket. I asked if I could enter the forum early. I was invited courtesy to go up the via Sacra to the gate and get temp checked. So, I did. 

I walked the Forum and took lots of pictures and videos. I even made the trek up the Palatine hill. I got a real appreciation for two things: 1- The Romans were no dummies. The temperature was a good 10 degrees cooler io there, with the breeze and the abundant trees. 2- The Latin for the Palatine hill is Mons Palatino. Mons being the operative word. Mons means mountain. The Romans regarded it as a mountain. I always tell the kids that the Romans were fibbers and exaggerates because it is just a hill, not a mountain. But, in the heat, it sure felt like I have summited Everest!

Upon descending from on high, I exited the Forum and made my way around the backside of the Forum to the Circus Maximus. The Circus is open for tours to the tune of 15 euros. I opted to take pictures from outside the fence. I walked further down the interior side of the Circus and ended up in front of the Forum Boarium. I took pictures of those two iconic temples and made my way further to the Theater of Marcellus, another favorite spot. 

If you take a left into the narrow streets just beyond the Theater of Marcellus, you enter into the Jewish ghetto. I wandered the street is for a good while until I found myself looking for signs for the Pantheon. My favorite ice cream in the whole world is in a gelato shop just to the right of the Pantheon. I was ready for ice cream, rose flavored ice cream. Before reaching my next destination, I stumbled upon Piazza Navona or better known to my Latin 2’s the Stadium of Domitian. 

I stopped for a quick pic and soon I was inside Cremeria Monteforte ordering my gelato, but not after gushing to the man behind the counter how much I had been dreaming of this gelato and how I had come from Tuscany, indeed America, for this ice cream. I paid my 2.50 euros for my small cup and went immediately to my spot along the wall next to the Pantheon. This area was where the Ancient Romans voted; it was the old Campus Martius and was technically outside the sacred pomerium. I ate my gelato and imagined the people of yore assembling to cast their votes. 

After my gelato, it was time for lunch, right? I walked out of the piazza where you find the Pantheon and walked straight for 2 minutes. I found a small restaurant that had my favorite pizza on the menu (marinara). I entered, asked for a table for one and sat down. I ordered immediately and commenced people watching. I noticed that the majority of those around were natives. There were a handful of international priests and even fewer tourists. I saw one group of three women (they appeared to be from NJ) and one pair of American students. The other tourists I saw appeared to be German or Dutch. Usually, you cannot throw a rock without hitting a loud American looking for a hamburger. This year, no one.

It took almost 45 minutes to get my pizza. And, when it came, I was certain I had chosen well. It was certainly now frozen. I ate as much as I could, paid my bill (14 euros for the pizza and two coke zeros), and set back on my way. 

At this point, I was exhausted. I had walked 6.28 miles in the blazing sun. I had done all I had on my list (with the exception of walking the Subura) and decided to turn my steps back to the train. I decided that I would just change my ticket. There was a 15:10 train and I could just make it. I reset my watch and registered another 2.46 miles back to the Termini. Jerry called and FaceTimed with me almost the whole way. It was nice to have company on my walk.

I got my ticket changed (4 euros to change it) and got on board just in time for departure. I was hot, sweaty and exhausted. But, I was happy. It was a great day. I fully appreciate how lucky I am to be able to say, “hey. I want to go to Rome. Just for the day…” I am glad I didn’t let my doubts get the best of me.

Last minute flight cancellation

The night before I go anywhere, I have trouble sleeping. Last night was no exception. The anticipation of the journey was compounded by the heat and the fact that I had just talked to Jerry and was feeling a little homesick. 

I listened to two consecutive Peloton sleep meditations to no avail. I was anxious. I couldn’t still my mind and sleep. The phone buzzed a couple of times with bothersome texts and even one robocall. 

Finally I was calm. Then: bzz…bzz. I was back up. I turned the phone over and saw a message from British Airways. My flight on the 14th was canceled. No reason. Just canceled. They advised me to look at the flight they had chosen as an alternative. I did and to my surprise, the flight was moved from Linate to Malpensa. That would mean I would have to cancel my hotel and arrange the car drop off. A lot of hassle. 

It got me thinking. What if BA cancels again and I get stuck here? What if this is a sign? I Immediately checked to see if it would be possible to move my departure date up without penalty. Sure enough, it was going to let me. I quickly chose the flight leaving Malpensa on the 8th, a direct American Airways flight into JFK. This was the one I came in on. The onward flight would take me to DCA, from whence I came. 

Still uneasy, I changed my hotel from the Novetel Linate to the Sheraton Malpensa. Next, I called Kemwel to ensure I could drop the car at Malpensa. Elizabeth assured me it would be fine (got to love Kemwel -q.v. earlier post from 2010). Flight, hotel, car. All in check. One last detail: the covid test. 

I opened the state.gov site and read that a rapid antigen test within 3 days would suffice. I found a drive through place at Pisa airport that does them for 40 euros. Scheduled and paid. 

I felt a wave of calmness rush over me. I was completely organized, scheduled and ready to go. I drifted off to sleep effortlessly at close to 2:15 am. 

I woke, refreshed, at 6:15, ready to embrace my day in Rome. I got dressed, brushed my teeth and went to the station for my 8:09 train. 

 Every once in a while, I find there is something I have never seen or something I didn’t know existed. The fact that Montelupo has an archeological museum and, apparently, a Roman villa was news to me. Montelupo is the city of ceramics, and the home of Eugenio Taccini, the maestro who created all of my pinochios (see earlier post on the story of the Pinocchio and the Carabiniere painting). I haven’t been to Montelupo since 2012 and I thought today was as good a day as any. I would start my trip by going to the museum of ceramics. I went back in 2002, when there was a huge night festival of ceramics and the museum was open to the public. But, in the intervening years, it has moved into a much bigger and more impressive building.  The ceramics on display are largely the same, however.

I drove to Montelupo, a short 20 minute jaunt down the Fi-Pi-Li towards Florence. I parked and walked about a block to the museum. Upon entering, I was greeted, cheerfully, by two girls working the desk.  I announced I wanted one regular ticket. I was asked if I qualified for discounts (again with the discounts). After I explained that I am American and quite certain I don’t qualify for any reduction on the 5 euro ticket, I was presented with a pamphlet explaining all of the museums in the area and invited to go upstairs to see the collection.  I explained that I am a Latin teacher from America and was very interested in the archeology museum. The second girl said that I was in luck because she believed it was open and that I should save my ticket because it will get me in there, too.

I trudged upstairs and went through the collection. It isn’t terribly extensive and it was, as I said, not changed in 20 years, just in a different case. I kind of wish I had gotten the audio guide. Anyhow, I exited the museum and went to my car. I was on a mission, because I was quite sure the archeological museum would be better. And a Roman villa!

I drove the 7 minutes, following the GPS dutifully. It deposited me in front of a church. It was at that time that Jerry called to check in. I sat in the air conditioned car (it was 36C outside) for a few minutes and chatted. I wasn’t sure if the museum was in the church or nor, so I went on my way to investigate.

I soon discovered that the museum was a few minutes walk down the road, surrounded by a lovely park. I bet in March, when it is 65 degrees and misting rain, it is absolutely heavenly. But, in June at 95 degrees, it is less pleasant. I found my way to the front of the museum to discover that it is, in fact, NOT open today. It is not open most days. 

At least I have an email address to contact to arrange a visit to both the museum and the villa. I will keep you posted on that front. But, after being a bit disappointed by the museum being closed, I tried my luck with visiting Taccini’s studio. It said it was open until 7pm. I had plenty of time. I walked back to the car, parked in the church lot, and plugged the address into the GPS. Although I had a vague idea where it was, I was not sure I’d drive directly to it. 

5 minutes later, I found myself parking my car by the River Pesa and walking into the pedestrian borgo that is the home to several ceramicists and artistic ventures. Taccini is just on the left.

As you can see. Maestro Taccini was not there. He did, however, leave a telephone number. But, I am not about to call him. I hate the phone in any language. So, I gathered my sad self and went back to the car.  Where to now? It was still on the early side so I decided to try the Prada outlet in Fucecchio. I checked the internet and it said “open until 7pm” and plugged the address (via F. Magnella, 5) into the GPS. 

20 minutes later, I was turning onto the familiar street. I had been there a number of times before. I parked the car and looked for the entrance. No entrance. I walked up and down and there was no way to get in without being buzzed in. That was kind of the last straw. I decided to look on the internet again (what would we do without cell phones?) and get the number. I was going to call. As much as I hate to speak on the phone, and in Italian!, I sucked it up, swallowed my fear, and called. The phone range twice and then went to a message: questo numero e’ inesistente. That means, they have closed up shop and turned off the phones! Ugh. Incredibly disappointed.

I decided it was time to bring it on home so I got back in the car and went the back road from Fucecchio to Santa Maria al Monte. The road went quick. I soon found myself at the traffic circle in front of my grocery store, the Coop.  There is a clothing store I have enjoyed before, called All Goods. It is in a building constructed from shipping containers. I decided to stop there. I got out of the car (there seemed to be cars in front) and approached the door. It was closed. Lights off. Doors locked,

I tried to take a picture, but my phone evidently didn’t want to because when I sat down at home to review my day’s pictures, I noticed it was not there. I guess it is just par for the course today. 

 On Saturday, I was looking for something to do which did not entail driving west. West is the sea and all roads leading west are gridlocked with traffic.  So, I figured I would take a drive to Siena and have a look around. 

I put “Siena” into the GPS, nor because I didn’t know the way, but because I love to see the ETA on the Car Play. The drive to Siena from Castel del Bosco is always round about an hour and a half, whether you take the highway, the back roads, or a combination of the two. A solid 90 minutes.  So, you can imagine my surprise to see the ETA showing 1 hour and 11 minutes. There is a new road between the Fi-Pi-Li and Certaldo that shaves 20 minutes off the trip. And, it is a gorgeous road, at that, full of tunnels and wide, pristine blacktop. I found myself back on the usual road quickly and then onto the Fi-Si, the Fi-Pi-Li’s slightly prettier cousin. 

At the 1:11 mark precisely, I was exiting onto the Siena Nord ramp and into the familiar roads that would take me to my old apartment at Madonnina Rossa. And, sure enough, as I approached the traffic circle, my beloved polincino (little bus), the exact kind from which I had tumbled and subsequently landed me in the hospital for a week, was sitting at the bus stop, seemingly waiting for me.  But, today was not the day for me to ride the short bus into the city, I would drive myself to the San Francesco parking lot at Porta Ovile and take the escalator inside the walls.

I took some pictures of my old building. My neighbor still had the same car parked in the spot next to my old one (which sat empty). I always thought that car seemed old even then, in 2006. But, I guess if you don’t drive a lot, your car lasts longer.

I parked my car in the pay lot (2euros/hr) and noticed that the car park, which in a normal year would have been completely full, was not even one fifth full. My car sat alone in its spot. I bid farewell to my Lexus Hybrid and made my way across the street to the escalator. I exited the “station” and walked across the piazza where San Francesco sits. A couple of nuns, masked, sat on a bench praying the rosary. 

I walked quickly to the main road, the Banchi di Sopra, where many familiar sights met me: the Monte dei Paschi di Siena branch where I opened my bank account, the piazza next to it where David Rossi, head of communications for the bank leapt to his death in 2013, the news stand where I often bought a magazine or newspaper. I went into the shop at the top of the road which sells products particular to the area. I picked up some souvenirs for friends back home and then headed toward the piazza del campo, the main square of the city.

Before I got to the square, however, I came upon the pizzeria where we always got a slice after class. It is usually closed for the holidays when I come to Siena. Today, however, it was open.  I entered, just to look. And, sitting alone, in the glass case, was one slice of my very favorite pizza, the sausage pizza. This sausage is shredded, almost into a powder, over top the pizza. I try to replicate this when I make pizza at home. But, it is never quite the same. I took it as a sign that i needed to get it.  I paid my 2.40 euros and took my pizza (not reheated) to the closest perch.  I sat just before the Piazza dei Pappi on the stone bench and devoured my pizza. It was every bit as good as I remembered it. 

After walked up to the top of the piazza to take a picture of where I fell of the bus, I headed into the piazza del campo. I walked toward the bar we always frequented back in the day: Birreria. It has changed its name to something else and the waitresses are all different. I didn’t think it was worth a seat. I went from there up towards the questura, where I had to report quarterly for my periodic police check in. It has not changed…

I went behind the duomo, taking a few pictures of the church and the museum complex along the way, to a ceramics shop. I replaced two of my small contrada bowls which I had broken. In the process, I saw two gorgeous platters with fish painted on them. I spoke to the woman behind the register about how to ship them.  She said she didn’t know much about the process and I said I would think about it.  They are hand painted and represent fish found in Lago Trasimeno. I may go back and get them and ship them myself. I have time to think about it.

At that point, I had had enough. I made my way back to the car, making a quick stop at Feltrinelli for a grammar book. I made it back to my car in just under 2 hours, so my parking fee was minimal. The drive home was as uneventful as the drive there, I made it back in the same 1:11. 

It was a great day, full of memories and emotions. I may make one more trip to Siena, if only to retrieve a fish platter!