Temple of Vesta, Rome

Temple of Vesta

“Rome living was the world’s sole ornament, and dead is now the world’s sole monument.” — Edmund Spenser, Ruins of Rome

via Sacra

The ruins of Rome lie scattered throughout the city, a few of their intricate details still in place, but mostly fragments of a once greater whole.

Temple of Saturn

Temple facades stand along the remaining streets of the Forum, proud and resolute against the passing of time.

Colosseum

Symbols, attractions, ornaments, marvels, wonders of the world…

sky above the Roman Forum

They will emerge with the dawn for another day, and another, long after we’re gone.

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coffee

On my first morning in Rome I went to a bar on via Merulana for an initiation into the Italian-style colazione of capuccino e cornetti. There was a bustle of activity as patrons coasted in and out and staff plucked pastries from display cases to the tune of the gurgle and steam of the espresso machine. The coffee cups were diminutive in size, the coffee itself rich and strong and a little bitter.  I dropped a packet of sugar into my macchiato, stirred it up a bit, and took a sip.  Delizioso.

Over the course of our Italian journey, Matt and I sampled caffè and macchiatos and cappuccinos in Rome and Florence and Milan, and even a caffè freddo in a small bar in Assisi; this slushy iced espresso drink was the perfect jolt of caffeine on a warm, sunny day. In Italy the variety of coffee was relatively limited: you could get coffee, or coffee with milk, or coffee with foam, or coffee with a touch of alcohol, or chocolate, or con panna (whipped cream). Those were the choices, and you couldn’t go wrong because they were all good choices.

I wish that was true of life in general. Read the rest of this entry »

In the 1996 film ‘Traveling Companion’ (Compagna di viaggio), a young woman named Cora is hired to follow an elderly man, Cosimo, suspected of having dementia. Cosimo’s daughter is worried about him and wants to make sure he doesn’t get lost on one of his seemingly pointless trips around Rome, but since he’d balk at having someone accompany him, Cora must follow him undetected.

He doesn’t visit the Colosseum or the Spanish Steps or Campo dei Fiori, he doesn’t stroll up the Aventine Hill; there’s nary a picturesque piazza in sight in the course of his wanderings. Cora grows irritated as they move from one random outpost to another, but behind her impatience there is growing curiosity. One day she follows him to Termini station and watches, panicked, as he boards a train out of town. Where is he going? Must she follow? Read the rest of this entry »