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A Letter from Italy |
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An idyllic vacation in Rome
with Joyce, Bill & The Pope
of TheColumnists.com
A Roman Holiday: Romance, three coins in a fountain, gorgeous churches, love on a Vespa. That's how my husband, Bill, and I have always pictured Rome. We decided to go there to celebrate being romantically married for 40 years. Rome would also be holy ground, as we were both raised Catholic. So, we would be pilgrims as well as athletic-shoed American tourists.
As I write, I have the
joy and relief of having survived four days in the Eternal City.
We had some amazing experiences that stack up high in the experiences
of our 40 years together. They began as our Lufthansa plane began
to descend over Italy. The
setting sun sent shafts of rays through puffs of clouds that
turned the landscape below into one big masterpiece of hillside
vineyards, villages, and the long gray edge of the Tyrrhennian
Sea. It was as if the Creator was blessing this land whose son,
Michelangelo, also knew the joy of creation and whose other son,
Dante, could provide a vision of Paradise because he had known
an idealized love this side of it.
We arrived in Rome at night
and woke to a view of russet apartment houses with green shutters
around the courtyard below us. When we cranked open the bathroom
window, we looked out at the Vatican right next door.
Then we went outside to cross the street. The show was better than anything the Romans could have watched in the Colosseum.
Every driver is a road
warrior. Mini-cars (Opels, etc.) and Vespas play a game of wits
and the Vespas usually win. But those on foot do even better.
Like a ballet, they know when to step lightly back, pirouette
to see the vehicle headed straight for them,
even leap aside. On one Disneyesque taxi ride I was sure our
driver was about to squash a puppy. But the young girl who held
him on a leash quickly jerked it and the pup got out of the way
as if he'd had this obedience lesson every day.
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ones riding Vespas seem to be winning the war. |
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Another surprise: We walked into St. Peter's Square and who should join us but the Pope. It was his day for a public audience and he rode in, smiling and waving. We were delighted that despite his frailties he still seems to enjoy people.
We were simply overwhelmed by the scale of things in the Vatican and by finding detail in every inch of surface--floor, walls, ground. But out of all that hugeness and the power it conveys, I was most moved by the delicate, exquisite Pieta. How could Michelangelo have know what grief looks like when he was only 23? How could he make marble become human?
Bill and I will have much
to recall later on when we sit over candles and chianti, but
a few other moments will come to mind as part of our special
time: Dinner al fresco in front of the softly lit Pantheon, enjoying
gelato with the others who live in the
neighborhood of our small hotel, and visiting the Aliens Department
of the Polizia di Stato.
We did indeed meet a pickpocket
on the grafitti-covered metro at rush hour when everyone was
hellishly packed together. Bill lost his wallet. Since we had
to make a police report in order to make things right with Visa,
off we went to the central
police station. A young officer with an Uzi guarded the entrance.
We made our way to the proper office and filled out a form with
questions in English and Italian. On the wall was a picture of
Michael the Archangel conquering Lucifer.
"Finished," said the officer when Bill handed him the form. "I don't speak English."
Dante couldn't have done better in his darkest mood.
But I love Rome. I marvel at the way that past and present are part of their everyday lives. They are surrounded by the most magnificent art and culture. They can smile and rip you off. The good, bad and the ugly also form part of the life they accept.
Romans, I salute you!
Now we prepare to rent a car to see the rest of Italy. Bill will
drive an Opel Corso. Will he show me, after 40 years, that
deep beneath his calm Germanic demeanor lies a fiery Roman soul
just waiting to be released once we we hit an Italian road?
Travel is so full of surprises.
© 2002 by Joyce Kiefer.
The illustrations are from IMSI's Master Clips Collection, 1895
Francisco Blvd. E., San Rafael, CA, 94901-5506, USA.
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