Rome
Initially we’d planned to fly directly from Amman to Rome. Instead we flew back to London, had a day washing clothes and drinking decent beer, before heading to Rome the following morning. It proved both simpler and cheaper.
Our flight was stupid o’clock in the morning and before public transport was alive – happily the taxi to Heathrow and the flight to Rome were uneventful. We danced through customs and, with Sus armed with a coffee, caught the train into Rome. There was a change which we handled magnificently. Until, as we emerged from a tunnel, I pointed out there appeared to be a lot of green bits and not a lot of concrete bits. Rome, it seemed, had moved. We were going the wrong way.
For a stomach falling/cold sweat inducing few minutes we feared the train might be headed to the coast before stopping. A coast is always welcome though a tad inconvenient with our hotel to be found in Rome. Mercifully stop it did and we were able to arrive in Rome with pride just about intact. That little detour had taken us 2 hours.
It was raining in Rome. We trudged through our latest ‘hood finding it attractive if a tad damp. Our self catering apartment was on the third floor of a charming 19th century building. The street door was open, the door to the apartments of which one was ours, was not. We rang the doorbell until an Irish lad staying in one of the other apartments kindly let us in. And told us where the keys were. We were missing a text explaining the process. The apartment was lovely, as was our apologetic custodian.
It was still raining, we were hungry. Be.Re. sold craft beer and Trapizzino – a fusion of pizza, pie and tapas. Sounds awful, tastes delicious. We sat outside (undercover), drinking craft beer, scoffing Trapizzinos and watching Rome wander past. Perfect.
The rain had stopped and, somewhat reluctantly, we got of our mildly sozzled backsides to explore. We wandered into St Peter’s Square with the looming Vatican and amusingly dressed Swiss Guards. By the river was the imposing Castel Sant’Angelo. Built originally to house Hadrian’s Tomb Castel Sant’Angelo was later converted into a fortress, a papal residence, a prison and an execution ground. We didn’t go in, we will next time.
I love motors and motorbikes. To my absolute delight a procession of perhaps 50-60 mostly vintage Ferraris chuntered past. I slobbered embarrassingly, sus admired serenely.
Then the rain started up. And then became heavier. And then became torrential. We bravely waited it out under a shop awning. Walking back, we discovered a high street a few minutes walk from our digs. Excitingly there was also a small supermarket – we popped in and bought some goodies.
We’d enjoyed that first half day in Rome. It got better.
We ate breakfast at a local bakery and, getting down with the locals, stood up. Departing our neighbourhood we zig zagged, partly by Sus’s internal satnav and partly by the less organic Google Maps, towards the river Tiber. We meandered past the striking though not old Supreme Court, strolled across the Tiber and wandered into the rather grand Piazza Navona. Built on a Roman Stadium the piazza now boasts Baroque and Renaissance architecture still maintaining the original Stadium’s contours. Fountains, churches and tourist multitudes feature. It’s quite beautiful. Even some of the tourists.
Another stroll found us in front of the gorgeous and stunningly preserved Roman Pantheon. It’s free to enter, we did and it’s fab.
Next a giant obelisk (easy tiger) – the Column of Marcus Aurelius. The Romans, it transpires, had a bit of a thing for obelisks – there are several scattered randomly across the city presumably leaving many an empty hole in Egypt.
We kept walking arriving at the tourist teeming Trevi Fountain. Sus threw in a coin and made a wish, I didn’t preferring the relative solitude of a few feet away. Onto and up the Spanish Steps, taking a few moments to admire the view.
The Vittoriano is a colossal mountain of white marble that towers over Piazza Venezia. Constructed in the early 20th century it now houses the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. It’s a tad ostentatious with as many locals hating it as loving it. Detractors will point out this marble monstrosity overshadows the Forum. We both quite liked it.
The following hour or so was spent wandering, at street level, around the utterly magnificent afore mentioned Forum. We walked under the Arch of Constantinople, around the Coliseum and through the ancient theatre. Spellbinding. Genuinely spellbinding.
A random zig and a random zag, through several attractive neighbourhoods, conveyed both back to our hotel. Freshened up, and after a couple of cheeky halves at Beer Time, we went in search of sustenance, specifically an Osteria we’d previously spotted within easy reach of the hotel. Unfortunately we’d misplaced it.
Happily, we soon discovered another Osteria – Ragno D’Oro (http://www.ragnodoro.org/). Ragno D’Oro was very busy primarily, or so it appeared at first (and second) glance, with Americans. This is a sure sign that 5 people had rated it 5 stars on Trip Advisor – not always a reliable indication of quality. Thankfully the food, house wine and service were all splendid.
It had been a long, long day. I don’t remember many, whilst travelling, we’ve enjoyed more.
Naples
Following a breakfast of bananas and cake (a generous doggy bag from Ragno D’Oro) we headed to the train station and Naples. The journey was a tad over 2 hours. And yes we did go the right way. It’s considerably more expensive taking the quicker train (1 hour 20 minutes). Your credit card will squeal in pain.
Naples does not have the greatest reputation and initial impressions certainly did nothing to dispel this. From the ultra-modern, nearly finished, train station we walked through an edgy, graffiti covered and trash filled neighbourhood. Our hotel, on the border, was friendly and clean. The maintenance chap warned us to be vigilant. Marvellous.
The old city (Spaccanapoli being the main drag) comes with steep, narrow and crowded streets, shops seemingly intent on selling tourist trap crap and restaurants specialising in fast food. However, the old city happens to be a UNESCO World heritage site boasting wonderful 16th, 17th and 18th century architecture. It might be tourist teeming, graffiti garnished and trash trashed but it does exude a certain exuberance and charm.
We probably spent a couple of hours exploring the old town finding a cathedral, a steep street crammed with shops selling exactly the same awfulness and, in the name of balance, a lovely little place selling organic gelato. We briefly wandered into, via one of the original town gates, the new town. Which was still old.
The clumsily titled Oak Wine and Craft Beer, Oak to its chums (https://oaknapoli.com/), was located on a side road just inside the old town. And presumably still is. It was a friendly spot; we popped in a couple of times and sat outside watching a tiny slice of Naples slither past. Italy has a burgeoning craft beer scene (as so many countries do) so it’s not difficult to drink the local brews. However, there were a surprising number of well known British craft brewers represented in the beer havens we visited.
Back at the hotel our en-suite poo palace wasn’t working properly and never was to. The owner, showing no great desire to fix our rogue loo, offered the somewhat public toilet in the breakfast room. Both our digestive systems immediately seized up. Though not ideal, there was a bathroom just outside our room, which became our haven for all matters digestive.
Surprisingly the shower was excellent. As was the breakfast. And on leaving the owner, to compensate, paid our city tax. Fair enough.
Pompeii
The following morning we caught a packed train to Pompeii, our chief reason for visiting Naples. Excited travelers can pay at the actual site entrance or use the ticket kiosk in Pompeii station. We chose the latter, and for 2 extra Euros each, we were able to avoid the queue at the entrance. A very, very splendid thing as the queue was massive. In peak season the queue doubtless starts in Rome.
Cobbled streets are beautiful, incredibly hard waring and a right pain to walk down. Evidently our Roman chums had yet to buy into the concept of accessibility. We lurched down the main cobbled drag peering into dwellings akin to peering into peoples’ houses when lights have been left on and curtains left open. And hoping no-one peers back. That would have been particularly disturbing in Pompeii. At the time of its lava bath Pompeii was a thriving, bustling and economically wealthy town. In the quieter streets, you’re still left with an impression of Pompeii and its people 2,000 years ago.
As one nears the coliseum tourists are able to intrude into, and not just gape into, one particular dwelling. Do so. The luxury would not look out of place today.
The coliseum, for such a relatively small town, is designed to impress. And so it does. There is a small museum/large display close by that houses some beautiful painted plasters rescued from the main sight. Our usual zig zagging guided us (kind of) through the town proper. And into the imposingly large main square with its 2 substantial temples to Apollo, columns and preserved bodies. The latter a haunting spectacle even with the crowds.
Initially, we were a tad underwhelmed by Pompeii. The blame lies firmly with Rome and Jordan. It’s only now, a month since our return, I’ve realised and understood what an incredible place Pompeii is – was.
Once safely back ensconced in Naples we headed to Chiaia. Toledo names both the nearest metro station and the principal, pedestrianised shopping thoroughfare. This affluent seaside neighbourhood is made up of rather grand 16th and 17th century architecture – highlights include the gorgeous Galleria Umberto and imposing government edifices. Chiaia is home to upmarket stores and boutiques, a large park where one can watch the cruise ships struggle to avoid each other and posh restaurants and bars. It was a genuine surprise and in utter contrast to the old town. Never fret, the real Naples was never far away.
A little behind this conspicuous consumption is the Quartieri Spagnoli neighbourhood often called the real Naples. Created in the 16th century to house the Spanish Garrison, Quartieri Spagnoli is a blend of narrow, sometimes steep streets and, though visited by many a tourist, very much residential with numerous local restaurants, bars and stores – not dissimilar to the old town but cleaner with a greater local, almost community, feel. Some reviews tell wide eyed tourists not to go. It’s nasty, unsafe and not worth the effort. Bollocks. Give Quartieri Spagnoli a whirl, be vigilant as you would be in any other city, and you’ll be pleasantly surprised.
Despite its name, and located on the water, is the striking Castel Nuovo. Originally constructed in the 13th century, enhanced in the 15th century and tinkered with throughout its long life, the Castel Nuovo truly is a magnificent beast. The castle is still in gainful employment to this day hosting cultural events and housing the Municipal Museum. Unfortunately time and hunger had both overtaken us and we were not able to fully explore.
The Osteria Carmena (http://www.osteriadacarmela.it/) was our chosen foddering hole that evening. The proprietor kindly squeezed us in, those arriving minutes later weren’t so lucky. We felt special. The food and wine were both excellent.
A 45 minute walk returned both to our hotel and non-functioning toilet. Bed seemed to be the best option. Naples is not Rome. Or Venice. Or Florence. Naples is very much Naples standing a little apart from these uber tourist cities. It is dirty, perhaps a little menacing and undoubtedly edgy. Please ignore the doomsayers, get off your cruise ship and give this fascinating place a twirl. You won’t be disappointed. We certainly weren’t.
After another lovely breakfast and equally lovely shower we headed back to Rome arriving early afternoon. We’d wanted to stay in those same self catering apartments but, a tad unsporting, all were booked. We checked into (just) our latest home in the upmarket Flaminio neighbourhood close to the Piazza Del Popolo before, once again, meandering meanderings.
We spent a happy hour discovering Villa Borghese Gardens – the Villa Borghese Gardens are now an expansive park – before continuing our Rome explorations including our lovely latest ‘hood. Literally around the corner from our hotel was, yep, yet another beer place. Sus was only mildly suspicious. Art Beer was a bottle shop (no taps), cosy with a fantastic range of splendid beery loveliness. Relaxing in foreign climes, imbibing beer, watching the world go by knowing it was less 5 minutes back to our hotel, made me very happy. Cue smug selfie. Our only gripe – the bartender appeared more interested in the, albeit attractive, young lady in the crèche opposite.
Once freshened up we strolled perhaps 3 doors down from the apartment to our restaurant of choice. The food was again excellent, Sus’s favourite though my choice was still Ragnor D’Oro. The wine was perhaps the best we sipped. The restaurant was again full of Americans – being European (just, at time of writing) one might accuse Americans, unfairly (Jazz, Blues anyone?), of a lack of culture. Whatever you might believe the buggers certainly know where the best grub is.
We slept into 9am the next morning. We’d forgotten check out was 10am. It all ended happily and, because our flight home wasn’t until late, we spent several hours wandering wanderlessly. Highlights included discovering the remains of 4 stunning temples (Largo di Torre Argentina) handily placed for all to see in the middle of a large road junction; the stupidly ornate 17th century Palazzo Muti Papazzurri; the beautiful Basilica di Santa Maria in Trastevere; the non-working Fontana dell’Acqua Paola compensated by fabulous views back over Rome.
Sus, who had by now become a little obsessed with obelisks, ushered us to the dramatic Circo Massimo to admire the oldest one of its kind in town. Alas, Sus had only read half the article she’d unearthed on Google. The second half of said article helpfully pointed out this particular obelisk had been relocated.
Regretfully the airport and flight beckoned. We popped back to the apartment, stretched, weed and picked up our bags. We were back in our West London flat before 11pm.
Italy happens to be blessed with an annoying number of beautiful cities. Rome is without doubt, our favourite. It’s both a working city and beautiful city something none of the others combine as well or at all.
We loved the place. Paris or Rome? Rome without hesitation.
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