Rome

I want to write this down before Rome starts becoming one big beautiful blur in my head.

We saw the Rome we wanted to see, without feeling pressured by a list of what we should be doing.

Because in Rome, you almost don't need a list. History finds you. You turn down some random little street and there are ruins sitting right there. Walk into an unassuming church and there is a Michelangelo, a Raphael fresco, or three Caravaggios.

It started to feel like you could throw a stone in Rome and it would land on something epic.

So we stopped trying to seek everything out. It was hot and we stayed in the shaded alleyways, avoided the worst of the sun and the crowds, wandered into little stores and had conversations with the people inside. We stopped for food when we wanted to, ducked into churches because they were quiet and cool, and generally let Rome come to us.

In the extraordinary Vatican Museums, Raphael's Rooms were a highlight for me, especially his frescoes. I loved the idea of rooms devoted to enormous areas of human thought - philosophy, theology, justice and poetry. And then there was Michelangelo and the Sistine Chapel - I mean how can you even process the talent of this great master in one visit. It is beyond my capacity. The day left me completely exhausted with almost too much to absorb. At one point my only thought was: too much beauty to behold.  I now know that it would be the greatest thing ever if life can give me a chance to enjoy the Vatican museums in solitude, with a chair and a notebook. 

But some of my favorite encounters with art happened outside the Vatican. We would walk into a church—sometimes simply because it was quiet and cool—and suddenly there was a Michelangelo. Or a Raphael fresco with hardly anyone else there. 

There was no crowd pushing us forward, no timed entrance, no feeling that we needed to get our photo and move along. We could just stand there quietly and look at something created by Michelangelo or Raphael, almost by ourselves.

Then there was Caravaggio at San Luigi dei Francesi. We found his three paintings of St. Matthew together in the Contarelli Chapel: The Calling of St. Matthew, St. Matthew and the Angel, and The Martyrdom of St. Matthew.

I had never seen a Caravaggio in-situ. Especially one this close and no one to break the solemnity of the moment. 

I think those moments of solitude with Michelangelo, Raphael and Caravaggio may be what I remember most about Rome. Great art wasn't separated from life and displayed in a museum. It was just...there inside the churches and spaces it had been created for.

 

We also took the train out to Orvieto for the day, which fit the rhythm of our trip perfectly.

The hill town, the little streets, the spectacular cathedral—it was beautiful, but again there wasn't a sense that we needed to accomplish anything. We could simply wander.

 

Food was just woven in to the days - we ate at Armando al Pantheon and Il Pagliaccio, two completely different experiences, and otherwise stopped wherever the day took us. 

 

We even found same day tickets for Aida. It was an outdoor setting at Circo Massimo and the music of Verdi was almost too much to behold.  

Mostly, though, I remember the walking. When I travel, I like stepping into local independent book stores to chat with the book sellers and ask for what locals would enjoy in their city. That and sitting in cafe people watching. We stepped into Otherwise (book store) and Minerva (hotel) that had a spectacular cafe that reminded me of The Plaza in NYC.

A random old Corinthian pillar in the bookstore.

I think what I loved most was that Rome never seemed to demand that we go looking for its history or beauty. It was everywhere, layered into ordinary life.

We just had to slow down enough to notice it.