When in Rome

Yet another 'Just Back' entry

When in Rome

The Daily Telegraph advised: ‘Visit Rome in December: it’s empty; the Christmas decorations are fantastic.’  So we did.  The Japanese also read the DT – they’re all here too.  An American arts graduate in the Vatican, suffering from an excess of progesterone (plump; acne) addresses her little flock: ‘You gotta take a train ride to Florence, it’s an hour and a half.  Go see Michael and Jello’s ‘David’.  He’s got all four things I love in Renaissance art .’  I crane forward to hear.  ‘He’s old; he’s male; he’s nude (pronounced nood) and he’s gorgeous’.  By getting there very early we reach the wonders of the Sistine Chapel before anyone else apart from the security guards.  It is magnificent.  And it’s not only Michelangelo.  Perugino, Botticelli,Ghirlandaio and others painted the walls.  Marvelling at the nous of Pope Julius II, who in 1508 signed contracts with Raphael to decorate his walls and Michelangelo to paint his ceiling, we step reeling out of the Vatican fortress eight hours later and walk home.  The passeggiata in Rome in December is as popular as at any other time, despite the cold.  It allows the ladies to show off their furs and in the upper reaches of Via Condotti, designer label street, it’s impossible to move.  Even the roast chestnut seller is trying to move on his customers so that more can buy.  Early next morning to avoid the queues (entry to St Peter’s Basilica requires airport-like screening) we are back with only the sincerely religious for company.  A priest wearing a tabard like D’Artagnan, and long brown riding boots walks by; it’s hard not to suspect he is a character from the Da Vinci Code.  Our chosen route today includes a Caravaggio hunt, and twenty churches ranging from the simple early Romanesque to ornate baroque splendour.  The apotheosis of the latter is the Chiesa del Gesu – the Jesuits’ church – with it’s extreme trompe l’oeuil ceiling.  So great was the Jesuits’ pride in displaying the fruits of their worldwide success a wit remarked that in the Jesuit church, the letters IHS stood for ‘Iesuiti Habent Satis’, ‘The Jesuits Have Enough’.  A beautiful cold but sunny day allows us to range from Garibaldi, literally on his high horse on the Palatine Hill, to the Borghese gardens.  Despite the magnificence of Bramante and Michelangelo in St Peter’s, and the gross marbled tiers of the monument to Victor Emmanuel II, Rome is the city of Bernini, in all his elegance – the Piazza Navona, the angels on St Angelo bridge, the Trevi fountain;  the list seems endless.  But what of Ancient Rome?  Apart from the obvious Coliseum, with ‘ancient’ Roman gladiators standing around waiting for photographs looking like Sid James in ‘Carry on Cleo’, most of it is still in a layer some twenty to forty feet below ground, though there is plenty to keep the average tourist happy.  Oh, and I haven’t had time to mention Roman food – but you don’t need me to rub it in, do you?

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