Palazzo Farnese

Rome has had some very changeable weather over the last few days.

See yesterday's sunny blue skies, as I made my way back to Trastevere after school:

Along the Fori Imperiali, my daily school walk - yesterday

At the moment (Wednesday evening) the rain is pouring down, and looking from my window out to the Piazza Sant’Egidio I can see very little activity – everyone is indoors.  The bar downstairs, the Ombre Rosse, is deserted.  This is extremely unusual, as the bar is a favourite with the American students who attend the John Cabot Uni just down the road.  None of the street sellers have set up their stalls, and the tarot guy, who is usually just opposite my window, has disappeared.

Piazza Sant'Egidio, deserted

Tonight I’ve been out to see the Palazzo Farnese, the renaissance palace that sits in one of the (to me) most beautiful piazzas in Rome, the Piazza Farnese.   Built for the Farnese pope John III in 1517, and designed and modified by Antonio da Sangallo the Younger, Michelangelo and Vignola over the 16th century, the Palazzo is now occupied by the French Embassy and is not generally open to the public. But it is possible to book a tour through Rome Cultural Association at inventerrome.com.   Tours are in French, English and Italian.

Piazza Farnese, Palazzo Farnese to the left

At night, from the piazza, you can look up into the lighted rooms of the Palazzo and see the frecoes, but tonight, as part of a smallish group (25 of us) I got to see some of them firsthand.  The incredible Caracci Gallery was open for viewing, and this was lucky, as it's about to close for two years for restoration.  The frescoes, The Loves of the Gods, cover the arched ceiling with stories from Bacchus and Ariadne, Venus and Anchises, Pan and Diana, amongst others.

Carracci Gallery, Palazzo Farnese

Our tour of the Palazzo also included the courtyard and the gardens that front the Via Guilia, and some of the loggias and reception rooms of the renaissance building.  It was fantastic to look down on the piazza from the first floor of the Palace, and into the depths of the fountains that are usually above eye level. 

School continues well, with our class remaining stable over the last two weeks, which means we are able to progress faster, rather than having new students join us – which often calls for a recap.  There are six of us at the moment, and we headed out last night for Korean food, with our teacher Claudio and his sister, her very well-behaved smiley baby, and Claudio’s girlfriend.  The food was sublime – we tried just about everything, led by Chiara, one of our fellow students.  It seems usual to eat Korean food in Rome, but this restaurant has a great reputation, even amongst the Italians (who prefer their own food to other cultures).

Gainn Korean, Rome

Afterwards, I took quite a long walk back to Trastevere, after stopping off in Monti to see the fantastic apartment of another fellow student, Tamara, who is here for three years with her diplomat husband.  Their apartment overlooks the Forum of Nerva, and from their tiny balcony, you can look down the Fori Imperiali and see the Colosseum.  It was absolutely magical by night.

 

Palazzo Massimo

After completing  week two of my course, I headed down the Via Nazionale to visit the national museum, the Palazzo Massimo, late last week.  I was particularly was interested in seeing the frescoes from the Villa of Livia, wife of Augustus – the emperor who ruled after Julius Caesar and famously changed Rome from a city of brick, to one of marble.

Livia Drusilla has always been a shadowy historical figure – devoted third wife of Augustus, mother of the dreadful Tiberius, staunch upholder of the family values instigated on the Roman populace by her husband.  In her house on the Palatine Hill - rarely open - there are still fragments of mosaic floors and frescoes to give a sense of the opulence and beauty of her surroundings.  But to experience the refinement and detail of these frescoes, you can see her Painted Garden, the partly submerged room from her villa on the outskirts of Rome, at the Palazzo Massimo. Archaeologists believe the room was used as an escape from the summer heat, and have found evidence of underground water pipes that probably carried water to a central fountain. With its shadowy greens and blues, abundant flora and fauna (all seasons are in flower here) it no doubt gave a beautiful sense of shady coolness and peace.

In the late 1800’s the room was lifted in its entirety from the Villa of Livia to avoid damaging the frescoes from encroaching damp, and it was an incredible undertaking to reconstruct the room, to the same dimensions, on the top floor of the Palazzo Massimo museum.  You can sit in the centre of the room, and look at these 2,000 year old paintings and just wonder at the skill and ability to render such wonderful perspective by the artists of the day.

See the reconstructed room in this video (with breathy commentary!).

You could happily spend days in the Palazzo museum – and along with the regular exhibitions, currently there is a special exhibition of Monsters. Fantastic Creatures of Fear and Myth from the ancient world – the collections of sculpture, jewellery, mosaics and frescoes are fantastic.  But the other great things to see in this museum are the relics from the ships of Nemi, those pleasure boats sailed by Caligula in the first century A.D. on the shores of this volcanic lake 30km south of Rome.

These boats were enormous – 240 feet in length - and the technology was most advanced for the time.  It’s thought the ships were built solely for recreation, incorporating sculpture, mosaics, hot and cold bathing, and even rotating platforms.  A year after their construction, they were stripped of their valuables and deliberately sunk after the assassination of Caligula.

In 1927, a fantastic undertaking to recover the ships involved draining the volcanic lake into nearby farmlands.  Ordered by Mussolini, a combined effort from the navy, army, industry and private contributions saw the first ship break the surface of the lake in 1929.  By 1931 the second ship was uncovered; unleashing 500,000 cubic metres of mud and causing 74 acres of the lake floor to subside. 

The ships were displayed in a museum on the shores of the lake, and tragically destroyed in the Second World War by fire, purportedly by the retreating German army. Some material, stored in Rome, can be seen today in the Palazzo Massimo.

Of particular beauty is the bronze handrail to the first ship, with alternate busts of gods and goddesses.  And the incredible medusa head in bronze, so finely worked you can see the flowing lines of the hair, and the lines of the face. 

Underneath Rome

What to do when it’s raining in Rome?  Head underground.

The streets have been awash the last few days – it hasn’t rained all that heavily, but it has rained consistently, which means any time spent walking in the open results in sodden shoes, wet clothes and minimum photo opportunities.  I mean, who wants to take photos from under a dripping umbrella?

Looking towards the Palazzo Farnese, raining

Wet weather is a great opportunity to explore the Rome that lies underneath the surface.  It’s certainly drier, and at this time of the year there’s also the likelihood of having any underground site to oneself.  At least, that’s been my experience over the last few days.

A little further along from my apartment in Piazza San Egidio is the Church of San Crisogono, built in the 4^th century and, as is usual here in Rome, built again – over the existing structure – in the 12^th century.  As Christianity in the 4^th century was off to a shaky start under the Emperor Constantine, churches consecrated at that time began as private houses and were converted to public places of worship.  So, through a heavy door (that was shut behind me as I descended - quite disconcerting) it is possible to descend a spiral staircase to find the rounded form of the 4^th century apse, with a shrine to the martyr Saint Crysogonus in the centre.  

San Crisogono apse

As I’m finding with all multi-level churches, the lower structures can be quite difficult to distinguish, as foundations to support the upper churches have altered the structure and symmetry of the earlier buildings.  It was tricky to explore the lower church of San Crisogono and make out where the church ended and where the remains of the private houses began.  Here and there sarcophagi were dotted about –from an intricate marble sarcophagus from the 2^nd century with maritime themes, to some smaller terracotta sarcophagi below frescoes, now heavily faded and almost undiscernible, from the 6^th century.

San Crisogono sarcophagus

I have to say, it was very spooky down in the depths of San Crisogono.  The structure twisted and turned, and I had this horrible feeling I’d get lost in the maze and be unable to find my way out.  Thankfully, in the murk and gloom I did relocate the iron stair and made my way up into the modern church without any grief.  And very pleasant it was, too, to stand in the middle aisle of the church and hear the roar of traffic, and see daylight outside.

A little further along, and escaping today’s rain, I made my way over to San Nicola in Carcere, another church which hides ancient structures underneath.  In this case, however, those structures are three Roman pagan temples from the Republican era:  the earliest being the Temple of Janus Bifrons from 260 B.C.  Under the altar, marble steps lead to a vaulted crypt, and sharply to the left, a narrow arch leads to the first of the three temples, with walls of solid tufa blocks.   I’m particularly fascinated by legends associated with the middle temple, to the mother queen Juno Sospita, in which annual offerings were made by virgins to the holy snakes bred in a cave by her shrine.  Any refusal of the food by the serpents was considered a bad omen and required the girl’s sacrifice.  What an incentive to make those offerings palatable..

San Nicola middle Temple

The exterior of San Nicola is surprising, too, in that it was constructed around the ruins of a Roman forum, with columns from ancient sites incorporated into the façade of the church.

San Nicola exterior with Forum columns

Weekend

At the end of my first week at school, and to begin my weekend, I headed back over to Monti on Friday night to watch a Paolo Sorrentino-directed film, ‘Le Conseguenze dell’Amore’ with fellow classmates.  Sorrentino has just won the Golden Globe for best foreign film “La Grande Bellezza”.  The school showed the ‘Le Consequenze’ film (produced in 2004) in-house, with Italian subtitles to help us along in our comprehension and it was a great opportunity to listen and madly try to read subtitles for those bits of the dialogue that were just too difficult to follow.  I’m now a great fan of Toni Servillo, the Italian actor who has starred in both films in the major role.  La Grande Bellezza opens in Aust on January 23, so go and see it – it’s a marvellous story of excess, lost opportunity and reflection.  And Rome sparkles beautifully throughout.  And if you don’t get to see it, you can borrow my DVD J

See the link to the trailer here.

 

On Saturday, our teacher Claudio took us on a tour of ancient Rome, leading us through the history of the Colosseum, showing us the Gladiator School in the environs of the Colosseum (half exposed, and half buried under a modern road), and on to the church of San Clemente.  I visited this church with Claudio this time last year when he also led a tour, and it was fantastic to see how far my language has progressed – now I understood most, if not all, of the dialogue.  And of course, the three-level church is a wonderful place to visit: first century houses, and a Roman Mint, on the first level; a fourth-century church, complete with frescoes, on the second; and the ‘modern’ 11^th century church at ground level.  It’s thought that the first century houses were destroyed partially by Nero’s fire, the one that enabled him to build his Golden House on the Equiline Hill. 

 

So after what has felt like a fairly-intense week, with lots of language study and conversation (but not too much homework), I wrapped myself up in many layers (see selfie below, taken in my apartment!) and ventured out today to visit San Pietro in Vincoli, in Monti.  Vincoli because this church holds the double set of chains (vincolo = tie or bond) : believed to be those sets that bound Saint Peter during his imprisonment in Palestine, and later, in Rome.  And according to legend, when these chains were brought together, they fused miraculously. 

 

The church is also famous for Michelangelo’s sculpture of Moses, intended for a much larger memorial to Pope Julius II (40 statues for the Pope’s mausoleum!).  Julius II dragged Michelangelo off to work on the Sistine Chapel for some years, and the project was partially abandoned.  However, the Moses statue is an incredible work of sculpture, completed when Michelangelo was a young man.  I’m amazed at how muscle, the drape of cloth, and the texture of skin and hair can be reproduced in marble.

On the climb up to the Church of San Pietro in Vincoli, your walk takes you through the arch below the house of the Cesarini, where the mother of Lucrezia Borgia lived, and where her brother Giovanni set out after dinner with his mother, subsequently to be found murdered near the Tiber.  At this time of the year, the vines that cover the façade are bare but it must be spectacular when they are in leaf in the Spring.

I finished today with a walk through the Jewish Ghetto, past the lovely Piazza Margana, where relics of old Rome are imbedded in the wall of an 18^th century palazzo.  And where a 21^st century scooter is parked today, naturally.

 

At Scuola Romit

I’ve been at school for two days and I love it.

Aside from, that is, having to set my alarm for 7.30 am (when it’s just getting light here in Rome) to be out the door by 8.45 am.  My morning walk takes me past the cat sanctuary on the Largo Argentina, through the Piazza Venezia (where Mussolini raved from his balcony in the Palazzo), and on to the massive white marble “typewriter” of the Vittorio Emanuele Monument.  The Romit school is in Monti, the rione I blogged about last week, and in an area that’s bordered by Trajan’s Forum, and further along, the Colosseum.

The school is in a little street, the Via del Boschetto, and the Via is full of eateries, bars, artisan shops and other small businesses.   It’s very tempting to get side-tracked in the morning into stopping at one of the many cafes for yet another coffee.

My teacher, Claudio, taught me last year at the Leonardo da Vinci school and he was my favourite, having a genuine enthusiasm for teaching, for the Italian language, for history – and he has a marvellous sense of humour.  In the middle of last year, Claudio left the Leonardo school to set up his own business with three friends, also teachers - the Scuola Romit.   This is the four of them on the Italian Abbey Road  equivalent - the Via del Boschetto.  Claudio is on the extreme right. 

My class (there are three, and sometimes four, classes running concurrently) has another four students besides myself – an American, a Venezuelan, a Vietnamese and a Croatian.  We range in age from the oldest (me) to a twenty-something journalist who is here to live with her family. 

We start each day with some informal conversation, and Claudio eases into the lesson with lots of asides into Roman history (for example, the significance of Roman numerals, why the “quartiere” is named so, how Latin became Italian, and so on).  By 11am everyone wants a break, and we head out for coffee and try to stay talking in Italian as we walk.  After around 20 minutes we’re back for some grammar via our textbooks, and some practical exercises.  Today we used the past tense, the imperfetto to sort out our individual truths from lies (i.e. ‘When I was young I was..’,  ‘Every year my family …) – a great way to reinforce speaking naturally.

I'm particularly loving that there's very little homework - 15 minutes at most :)  Because I Skype via the online community 'Conversation Exchange' every week, I'm using this forum to practice speaking as I learn.

So at the end of today I went out to find a SIM card for my phone.  I am very happy (thrilled really) to say I did this totally in Italian.  I find myself less shy these days in taking the plunge and just speaking, rather than trying to form perfect sentences in my head first.  I’m managing to make less mistakes, and have become quite disciplined in watching the Italian news every night, and looking at the news headlines on line every morning.

I still have a way to go, but I have to say, I think I might just actually get to fluency. 

Spero di si (I hope so).

Lazio

It’s odd  how few travellers make their way into Lazio, the roughly-central region of Italy (close to the kneecap, if you remember your “Italy kicked Sicily” mnemonic ), of which Rome is the capital. People are perhaps too intent on reaching Florence, or Siena, or the hill towns of Tuscany and Umbria.

Anywhere from 45 mins to an hour and half around Rome are some fascinating places to visit, including the ancient necropoli and ampitheatres of the estruscans, the fortified hill towns of the romans, and the mediaeval churches and basilicas of the 12^th and 13^th centuries.  There are inland lakes, papal palaces, stunning open countryside and of course, fantastic food and wine.

My landlady Sari has an apartment at Lake Bolsena,  one of the largest inland volcanic lakes in Italy.  She regularly travels up to Bolsena for some respite from Rome, and this Friday we both headed off, firstly to see the ancient Etruscan city of Tuscania and then on to spend a couple of days relaxing at Bolsena.  It was surprisingly easy to get out of Rome (we left around midday on Friday) and after driving past the old Olympic Stadium north of the Vatican, we took the Cassia, the old Roman road, to Tuscania.

High on a windswept hill is the Basilica of San Pietro, which stands on Etruscan ruins dating to a temple of the 6^th century BC.  The facade of the church overlooks a grassy area between the bishop’s Palace and the powerful defense towers.  Standing in the square of the basilica, you can look towards the (later) fortified town ofTuscania.  The interior of the church is austere; most of the frescoes have been lost, although the ceiling soars way above your head, and the intricate rose window and marble floors are lovely.  Steps lead down to the crypt, with a maze of vaulted arches.  It’s like standing in a forest of stone columns.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bolsena feels immediately like a place to relax.  The central piazza is open and light, and the corso, the main street, runs left and right to smaller piazzas with fountains and cafes.  The old town of weathered stone looms up over the piazza, and you can see the fortifications of the Castello Rocca, some hundreds of steps up above the town.  And everywhere are views of the lake.  Arriving at night, we see the lights of the towns around the lake – Marta, Capodimonte and Sant’Antonio. 

 

Sari has arranged dinner with some friends just outside Orvieto, in a restaurant set on a country road, and the conversation  is totally in Italian.  After four enjoyable hours, my brain is spinning, although everyone tries good-naturedly to speak slowly (impossible for Italians!).  There is masses of food, all for a set price of 20 euros each, and this includes – if you can manage it – crostini, prosciutto, salame as a starter, then two pastas (wild boar sauce, and the other rabbit sauce), then grilled meats from the enormous fireplace in the restaurant, and THEN desserts, vin santo wine, biscotti and coffee.  It’s an incredible amount of food, and there only seems to be one chef, a big man with an even bigger enthusiasm, exhorting everyone to eat up and enjoy the food.

Sunday we get up late, I head up to the Castello while Sari catches up with her work (she writes for a Rome newspaper) - I'm particularly taken with a terracotta putti in the museum of antiquities.

 

Later we drive around the lake, stopping for a lunch of river fish with fennel and some dry local sparkling wine (of which I also now have a bottle in my apartment fridge).  We linger so long that the lake changes from blue to pinks and greys, the sky begins to darken and the two central islands are enveloped in mist.

Monti

The rione (region) of Monti may just become my newest favourite part of Rome.  This is good, as I’ll be starting language school here next week, at the Romit School run by my old teacher from the Scuola Leonardi da Vinci, where I studied for three months last year.

Yesterday I met up with one of my language exchange buddies for a walk through Monti - principally to see the newly opened Via Alessandrini,  which runs along Trajan’s Market, that jumble of ancient stones and columns that was once a thriving administrative centre for the Emperor Trajan in 100 AD.  You can now follow the length of the old forum and look down directly into the ruins.

Another reason for visiting Monti was to see the churches of Saint Pudenziana and Saint Prassede, both murdered in the second century for burying the bodies of those Christian martyrs who were  under persecution from the authorities.  The church of Santa Prassede is by far the most splendid, with glowing and lovely mosaics in the Saint Zeno chapel, and a supposed fragment of the pillar on which Jesus was flogged before his crucifixion.  This fragment (and it’s a hefty fragment, too) was brought to Rome by Saint Helena, mother of the Holy Roman Emperor Constantine, when she was eighty.  She also brought back other religious relics, including the Scala Sancta, the holy stairs that pilgrims to Rome climb on their knees to earn plenary indulgence.

We also had some luck yesterday in seeing the House of the Knights of Rhodes, the seat of the Roman priorate of those holy crusaders who established themselves on Rhodes with the blessing of Pope Clement V.   We stood in the loggia and looked out over Trajan’s market and it was marvellous to see the forum from the opposite angle.   Rome is somewhat quieter now the holidays are over, although scores of people still pass the Forum on their way down to the Colosseum.

Lunch was sublime – at the Taverna dei Fori Imperiali we ate Pasta al Cacio e Pepe (Cheese and Black Pepper) with truffles.  Cacio e Pepe is one of the specialities of Rome, and it is perfect winter food with a glass of wine and an espresso to finish.  Although the Fori Imperiali would normally be crowded, and it just wouldn’t be possible to walk in off the street without a booking and have lunch, at this time of the year the beauty of Rome is it’s low season, easy to find a table in the piazza for coffee, or make a last-minute decision to have lunch or dinner at some of the best eating places in Rome.

Sunny in Rome

Rome has had some fantastic sunny weather these past two days.

Monday, a public holiday here for Epiphany, gave us blazingly blue skies and the city was buzzing, with families celebrating the last day of the Piazza Navona Christmas market, and street performers and musicians playing to huge crowds.  It was all a bit hectic, and impossible to keep on the “legal” sidewalk due to so many people, making it necessary to walk along the edges of the streets (no doubt frustrating to all the motorists and scooter riders, but hey {Roman shrug}..)

I took a walk down to the other side of my neighbourhood to see the church of Santa Cecilia and found myself in a maze of medieval streets – incredibly quiet compared to the more touristy side of Trastevere where my apartment is.  Here’s the serene and beautiful S.Cecilia in Trastevere, which is a mishmash of styles cobbled together from ancient to middle age, renaissance to baroque.  There’s been a church on this site since the third century, and the present structure sits over the supposed-house of Saint Cecilia (who endured three days locked in a steam bath and a subsequent decapitation attempt by the Roman authorities).

The little piazzas around the church are extremely beautiful, with ivy-clad houses in sepia and dusky pink and small restaurants and artists shops.  It is so peaceful over here, hard to believe the city centre is 10 minutes away on foot.

Up on the Campidoglio today, the hill that runs down past Michelangelo’s piazza to reveal the Roman Forum, Rome is dazzling in the sunlight.  I climbed up the 112 steps to the church of S. Maria d’Aracoeli to take some photos of the skyline – see below.

 

And in the morning, I skirted past the Largo Argentina, the Roman temples excavated by Mussoli, and once part of Pompey’s theatre (and the site of Julius Caesar’s assassination).  Surrounded on all four sides by traffic, this oasis shelters perhaps 50-60 homeless cats at any given time, cared for by the Largo Cat Sanctuary.  The future of these cats was under threat a year ago (historians claim they are damaging the site) but the cats are still there, preening themselves in every available bit of sunlight.

   

 

First bites

I’ve had a busy first two days in Rome.

On Friday night I crossed my piazza, the Sant’ Egidio, to the Via della Scala, where my landlady, Sari has her own apartment to meet up for dinner. We ate New Year’s leftovers, drank Italian red and swapped horror stories about tenants. Her last people travelled from the U.S. with their two cats in tow! Not only did they stay in Rome, but were moving on to Paris and then Ireland. With cats.

Christmas lights are everywhere in my neighbourhood. There is a giant “Auguri” (Best wishes) sign lit up on the Via dei Pettinari, just over the Ponte Sisto bridge, and strings of fairy lights flow overhead all the way down to the Via dei Giubbonari. The biggest controversy is over the mile-long strings of gay-pride lights on the Via del Corso, the busy shopping street that runs from the Vittorio Emanuele monument to the Piazza del Popolo, and planned as an anti-homophobic message following the suicide of a gay teen. The local council, who installed the lights, has battled the right-wing Fratelli d’Italia party, who want the lights changed to a patriotic green, white and red, ever since. Tomorrow, Epiphany, will see most of the Christmas lights around the city begin to come down.

 

There is a giant Christmas tree at the Vatican, and another in front of the Vittorio Emanuele monument. And the presepe - the nativity scenes – are everywhere. These scenes (mostly in the porticos of the churches) are incredibly detailed, with miniature piazzas sporting bakeries with their ovens glowing, trattorie with turning spit-roasts, groups of villagers playing cards, or at dinner; and artists in front of their easels, or carving wood, or sculpting marble. You can buy the tiny figurines used in these presepe at the giant Christmas market in the Piazza Navona. There are scores of different styles and sizes, and it’s possible also to find tiny bunches of fruit, baskets, foliage and other dolls-house size décor to make your own nativity scene.

 

 Also from the market, every kid in Rome has a helium balloon grasped in one hand – this year there are pink unicorns, Disney figures and my favourite, Minions from the animated film ‘Despicable Me’. And there are also masses of the witchy ‘Befana’ flying on her broomstick, ready to reward the good kids with lollies, and the naughty ones with lumps of coal.

 

Yesterday I went to see some Caravaggios, that big, bad Baroque painter in the naturalistic style. Even in the depths of murky churches his use of the chiaroscuro makes the pictures glow. I began at the French church near the Piazza Navona, the San Luigi dei Francesi. As its holiday time here in Rome, people are everywhere – and of course Caravaggio pulls large crowds. It took some time to get a good vantage point to see both the Martyrdom of Saint Matthew and the Calling of Saint Matthew, and even longer to read and digest the commentary displayed throughout the church. It would be difficult to appreciate and understand the symbolism in these paintings without guidance, although it soon becomes apparent to follow the beams of light to see the real, intended focal points in the pictures.

My favourite painting, further along in the church of Santa Maria del Popolo is the Conversion of Saint Paul, the shiny hindquarters of the skewbald horse displayed (and dominating the painting in that beam of light), Saint Paul sprawled on the ground, looking up in his moment of comprehension. It is even busier in here, with all of us straining our necks, and nudging our way in, to get a better view.

 

Back in the Campo dei Fiori market. It’s the season for fennel, oranges, artichokes and puntarelle, that crispy, crunchy, squeaky-on-the-teeth salad vegetable that freshens up winter lunch. Plenty of time over the next few weeks to find this in the restaurants and trattorie. The Romans dress it with anchovies, olive oil and vinegar and it really wakes up the palate. Incredibly time-consuming to prepare, you can buy a special implement to make short of work of shredding the celery-like bulb (that tastes more of asparagus) into the requisite coils.

 

I’ve been having a few Italian conversations, mainly in supermarkets and museums, with an increasing attempt to use the ‘Congiuntivo’, my language weak spot. So I’ve been thinking, hoping, supposing and believing my way through many conversations to get my head around this pesky tense.

 

Today I walked up to the Quirinale to see the exhibition of Augustus, heir to Julius Caesar, and, in August 2014, dead for 2000 years. Statuary, friezes, cameos, intarsia and even household furniture has been assembled from museums all over the globe at the Scuderie museum and the art is spread over two floors, with a thoughtful restaurant buffet inserted in between. So for 15 euros, you can sit and eat wonderful Italian food, drink a glass of wine and look out over a rainy Roman skyline for a while before climbing up to see the second part of the exhibition. Which is exactly what I did today, finishing this evening with a walk through Trastevere before heading back to the apartment.