Montepulciano

We are floating on a sea of wine, 605 metres above sea level.

Bottles of Nobile di Montepulciano, the premium red of the district, appear in almost every window, or at every shopfront. It's a winelover's paradise, and combined with the beautiful renaissance and medieval architecture of the town, the sunny blue skies and the lazy pace we find ourselves relaxing almost immediately. I say almost immediately, as driving through the historic centre, with its tiny lanes and hairpin bends is enough to scare the lights out of both of us. I'm in the passenger seat and I'm nearly as keyed up as Jim, who navigates our car through some impossible-looking turns. The GPS is not being helpful, suggesting we go down yet another impassable street to reach our apartment on the Via del Poliziano. Eventually we turn back and try another approach to the town, much easier this time and park the car with relief. Giacomo, who owns the apartments is very happy to see us, and we are very happy to see him.

It is lovely here. Montepulciano became part of the Medici empire in the 16th century and there are many palaces, important civic buildings and renaissance artworks. It caters to tourists, but it still has a feeling of living slow. Our windows look out over vineyards and distant hill towns. The valleys are green and sepia with many villas and farmhouses, their approaches lined with dark green cypresses. Far away to our left we can see Lake Trasimeno, the largest stretch of water in Umbria. Below us, an avenue of lime trees leads to the tiny church of Santa Maria.

Via del Poliziano becomes the main street of the town. It's not cobbled (hooray) but faced with large blocks of stone and the buildings are honey-coloured. Giacomo tells us many Romans have their retreats here to escape the summer heat and we can believe it. It's several degrees cooler than Rome.

Today we visit the early market in the main Piazza. Facing us, the Palazzo Comunale, with its crenellated tower is a smaller-scale copy of Florence's Palazzo Vecchio. The local artisans have some beautiful items for sale, including papergoods, crafted silver and textiles. Later on this week, Montepulciano has its farmer's market in the lower town and our host tells us it is the best market in southern Tuscany. Aside from wine, the district is famous for pecorino cheese, cured meats, honey and olive oil and the thin hand-rolled pasta, called pici.

Below the town, the church of San Biagio is lively with local townspeople, celebrating the festival of their contrade. Contrades are local districts within villages, and each has it's own banner, or palia. The blue and yellow flags of the Montepulciano contrade are flying. There's a group in mediaeval costume in front of the church, and local kids kick a soccer ball in and out amongst all the ceremony. A huge fire is being stoked for a late lunch of grilled meats, and there are a group of women making pasta at tables in the church hall.

We have lunch at la Grotta, facing San Biagio, and sitting in the shady courtyard the dome of the church is almost overhead. Service is attentive and very courteous, with many complimentary tastes of wine and food. We finish with a selection of fresh and aged pecorino and goats cheeses, served with pears, local honey and pinenuts. Absolutely satisfied, we begin the steep climb back up towards the town, the only people out walking in the mid-afternoon heat. Most shutters are tightly closed as people take their siesta.

Ciao Roma

Yesterday we packed up our belongings (two cases have magically expanded to three), had a final coffee and cornetto in the Campo and took a taxi to the Termini, Rome's main railway station, for our trip to Montepulciano. A final look at Rome, then, through the eyes of a local graffiti artist. History, modernity, satire - don't you love it?

Der Pallaro, and Castel San'Angelo

Right outside our apartment, on the Via dei Chiavari, the lane deviates into a tiny piazza called the Largo Pallaro. The square is always packed with scooters and cars but on the edge is a restaurant called Der Pallaro. It has a reputation as a good, cheap eat and there's no menu - the italian cook decides on what you'll have for dinner.

Last night we have drinks in, as we have a good selection of wine and bar-snacks on hand. With the tall windows open in both the sitting room and bedroom, the usual babble of voices, scooter engines and snatches of music drift on up. About 8-ish, which is considered early for dinner by italian-standards, we wander on over to find a table. The place is absolutely packed, with no tables free outside. We obviously look a little crestfallen, as the cook appears, grabs us by the hand and literally tugs us past the open kitchen and through a series of rooms to the one remaining table in the furtherest corner of the restaurant. We're squeezed in beside an american tour group, who are debating on getting taxis back to their lodgings rather than walk the hour or so. In hindsight this is not surprising, as by the time we've struggled through the four-course menu we can hardly move ourselves.

First, a jug of red wine and a bottle of mineral water appears. Then antipasti. Then two types of pasta. Next roast veal, potatoes, mixed salad. Finally, homemade torta. We eat perhaps half of everything. The bill is 50 euros, all up (about $75). Amazing value for Rome.

Late breakfast today as a result, standing at the bar on the Via dei Gubbionari, located 400 metres or so down our street. I've been finding the cafe 'normale' to be incredibly strong, so try for a caffe lungo ("long" coffee, ie more water). I think perhaps 15 ml of water is added to the usual expresso. Oh well, the caffeine will keep me going. Somewhere between an Italian coffee and an Australian one would be perfect.

We're doing our last shop today at the Campo. Tonight we plan to have tagliatelle with fresh porcini mushrooms and we buy some perfect specimens from one of the many market stalls; the owner tucks in some fresh parsley so they'll be perfect cooked in butter, tossed with the pasta with some oil and parmesan. Yum yum.

A quick stop to drop off these goodies and we head along the Via Guilia, which is where I want my Rome apartment. We peer in at the back of the Villa Farnese at the most perfect italianate garden; raked gravel paths, immaculate lawns, orange trees in tubs. All the way along the Via Guilia, which runs parallel to the Tiber, there are glimpses into beautiful leafy courtyards and they are such oases on hot days like this one.

Our last Rome historic site this trip is the Castel San'Angelo, designed as Hadrian's mausoleum and used in the middle ages as a castle, prison and papal hideout. Archangel Michael sheaths his sword at the top, signifying the end of the plague. The climb up winds us through courtyards, frescoed rooms and maze-like passages. Up at the top, we can look out over Rome and see the Vatican, our neighbourhood church of San'Andrea delle Valle, and far away, the hills surrounding Rome. It's all shimmering in the heat, another perfect day in Rome.

Evil Shoes

The cobblestones have been waging a war on my feet the last few days. Before I left, I eagerly planned a wardrobe of floaty summer dresses and skirts, selecting some favourite shoes to go with them to add much-needed height to my 5'3" frame.

Day one was ok, and even day two.

By day three, I had taken to lagging along behind Jim, whimpering to no-one in particular. I got excited every time I spied a Farmacia, hobbling in to buy more sticking plasters, heel-guards and gel inserts.

Day four (yesterday) I was walking on my blisters and where possible, on the sides of my feet. Eventually I gave in and bought a pair of flat, cork-soled slip-on shoes. I'm absolutely in awe of Italian women, who manage the cobblestones with ease. Do they have leather soles on their feet?

Buon Compleanno, Jim!

Today (Wednesday) is Jim's birthday. Usually Jim claims the whole week but has agreed to economize this year and limit official celebrations to a single day.

In order to make this, then, a day to remember, we start off with caffe latte and cornetti in the Piazza Farnese. We sit outside looking on to the Farnese Palace surrounded by other travellers taking a leisurely breakfast. Inside, crammed at the bar are the local Italians having their coffee and pastries on the go.

A little lane connects the Piazza Farnese to the Campo dei Fiori square and the market is in full swing by 9am. Predominantly the market sells fresh produce, including the most delectable peaches, nectarines and berries. Peaches are 1 euro 50 per kilo - just a little over $2 - and they are perfumed and delicious. We've bought them every day so far and they are addictive. Also in season are fresh porcini mushrooms. I'm thinking of my foodie partner-in-crime, Roz, as we walk past a stall with these mushrooms piled high. I think we could do a great risotto with these, or maybe a frittata? Definitely on the shopping list before we leave Rome. At home, we can buy dried porcini, and they do add some oomph to italian dishes but I suspect, like most fresh produce, the taste is much better.

A quick stop at our apartment to drop off the shopping. We have 74 very steep marble steps up to our third-floor flat (74 stairs = 1 gelato) and I remember at the end of my stay last year my quadriceps were like iron. Today we're still trying not to gasp as we reach our front door.

We need to get to Rome's termini today to buy our tickets to Chiusi, the etruscan town in Tuscany where we'll pick up our hire car on Saturday. After lunch at an outdoor trattoria halfway down the hill and bit of shopping on the way (separate gloat entry to follow) we head back home for a late siesta. As we pay for lunch we get asked the inevitable "Where are you from" question ('You're from Perth? I have a cousin/uncle/aunt/brother in Perth!') we find that our waiter actually does have a grandfather who lives in the Dandenongs. He can't believe, like many italians, that we are crazy enough to spend 20 hours in the air to get to Italy.

We get back just before the storm begins. It's been sultry weather all day, and a low rumble and sheet lightning begins just minutes after we reach the flat. The downpour is spectacular, and sitting at the long windows in the bedroom we watch the water teem off the roofs opposite. Afterwards, the sky is quite eerie and lights up the terracotta and sepia buildings with a red/orange glow.

Before we left on our trip Jim was very definite on having his birthday dinner in the Pantheon square. Tonight also, the Altar of Peace is lit for the last time in the 2010 Festival season, with lasers to show how the marble was originally coloured 2,000 years ago. Our plan is to have dinner looking out over the facade of the equally ancient rotunda, and then head up the Corso to the Altar to see, what we hope, will be a spectacular view of the huge marble structure dedicated to the emperor Augustus' successful campains against the barbarians abroad.

The Pantheon is gently glowing in the evening light, as are all the surrounding buildings, and even the central fountain. We have an outside table on the square and both sit looking out over one of the most beautiful piazzas in Rome. Dinner is huge bistecca, medium-rare, and a bottle of red vino Nobile.

The Ara Pacis can be seen dazzling away as we approach along the Tiber. Originally sited on the Field of Mars, a little to the north of where it now stands, it had lain buried under the mud and silt of the Tiber floods for nearly 1,600 years, until various fragments were excavated. Mussoli gathered together the scattered parts and reassembled the Altar in 1938. Now, the monument is housed in a controversial glass cube, the first modern building in Rome's historic center since the 1930's.

At 11pm people are still trickling in to admire the structure. You can see the scale in one of the photos above. Along the sides the frieze depicts triumphal processions, and the figure of Augustus can be seen, half-damaged where the marble fragments have been lost, halfway along the line of priests, dignitaries and members of his family. A little further on, Marcus Agrippa, soldier, engineer of Rome's aquaducts, and son-in-law to Augustus, can be seen with his priest's cowl over his head.

The layers of Rome

Today's been another scorcher - around 30 degrees, patchy clouds/sun and very little breeze. Rome is sweltering. The gelaterie are doing a roaring trade, as are the fruit vendors and the mobile food stands - not only in mineral water, but also brightly coloured parasols and straw fedoras. The modern-day gladiators are wearing shorts under their armour, and they're sweating profusely. There's hardly a blade of grass on the parks surrounding the Forum, and as we head up the Campidoglio, Michelangelo's beautiful square on the Capitoline Hill, we can look down on the Forum and see a few figures plodding among the ruins. It looks much more appealing up above the Forum, on the Palatine Hill, where Rome's great senators built their houses and where Rome's founders, Romulus and Remus supposedly camped. It cool and green up there and surprisingly empty.

Today, though, we are heading to San Clemente, the three-level church that is behind and a little uphill from the Colosseum on the Via Labicana. On the way down the Via dei Fori Imperiali, the street that runs from the Forum to the Colosseum, there are several living "statues", motionless in the blazing heat. I see a gold-wrapped Tutenkhamen - he was there last year when I walked the same road. We get beckoned by a statue painted in white greasepaint, wearing a white robe and strings of pearls. He shakes hands very theatrically with us, and we're still holding hands with him as we take photographs.
Although much of ancient Rome is buried under the layers of the modern city, there are still sites with access to the temples, houses, tombs and public buildings of the early Romans. One of these is San Clemente. In the1850's the Irish Dominican monks began to excavate the foundations of their church, expecting to find some remains of an early building underneath. They found two structures - the early 4th century church, still following the exact outline of the church above, and below this 4th C building, earlier pagan and Roman domestic building of the first century. So, 60 feet below modern Rome, you can contemplate a Roman courtyard, giving on to a series of rooms with herringbone brick floors, domed ceilings and central openings to let in the air and light. A corridor runs along the outer wall of the courtyard, and next to this is the pagan temple of Mithras. A smallish room with stone benches contains a central carved altar, with a relief of the god Mithras wresting the bull, his foot crushing the serpent below. At this level, the Roman springwater from a subterranean stream rushes on by, louder in places where grills expose the water foaming on below.

Back on ground level again, we head back along the V. Fori Imperali to the Piazza Venezia, today humming with crowds and parading soldiers - something big is happening. As we head down the Via Vittorio Emanuel, we see TV cameras and even more police holding up the pedestrian traffic around the Berlusconi residence. Looks like a visiting dignitary might be about to arrive, but the evening news might tell us more. For now, we head back for a late lunch in the Navona district - and ideal time to be lingering over a salad and wine while the commercial sites close down for the siesta.

Rome is where the heart is

My heart is singing.

Here we are back in Rome. And day one has been a mixture of activity and rest, with a prior late night arrival at Fiumicino, lllooonnnnnggggg wait to get Jim through the non-EU arrivals line, even longer wait for luggage. We eventually find our driver patiently holding a "Mr Lloyd" sign; he's been standing looking out for us for a couple of hours due to delays in leaving Dubai (diagnosed fuel line leak into the rear engine, plane sitting on the tarmac in a 41-degree heat, faulty air-conditioning and can it get any worse). He zips us into Rome past the Pyramid of Caius Cestius, praetor 1st century BC, and gives us a whistlestop commentary via the Piazza Venezia, into the Campo district and onto our apartment in the Center. Jinkie, who I met last year when I stayed a month, meets us and hands over the keys. She is clearly relieved to see us after wondering if we were ever going to arrive. We dump our luggage and head out again for gelati. The Campo is alive with college kids and most of the outdoor cafes tables are filled. And its hot, hot enough for the lightest of summer clothes.

By the time we're walking our gelati around Rome, we've been awake for 24 hours.

Today we wake to the bells of our surrounding churches, the Sant' Andrea pealing closest. We count to eight which means we've had our regulation hours. I ponder the meaning of the various bell peals, as we hear a series of notes before the eight tolls. With the shutters open the sun is blazing overhead and street noises drift on up from the Via dei Chiavari; vespas buzz away and patrons from the bakery shout and laugh . Opposite at eye level we can see the Grotta Pinta curving the ancient line of Pompey's theatre.

Outside, its all ochre and gold and terracotta roofs and sunlight. We have early coffee at a table on the Piazza Farnese, opposite the austerely beautiful Farnese Palace and I sit and soak it all up while Jim goes off into the adjacent Campo to buy some provisions. I'm still sitting, wishing I had a sketchblock and HB, when he returns with peaches, prosciutto and cheese. Which we stow back at our apartment, along with some prosecco and red wine. Lunch is all of these, plus some fresh pesto and olives from the Salumeria on the corner.