St Peter's necropolis (Scavi)

One of my constant companions here in Rome has been Henry Morton's A Traveller in Rome, written in 1957 and still an engaging and relevant read about this great city. With his gentle humour and historical references, this book has sat on my bedside table for a month now and there’s seldom a day when I haven’t referred to it as my definitive guide.

Of fascination are Morton’s references to the necropolis under the Vatican. At the time of his writing the excavations were not open to public view and had only been laid bare some seven years previous. Various popes had been reluctant to disturb the remains of the apostle St Peter, and it was only in 1939, under Pope Pius XII, that a decision was made to excavate the Vatican hill. The excavations took ten years to complete; at times the work was delicate and picks and shovels could not be used – the excavators worked using their hands.

Morton's tour of the scavi was specially arranged, and his guide spent some time translating the inscriptions on the tombs. One of these, on the tomb of Flavius Agricola, gives some cheerful advice: 'Friends who read this, do my bidding. Mix the wine, drink deep, wreathed with flowers, and do not refuse pretty girls the sweets of love'.

The scavi (excavations) can now be viewed with written permission from the Vatican. Back in October, I emailed the Vatican seeking permission for Jim and I to visit. Within a couple of weeks I got a reply confirming our visit for 24th February.

On the appointed day and hour, we present ourselves to the Swiss Guard at the gate on the left colonnade and are admitted through to the official offices of the Vatican. We join a small group of 10 led by an English-speaking guide, and via the Excavation Office we descend some stairs and enter a narrow passage with a sealed door. Our guide slides this door open, and we climb through to the scavi.

It is very dry and warm 30 feet under St Peters. We stand at the end of a passage and look upon an ancient Roman street with crypts opening on both sides. As we begin to walk along the street, our guide tells us we were actually walking up the gentle slope of the Vatican hill, with our ultimate destination being the tomb of St Peter. The crypts we can see are frescoed in brilliant Pompeian reds, greens and blues and depict flowers, animals and fruits. We stop to look at a mosaic floor, showing subsidence over the 1800 years since it was laid. Above the crypts tablets in marble pay tribute to the dead, with invitation for the relatives and freedmen of the family to also inter remains in the family tombs. The paintings on the tombs are still fresh and vibrant.

Our guide tells us we are level with, and below, the left aisle of the basilica’s nave. The area of the exactions uncovered is about 200 feet long and contains 27 family tombs; tombs of wealthy middle-class Romans of the 1st and 2nd centuries AD. Further excavation is not possible without danger to the church above, particularly as the massive weight of Michelangos’s dome is supported by concrete footings some 15 feet wide.

As we continue forward, we hear how the Emperor Constantine built the early church of St Peter’s on the Vatican Hill purely to honour the bones of the Apostle below. We see the ancient altar built over the bones of St Peter and we cross in front, and then behind, the tomb seeing the columned structure that now holds the remains. To protect the bones from damage and theft, Constantine had erected a marble cube around the tomb and the bones are now housed in special airtight containers. Surprisingly, there are several of these containers holding some 70 or 80 bones of the Saint.

We finish our tour in a little chapel under the current basilica; through a hole in the roof we can see into the light of the current church above. Our guide leaves us at the frescoed ceiling of the first level below St Peters where some of the early, and latter-day popes are housed, and we pass the tomb of Pope John Paul II who died in 2005. Continuing up the stairs to the current basilica we spend some time admiring ‘modern’ St Peters before heading home along the Tiber.

Cooking Class

Early start today – I’m booked on a Context tour to cook some Roman and southern-italian food with docent Daniela del Balzo.

Our day starts at the Café Barberini on Via Mamorata in the Testaccio district and we meet up with Daniela outside. We’re a mixed bunch – a couple from Michigan, another couple from Boston, plus me adding Australia to the mix. Both american couples are here for a single week only and they’ve been sightseeing hard, with little time to sit in piazzas and while away an hour or two.

Our first stop is a pasta ‘Laboratory’ where all the pastas are made fresh daily. The front-of-house has the most wonderful looking filled pastas and crepes on display, including an artichoke and ricotta filled caramelle – so called for the sweet-shaped style of the pasta. We meet the owner and he takes us out into the factory area. A huge machine is combining a long sheet of pasta and some meat filling into tortellini. We take turns to climb up on to the machine and watch this transformation. A woman is filling crepes by hand and arranging them on a platter. The colour of both the pasta and the crepes is a strong yellow and Daniela explains this is solely due to the colour of the egg yolks.

Next we head off to the Testaccio market. After the Campo dei Fiori, this market seems less picturesque and more workaday, but the produce is far more varied – beautiful breads, fruit and vegetables, meats, cheeses, pots and pans; there is even a stall for pets. I think about buying a natty checked collar for Jasper but decide against it.

Daniela buys some artichokes for the pasta we’ll be making later; the stall owner selects and trims them, adds some lemon to prevent discolouring, and bags up the artichokes in record time. We buy thinly sliced veal for saltimbocca, plus pancetta and guanciale – similar to pancetta, but from the cheek of the pig. We also buy long, thin eggplants for a stuffed eggplant dish. I’ve never seen eggplants like these; we have to make do with the large and bulbous specimens at home. I vow to buy some Italian seeds and try to grow this variety.

We’ve now got all we need and we head up the hill to Daniela’s apartment on the Aventine Hill. Its a lovely, light filled and contemporary space with a state-of-the art kitchen. We all don aprons and sit around a long workbench to talk food and drink espresso. Daniela is concerned we might be hungry, so we sit with huge hunks of foccacia while we discuss today’s menu. We’ll start with an appetiser of bruschetta, served with tomatoes seasoned with marjoram, and then move on to pasta with artichokes and pancetta, then veal 2 ways – saltimbocca (sage and prosciutto) and invotini (stuffed with vegetables). For desert, Daniela has already made a tiramisu, explaining that the desert needs several hours to settle and therefore must be made ahead of time.

I’m interested in how artichokes are prepared for a pasta sauce, having never cooked them this way. It’s quite simple: the artichoke is halved and the choke removed, and its then sliced thinly and put into acidulated water to stop discoloration.

While we’re cooking, the family cat meanders in. He’s the largest cat I’ve ever seen, and this is explained by the hoard of scraps that are set aside for him. He obviously eats quite well in this household, and a varied diet he has, too, judging by today’s menu.

After some chopping of eggplants and rolling of saltimbocca, and lots of conversation and shared stories about Rome, we sit down to eat. We’re drinking Casale del Grigio wine from the Agro Pontino valley 30 kms south of Rome. We start with a Satrico, which is a blend of Chardonnay, Sauvignon Blanc and Trebbiolo. Like all Italian wines, it tastes more of the fruit and less of the oak. This white is fantastic with our pasta, and we move on to a Merlot and then a Shiraz with the veal and eggplant dishes. I’m eating more than I’ve eaten all week, and there’s still desert. With the tiramisu, we have Daniela’s home-made limoncello – delicious but powerful.

At 3pm, we all stagger into our coats and gather up our food notes and recipes from today. It’s been great to spend a day in Daniela’s kitchen and to visit the Aventine district - a new part of Rome for me. Daniela is keen to talk more about our planned trip south (she is from Naples) and asks me to ring her before Jim and I set off to Puglia and Basilicata. I promise to do this, and head back along the Tiber, past Tiber Island to the apartment. I’m definitely inspired to try some more cooking in my last week – and I’ll be coming back to the Testaccio markets again before we leave Rome.

Palatine

Blue sunny skies again today; Spring must be close. I’m not going to be seduced by the warmth coming through my sitting room window; I know it’s still cold out there. So: coat, gloves, scarf, money, keys (and sunglasses) and I’m out the door.

As usual, the forno in my street is busy with early morning patrons, most of them tucking into slabs of piazza bianca. A smartly-dressed girl hurries past with a tray of coffee, each cup covered with aluminium foil to keep it hot. Needless to say, most of these are tiny espresso-sized cups. She’s got the most amazing high heels on, but she navigates the cobbles easily. Elisa, the leather-smith next door, is outside getting some sun. Her shop has the most incredible collection of handmade bags, purses, wallets and belts in all shades of colour, including bright yellows and oranges. I can never pass without a long look in the window; I’d buy one of everything if I could.

A 10-minute walk, today skirting past the Theatre of Marcellus, takes me up to Capitoline Hill and I buy my Roma Pass at the Campidoglio museum. This pass gives me 3 days of museum visiting and as it turns out, easy access to the Forum and Palatine. There are lots of student groups at the Forum entrance queueing for tickets. With my Roma Pass, I luckily go straight through the turnstile.

At 10.30am the Forum is busy, with some people sitting on the marble stones having a late breakfast and consulting their guidebooks. I head past the Temple of Romulus and look at the bronze doors, original since the temple was built in 307 AD. According to my guidebook the locking mechanism on the doors still functions after 17 centuries.

Up the path to the Palatine Hill. It’s green and other-worldly up here and the first spring flowers are coming through the long grass. I head up to the Horti Farnese; the gardens are laid out with straight box hedging over several acres, cultivated but not excessively severe. The view out over the belvedere is superb; the Forum stretches below and to the right, the Colosseum looms up. This hill was the place to be, if you were a Roman emperor (or had aspirations) during the 1st century AD.

I look for the Emperor Augustus’ house, and the House of Livia, named after his second and much-loved wife. Supposedly he lived quite simply in his house on the Palatine, in complete contrast to Domitian, who built the massive Domus Flavia and Domus Augustana. You can still look down into his huge stadium – supposedly used for races and games. In early spring this area is grassed over but I can imagine it dry and dusty in the summer months.

It’s very peaceful up here on the Palatine and there are a thousand spots to stop and admire the view down over the Forum, or out towards St Peter’s dome. I spend a couple of hours happily wandering about, and then make my way back down, through the Forum and past the arch of Septimus to the exit on the Capitoline Hill.

Back at the Campo. Today marks the 408th anniversary of the death of Giordano Bruno. There is a fair crowd in the square, including the usual dogs and kids, and wreaths and mementos surround the statue. There are lots of speeches and ceremony including the municipal police band. I lean up against a sheepdog and scratch his ears and head and he leans back, enjoying the attention.

Baths of Diocletian

Another glorious day in Rome. After a morning coffee and perusal of my travel bibles I head off on a mission – the Baths of Diocletian. These baths were built in AD 298 by the Emperor as public baths for the people – up to 3,000 at any one time – and included facilities for the serious and not-so-serious minded athlete; gymnasiums and sporting facilities, saunas and hot and cold baths (and masseuses).

A sub-mission today is to find the gelatteria San Crispino, shrine to artisan-quality gelato. I’ve been advised to try the ginger and honey combination by Stella at SlowTrav.com. This will be my first gelato experience for the trip and I’ve got high hopes.

San Crispino is a few streets back from the Trevi fountain and today the Trevi is heaving with people including street vendors; current must-have is a revolving bubble-blowing contraption. The singing stones are also in evidence, so there’s rather a carnival-like atmosphere around the fountain. I’ve read that the superstition of coin throwing nets the Italian charities around US$1,250 daily, but that once it was believed that merely drinking the water ensured a safe return to Rome.

My gelato is fantastic, very smooth and creamy and there’s evidence of the fame of this place – the walls are plastered with reviews from the New York Times and Gourmet magazine. My gelato-seller wishes me a happy Valentines Day for yesterday but doesn’t give me any extra ice cream for my 3 euros, worse luck.

Up to the Quirinal hill, past many palazzi lining the busy Via XX Settembre. The baths can be seen rising up behind the church of Sant’Maria degli Angeli and in fact the ruins have been incorporated into the nave. The church is full of light and massive rose granite pillars support the enormous frescoed ceiling; today the smell of incense is still heavy – morning mass is not long finished.

Through the sacristy there is a little courtyard and fountain, and rearing up behind this space are the walls of the baths. To access the baths it’s necessary to go back through the church and approach them from further along the Via Volturno.

There is a beautiful formal garden preceding the entrance to the Aulax, the original atrium of Diocletian’s baths. The aulax is enormous, with walls rising to perhaps the height of a 3 storey building, and the chamber itself is hundreds of feet long. Over the years it had been converted into an area for storing grain, but today it is again part of the Rome museum and contains three excavated tombs, removed intact from various places around the Tiber during building works. One of these, dating to 2nd Century AD, was unearthed in 1951 and has frescoed walls and niches for funerary urns – it is a bright and cheerful place to spend the afterlife.
I go through the museum, particularly taken by a triangle of seated terracotta figures – three women of importance, judging by their jewels and elaborate hair. The figures are almost life-size and they make a startling group, sitting as they do in eternity.

My last visit within the museum is to the courtyard designed by Michelangelo, and it is the largest cloister I’ve seen, with vaulted ceilings and corridors lined with statuary and sarcophagi. I’m amazed at how small the space is inside these sarcophagi until I remember the average height of the early roman was around 5 feet.

I'm feeling travel-weary now and the sun is low in the sky as I head back along the Via Cavour. Everyone is out for their evening stroll and the Forum is closed to traffic - its a pleasure to walk through the crowd. Today I decide to skirt past the Capitoline Hill rather than climb it. I'm looking forward to a glass of wine and my warm apartment.

Rome when it Sparkles

Rome is experiencing sunny blue skies at the moment – this is our third day of clear weather. These photos were taken yesterday from the top of the Capitoline Hill; in the first, and looking towards the west, you can see the dome of the church of San Andrea delle Valle (one of my near neighbours) and further on, the dome of St Peter’s.

From the opposite side of the Capitoline Hill there is a spectacular view over the Forum (second photo). In the foreground is the arch of Septimiums Severus (AD 203) and the straight road running at an angle in the right of the picture is the Via Sacra, once used for triumphal processions through the Forum.

So, two very different views from the same (and loveliest) of Rome's seven hills. The Capitoline is about a 10 minute walk from my apartment and has become a favourite part of the city.

Slow Food

Having always been a greedy person, spending time in Rome has given me access to some fantastic food experiences.

I’ve already written about the Roscioli Forno on my street. Up until now, I’ve bought Croccante, which is a very crispy flatbread, or Pizza Bianca (olive oil and salt). My latest discovery is the crusty woodfired, oatmeal-coloured pane forno. You can buy it by the kilo (heaven forbid) or in any smaller amount, and the fierce, chopper-wielding woman in the bakery will cut your portion, wrap it, weigh it and give you a receipt for the till in seconds.

Further up on the corner of the Campo is a Salumeria (delicatessen) run by 4 or 5 elderly stalwarts, with Madame again behind the till. It’s a treasure house of prosciutto, pesto, olives, artichokes, smoked swordfish, buffalo mozzarella and parmignano. No-one is ever in a hurry, and on any normal working day in my ‘normal’ life I wouldn’t have the patience to wait the 10 minutes or so it takes for the signore to measure out my desired portion, slowly package it up and move on to my next item.

I haven’t mentioned the Campo butcher, the seafood seller, or even the fruit and vegetable vendors yet, and in fact I haven’t attempted to cook any fish or shellfish – mainly due to my ignorance of the types on offer.

Because of the proximity, and because I have time on holiday, daily shopping is a real pleasure, particularly as I can buy just as much as I need. I can also take my time over it, stopping for a coffee at the Bar Farnese and reading the paper before moving on to finish my shopping.

So my days are evolving into a slow pattern of buying provisions in the morning, dropping these back at the apartment and visiting a museum or gallery in the afternoon. It’s a perfect combination, and I generally head home around dusk to have a glass of wine and think about dinner. This way of slow living is exactly how I envisaged it months ago, back in Australia.

Colosseum

There’s a tendency to cosy on up indoors when it’s chilly outside, and especially when it’s raining. We have to remind ourselves today that we’re in Rome and we need to get out and about.

Shirley, my visitor is looking for some boots that are comfortable enough to handle the cobblestones. We try a few in the vicinity – there are 5 shoe stores in the Via Guibbonari alone – and have some success. Quick boot change back at the apartment and we head down past the Fountain of the Turtles and the Theatre of Marcellus, over the Capitoline Hill and on to the Colosseum.

It’s such an impressive sight as it looms up, a stadium once capable of seating 55,000 spectators and providing access to the many different levels of social stratum; plebs and women at the uppermost level, and senators centre stage of the action. The massive arches are now mostly stripped of their travertine marble and showing the bare tufa stone of the original construction. The many holes and pits in the stone show the marks of the pulleys used to level the massive blocks into place.

Outside the Colosseum latter-day gladiators and centurions are touting for business. We wonder to each other what it must be like to don the breastplate and helmet before heading off to work each day. Presently, there’s not much custom to be had as the crowd hurries on through the cold to the relative warmth of the ticket office.

Inside, we wait by the third arch as instructed for our English-speaking guide. She collects us, her only two patrons, and we turn and face the outer wall and listen while she explains how the Emperor Vespasian held a hundred days of festivities when the Colosseum was officially opened in 80 AD. She tells us to look for the ancient roman numerals on the outside walls, depicting the correct entrance gate for the token-holder. She also tells us about the gladiators, and how they trained hard in either state or private fight schools to learn how to use every weapon from the sword to the lasso.

On the upper level we stand at the best vantage point and look down at the exposed underground tunnels where the animals were kept, ready to be levered up to the stage via a number of trapdoors. This is what grabs at the heart and it distresses me to hear the scale of the carnage. Hard to equate this bloodlust with today’s Roman, whose dog walks companionably by his side and accompanies him everywhere, even out to dinner.

Down below us we now watch a sea of umbrellas swirling about as tourists from all over the world wander the shell of this massive structure. It’s amazingly cold, and we’re jiggling about to keep warm. After about an hour it begins to hail, and icy sleet gathers on the stone balustrades. Our guide finishes the tour and we make for the blessedly heated bookshop to thaw out.