Slowtrav.com review

Since I've been back and shared stories of Rome with friends and family I've also promised a link to Rome-is-Home, the wonderful apartment I rented for all of February. So here it is.

I've also had my review published on the Slowtrav site. You can read it here.

Thanks for sharing my holiday and especially to friends who posted me while I was away. It was always lovely to get some news of home and I really enjoyed reading the comments on my blog.

Next I plan to write about life and times here in Freo. So, if the moniker is still available, This-Life-in-Freo will be my next project.

Back to Rome

We leave Lecce after three slow and lazy days. A long train journey back to Rome, again travelling via Naples, sees us back at Rome Termini by early evening. We are staying at the Hotel Smeraldo for three nights before heading home. The Smeraldo is around the corner from my old apartment, and its lovely (and familiar) to be back wandering the Campo and enjoying more wine and music in the piazza.

What to do with our last few days? We agree we'll take our time and savour the end of our holiday. On our list is the Crypta Balbi museum, little-visited but fascinating; another subterannean vault beneath modern Rome. We are fortunate to find the museum open: its had remained firmly closed during my month in the Via dei Chiavari. Today, we find we are almost in time for an escorted tour through the excavations.

The Balbi museum has the best chronological guide to Roman life I've seen thus far. Once we've sorted out the room order, we travel back through post-war, pre-war, renaissance, medieval and ancient Roman lives and times. There are some fantastic aerial shots of the Largo Argentina taken over the last 80 years or so, and we can see the maze of buildings clustered where the main street, the Via Vittorio Emanuel now cuts through. Difficult to imagine Rome without this noisy, traffic-jammed thoroughfare (but Oh! wouldn't it have been great to be in Rome before the vespa). We descend down to Balbi crypt with our italian-speaking guide, and as we are only three - two of whom have little italian - we try and make out the gist of the story from catchphrases and pointing. We see the surviving wall of a renaissance palace built above the ancient structure, and we are fascinated by the series of water pipes and cisterns that once trapped or released the water supply.

Other good things we do during our stay: daily gelato at our favourite gelateria near the Pantheon which gives us a great excuse to revisit the dome. This has got to be Jim's favourite part of Rome; he spends time wandering the outside of the structure tracing the original line of the building. It gives me opportunity to cross to the tiny adjacent square to look at Bernini's elephant outside the church of Sopra della Minerva.

It's busier now as the tourist numbers begin to swell and we are also finding it warmer. The days are longer too, and we agree mid-March is probably the optimum time to be here in Rome. It's still quiet enough to access most places of interest, and the restaurants seem to have tables available. We eat again at the Pantheon by night; a magical experience. It's also rather surreal as Rome is in the grip of soccer fever, and our dinner coincides with the first 'serious' match of the season: Rome vs Arsenal. When Rome scores a goal, we can hear car horns sounding all over the city. Unfortunately all gets very quiet as our dinner progresses, and we guess that Arsenal have won the match.

A final visit to the Campo on our last day to look at the superb produce. Things I again covet: the purple artichokes and tiny wild strawberries. We have a last coffee in the sunshine at the cafe in Piazza Farnese before our noon departure. In 20 hours or so we'll be home.

Lecce

On Saturday our suitcases are lugged up to the waiting taxi and we drive down to Capri's Marina Grande in plenty of time for our 11.35am hydrofoil to Naples. Everything runs smoothly this time - the crossing is calm, the taxis are back in action and our train to Caserta is on time. At Caserta we change to the Eurostar train and we are taking this trip all the way to the terminus at Lecce.

Lecce is in the region of Puglia - right in the 'heel' of Italy. The journey is about 5 hours, and we pass through flat, fertile (and at times flooded) farmland. We spy the Barilla pasta factory at Incorata and wonder if the major producer for the Company - must look it up when we get home. We are always loyal to Barilla pasta!

Around 8pm we arrive at Lecce, having passed through the major ports of Brindisi and Bari. Our taxi takes us through crowds of Saturday-night strollers and we slowly inch, and toot, our way towards the hotel.

The Palazzo Rollo is glorious. We enter through a wide wooden portal and ascend marble steps to our room. We pass through mosaic-floored, oriental-carpeted magnificent rooms. Our room is completely charming with high arched ceiling, tall shuttered windows overlooking a central court, and sumptous draperies. It's truly lovely and our hostess has already set a breakfast table overlooking the courtyard.

Lecce feels not quite Italian. There are greek, Norman and arabic influences in the architecture and the predominantly local stone is sepia or sandy-toned. Iron balconies are supported by ornate sculpted pillasters and there are carved lintels above the doorways. Streets are wide and it's all very clean. We take a walk with the evening crowd; buskers are playing street music and there are night vendors selling jewelery and leather-work.

We read later that the region of Puglia is not heavily geared towards tourism, and there's a take-us-as-you-find-us attitude that's initially challenging. The next day we take a walk outside the historic centre and find a small market where there's a mixture of locally made and locally grown goods. I buy a huge salad bowl to lug home on my carry-on luggage. We also buy blood oranges (we're going to miss these oranges) and browse through some of the artisan shops near the centre.

We stop by the museum and explore the ancient Roman theatre. We climb the steps up to the top level and look down to the stage. The modern buildings have encroached on the ruins and we are hemmed in on all sides by baroque architecture. The sun is blazing overhead today, and its warm enough to shed our coats. We find an outdoor wine cafe close to our hotel and share some local food and wine in the sunshine. Today it feels truly as if we're on holiday and we sit happily enjoying a leisurely lunch. A highlight is the Leccese olive oil and vincotto. We mop up lots of this with bread. Jim is drinking a regional red wine and I'm on my second glass of prosecco.

Tomorrow we head back to Rome for a couple of days before flying out on Friday. Part of me is sorry to be leaving a country that has alternated between being extremely welcoming and accommodating, and somewhat challenging as we've travelled further south. I'm feeling excited at the prospect of being home and seeing our friends and beloved menagerie again, and spending some time in the warmth before the onset of autumn. We discuss the need for space and an identity; something that can be difficult to maintain after time in a crowded and alien place.

Villa San Michele

When Axel Munthe wrote The Story of San Michele in 1929 it was a best seller, running into countless editions. Born in Sweden, Munthe became a medical doctor in his early twenties and battled cholera epidemics in Paris and Naples; subsequently he established a successful practice in Rome, treating rich and poor clients alike and almost bullying his patients into recovery. He was melancholic, passionate about human and animal rights and conducted a discreet and long-running affair with the soon-to-be Queen of Sweden from his home in Anacapri. His story of the building of the villa San Michele, including the discovery of the head of Medusa from the seabed, and his dream (and subsequent location) of the ancient Sphinx that now looks out from the belvedere of his villa is captivating.

Nearly 20 years ago I visited the villa at Anacapri and it was such a memorable and emotive place for me. For years I had a watercolour of Villa San Michele above my workdesk and I still have it, although now its in our house in Fremantle. I've wanted to show Jim this place for years.

We take the winding path to San Michele passing shuttered villas behind iron gates. Most of them are in the white-painted, flat-roofed vernacular although we occasionally glimpse a maverick red or rose-pink villa. The Viale Axel Munthe curves around the villa and down to the original entrance, the 'Port of Difference' with countless steps down to the lower village of Capri.

The villa was completed by 1903. It stretches along the ridge of rock with fantastic views of the Gulf of Sorrento, and standing alongside the granite Sphinx we can see far down below to the main marina, where today's ferries dock. In an arc we can see the mainland of Naples, and the coast of Positano; we can also look east towards the ruins of Tiberius' Villa Jovis.

The loggia is a beautiful place and we wander through the rather austere rooms of the villa by way of the little enclosed courtyard. Far up above and behind the villa is Mount Barbarossa. By 1910 Munthe owned all of this land and his was the sole villa on this stretch of hillside. Now it's dotted with countless white villas, although the original terraced gardens of San Michele are still intact. There are some Australian melaleucas growing alongside daffodils and hyacinths. We are very reluctant to leave this place; such a haven and very, very beautiful.

Some consolution is the setting of our hotel, the Casa Caprile. The villa is in similar style to San Michele and was built for the crown princess Victoria of Sweden, under the supervision and advice of Axel Munthe. We circle the perimeter, looking for the original pillars topped with griffons as seen in a 1912 photograph at San Michele. With encroaching building, the approach to Casa Caprile has now changed to a side entrance. The main building is still largely unchanged however, and the interior has the same vaulted ceilings and turreted roof as originally shown.

We spend five days on the island and the weather is unvaried. It drizzles almost constantly. We have some odd dinner experiences, especially when we decide we need some real sustenance and fetch up at one of the local pizzerias that has stayed open outside the tourist season. The restaurant is stone cold, the TV is blaring and we share space with one other couple, who have wisely ordered the pizza. Our waitress has a mobile phone glued to her ear and it remains there for almost the entire evening. The wine is indescribably bad. We end up self-catering for most of our visit.

On our last full day on Anacapri we catch the local bus down into Capri and trek out to Villa Jovis, one of the 12 Roman villas built by the emperor Augustus. It's still raining and we see very few people on our way up to the ruins. When we arrive, we have the site to ourselves save for the caretaker and his three goats. The Villa Jovis has a lookout, called Tiberius' Leap, where hapless victims of the emperor were dispatched. Its a long way down to rocks below, and Tiberius supposedly had men stationed in boats to make sure any enemies who survived the fall were dealt with.

We wander the three levels of the vast complex that was built around the time of Christ. The structure still has the domed roof of the servant villas in place. At the highest level of the complex the church of Santa Maria del Soccorso has been built - a lonely place for worship. In the distance we can see the coast of Sorrento, and on the other side, the island of Ischia. It's an ideal location for visibility given that Augustus, and Tiberius, communicated with the mainland and ruled Rome by using a form of signalling involving night flares. Its easy to imagine the relative safety of ruling the roman empire from the island, compared to dangerous and insurgent Rome.

Anacapri

Our train from Pompei to Naples is delayed and we eventually arrive in Naples around 11am. Its absolutely chaotic in the train station and we are approached by several taxi drivers before we even leave the station. They prices they quote for a short trip to the ferry port are outrageous - double or even triple the legal fare. Unfortunately Naples is in the grip of a 24-hour taxi strike so we accept a 20 euro fare to the Baverello port. The drive is anxious to drop us out of range of the taxi rank in case of reprisals, and we only just catch the 12.45 hydrofoil to Capri.

It's a rough crossing and at least half the passengers are seasick. Also, its very hot in the cabin and we both feel a little green but don't succumb to the plastic bags being offered!

Capri looms large out of the choppy sea. I'm excited at the opportunity to visit Axel Munthe's villa at Anacapri - the highest, most picturesque and less-touristy village on Capri. We've booked 5 nights at the Casa Caprile in Anacapri, and our taxi driver takes us up the steep, narrow road to the township. At times our car seems to hang on the edge of cliff with inches between us and the precipitous drop. The road is so narrow that meeting any incoming traffic causes us all to breathe in as we scrape our way past.

Once safely at the piazza, we're prepared for the descent down to our accommodation. We've read that we need to negotiate some 80 steps to reach the hotel; fortunately the steps are shallow and wide. We bump our suitcases noisily down to the hotel gate. Our villa is slightly about the main building of the hotel and has its own terrace overlooking the sea. We have a sitting room and kitchen, plus bedroom and bathroom. Our terrace is very large, more like a small garden. Unfortunately the day is cloudy and the highest point of the island is obscured.

It's a luxury to unpack in the knowledge that we have 5 nights on the island. We take a walk up to the piazza and explore the maze of lanes that lead to the little church of San Michele and the tiny shops clustered around the other two piazzas. About half of the shops are closed for the winter, but our local cafe is open and displays a good range of panini and cakes, including the sweet, ricotta-filled cannoli. We become regulars at this cafe over the next few days and the owner is friendly and makes good, hot coffee.

Pompei

Our train from Rome termini is a relatively easy journey, apart from our luggage which seems to have got heavier. I try not to feel guilty about the extra coats and boots, and ceramics I bought in Rome.

Our Pompei hotel is very near the stazione. We can see the signpost from the entrance, and we wheel our luggage across the very busy intersection to access the hotel. It's a simple 3-star with very friendly and accommodating staff. There are tiled marble floors and its sparkingly clean but theres no lift. Jim again lugs the suitcases upstairs.

Our room is tiny after the space of our Rome apartment. We head out into the town of Pompei, which is neat and uniformly Victorian, having mostly been built in the last 150 years or so. We look in vain for a central piazza; we've got used to having our evening walk and glass of wine in the local square. We eventually decide on a cafe near the church and belltower and the service is fantastic. From our seat overlooking the church we are served a variety of bar snacks with our wine, including a warm ricotta tart. The service is old-fashioned, with bow-tied waiters and the bill is very low. We've got used to Rome prices!

The next day, we have breakfast in the hotel and walk the 10 minutes or so to the Pompei excavations entrance. Its an overcast day and there are very few people visiting the ruins. We decided on an audio guide to accompany us through, and this proves variable. We're bemused by the advertising that accompanies some of the commentary, including current local businesses such as sports stores and furniture restorers!

We are captivated by the villas of ancient Pompei, and the colour and life of the frescoes. I love the central atriums, the peristyles, that have again been planted with hedges, fruit trees and standard shrubs as they were long ago. We particularly admire the Villa of Venus, with the frescoes showing the goddess herself, accompanied by attendant cupids; and the cheeky, curly-tailed statue of the sprite in the House of the Faun. We walk kilometres to seek out the villas, shopfronts and public buildings of the ancient city of Pompei. It's raining softly but persistently and we have a hurried picnic lunch in one of the villas under the cover of the atrium.

It takes us 6 hours to explore Pompei, and we're footsore, damp and tired as we head back to our hotel. After a hot shower and change of clothes, we decide to eat close to hotel if possible. A quick right turn takes us to the Enoteca da Peppino and the food is absolutely marvellous. We have a warm antipasto of frittata, polpettine and grilled peppers. The white wine is a southern Greco di Tufo. We both have mains and I also have a blood orange tart. The bill is 36 euros - what fantastic value.

We walk home through smoky streets. Yesterday we attempted to find out what was creating the smoke but only got a reply of "umido" - either smog or wood fires. Even so, its noticeable and surprising. By the morning of our departure it's cleared but were still uncertain of its origin.

Farewell to Rome

Today we leave Rome and head south to Pompeii, followed by Anacapri and Lecce. Massimo and Biancamaria, my landlords have been in touch to say goodbye and check on last minute details. We joke about a future houseswap as they are both keen to see Australia and we wouldn't be averse to another month or two in Rome!

We have coffee and cornetti in the Piazza Farnese and watch the romans going about their normal Saturday morning - shopping at the forno for bread, meeting family and friends for a coffee in the square. We sit in the brilliant sunshine and soak up some sun. For the first time in a month I'm not wearing a coat and I sit comfortably in my cotton shirt. In front of us, the carabineri (police) are guarding the Palazzo Farnese - now an embassy - but take time out to smoke and talk with a local acquaintance. We watch as his goofy springer spaniel gallops over the square and returns back to slump down at his master's feet.

I'm reflecting on my month living in the Campo, and particularly the realisation that life is meant to be savoured and slow - I'm going to keep this philosophy in both my working and private life.