European Circle Tour Part 6: Rome: The City and the Myth

Ah, Rome -- city of seven hills, the Eternal City, the city of history in all periods from 3,000 years ago to the present day, city of famous artworks, of churches, of romantic ruins and ruined romancers, of classic Italian song, of romantic dinners, of insane traffic, of proud men and haughty women, and on and on. Which one is the really, real Rome? The answer is: they all are, in part or in some degree. Even allowing for that flex room, there are many more sides of the real Rome which the myths simply don't cover.

 

This is my fourth visit to Rome. I came in 1971 and 1973 as a high school student. I came ten years ago as a mature, experienced traveller, and fell in love with Rome all over again. And now I have returned.

 

The timing was both accidental and historic. My train from Florence to Rome, a 95-minute journey on the high-speed Frecciarossa, slid into Rome's Termini Station just as the funeral for Pope Francis was taking place across town at the Vatican City. Around the station it was an even more than usually peaceful Saturday afternoon, but I'm willing to bet that the crowding around St. Peter's was horrendous. 

Before I got very far on my Sunday morning walk, I came upon this historic scene.

 

The domed building up the hill is the Papal or Major Basilica of Santa Maria Maggiore (St Mary Major), oldest of the four Papal Basilicas. It dates in its origins from the 400s. The crowd was the already-considerable line of people waiting for their turn to file past the tomb of Francis on the morning after his funeral. His choice to be buried here might have startled some people who assumed that he would be interred in the Vatican, but in actual fact there are tombs of Popes past in many churches of the city. 

 

Before I go any further, it might be as well to explain the use of the term "Basilica" for the benefit of my non-Catholic readers. A Basilica is a church which is granted that special status by the Pope due to its history, its link with a particular beatified or sanctified person, or for any other significant reason. The title does not confer any special role or priority, but does serve as a mark of distinction. There are dozens of Minor Basilicas, and they can be found in countries all over the world. Some are also Cathedrals (serving as the seat of a Bishop of a Diocese) but many are not.

 

There are only four Major Basilicas, and all four are in Rome. The most famous is the Basilica of St. Peter in the Vatican City (I visited it twice in 1971 and 1973). The oldest is Santa Maria Maggiore, which I visited in 2015. One of my key objectives for this trip was to visit the other two at last. But that would come later. My first destination for this day was a further 10 minutes walking time southeast of Santa Maria Maggiore. The Basilica of San Pietro in Vincolis (St. Peter in Chains) is tucked away in a hilltop courtyard, not far north of the ancient Roman Forum. The chains contained in a glass reliquary beneath the main altar were brought to Rome by Empress Eudoxia, the wife of Valentinian III, in the belief that these were the authentic chains which had bound St. Peter in prison in Jerusalem.

 

 

The chains have made this church a centre of pilgrimage.  For the modern tourist, though, the more significant relic is found in the transept to the right of the altar.

 

 

The entire construction is the tomb of Pope Julius II whose administration led to so many memorable artistic commissions, from Michelangelo and others, as well as political and military campaigns designed to increase the power of the Papacy. Michelangelo's renowned statue of Moses, in the centre of the tomb, was originally planned as part of a much larger funerary monument which was meant to hold nearly 50 separate statues. 

 

After leaving this church, I dropped back down to the Via Cavour and continued to the bottom of the hill. There I encountered this unique view. 

 

 

I think this is my favourite picture of all the hundreds I have taken on this trip so far -- it covers so many aspects of Rome, and all in the one view. This photo was taken from a pedestrian-only street called the Via dei Fori Imperiale (Street of the Imperial Forums), which reminds us that that there wasn't just one "Roman Forum" -- there were many. At its east end is the world-renowned Flavian Amphitheatre, more often known as the Colosseum. The name refers to a colossal bronze statue of Nero which used to stand outside the arena until destroyed many centuries ago, perhaps by an earthquake.

 

 

The ancient Forum along the south side of the street also contains later Imperial buildings, like this imposing structure. 

 

 

The is the Basilica of Maxentius, but in this case the term does not mean a church, nor even a temple. An Ancient Roman basilica could be any combination of features in a large public building -- shops, offices, a law court, a money exchange, a meeting place, an assembly hall, or what you will.

 

At the far end of the street, in the Forum of the Emperor Trajan, stands this remarkable column. At first glance, it may not appear overly impressive, but check it out at close quarters.

 

 

 

The spiralling track of sculpted figures depicts military actions leading upwards to a victory procession of the type known in ancient Rome as a "triumph." The figures in the triumph include soldiers, priests, horsemen, musicians, dancers, and prisoners from the Emperor's military campaigns. 

 

After I wandered away from the Forum, my next stop was the Chiesa del Gesu, home church of the Jesuit Order, and famed for its enormous ceiling paintings and gilded Baroque splendour.

 

I was actually surprised that visitors were still admitted (but only at the rear) during Sunday Mass. The powerful organ filled the entire church with music.

 

Even in a city loaded with famous buildings and famous artworks, there are many which are not so well known. I can't remember at what stage in my research I found out about this next church, but the hordes of people storming towards the Pantheon, just a short block away, somehow manage to miss this one: Santa Maria Sopra Minerva. The name refers to an ancient temple whose remains were incorporated into the first church built on the site ("sopra" = upon or over top of). The facade is Renaissance in style, but the church behind it is one of the few Gothic churches to be found in Rome. The stained glass windows were all made in the 1800s to replace earlier ones lost to natural damage. The multiple rose windows are pure Gothic style.

 

 

Also found in this church is a statue of the Risen Christ by Michelangelo. It was originally created by the artist with the genitals fully exposed. The bronze drapery, like the draperies painted over the similarly naked Christ in the Sistine Chapel frescoes, were added in a later period of greater prudery.

 

Through this stage of my walk, I kept crossing the paths of the hordes of guided tourists who were being made to follow the predetermined track leading from the Forum to the Pantheon to the Trevi Fountain. After bypassing the last two, I headed straight along the Via del Tritone to the Piazza Barberini, site of the Baroque sculptor Bernini's spectacular Triton Fountain. To modern eyes, it looks like the sea god is draining a sizable dose of wine or some such treat, but the sculpture actually depicts the legendary Triton whose conch shell horn was used to blow fanfares for his father, the great sea god, Poseidon.

 

Is it only me, or do the supporting fish look angry? Another Bernini fountain down the road at the Piazza Colonna features more supporting fish with similar cranky expressions. 

 

I also settled on a nearby patio for a delightful lunch in the open air. I was certainly blessed with good weather for almost all of my outdoor time! A couple of short blocks east of the Triton is an unremarkable intersection which has been made remarkable by the incorporation of four sculptured fountains, one inset into the building on each corner. Here they are:

 

This, of course, is the reason why the street leading to this junction from the Piazza Barberini is called the Via del Quattro Fontane.

 

That was all in one intensive, exhausting day, a day in which I walked a distance of some 11 kilometres. My second day looked more modest in the planning, but turned out to involve almost as much work for my feet on the mixture of pavement and cobblestones. Good thing I enjoy walking!

 

That second day also involved use of the Rome transit system. And thereby hangs a tale. When I came to Rome in 1971, the currency at the time was the old Italian lira, of which it took about 620 to make up one Canadian dollar (if my memory can be trusted on the rate!). The point was that a 5-lire coin was all but worthless, less than a Canadian penny. In fact, it was so cheap that it was made out of plastic and then painted silver. So why bother? The story we were told was that it was kept on because 5 lire had been the fare on the Rome transit system since forever and ever, and any attempt to raise the fare would always lead to a general strike of workers in the city until the transit authority backed down. I know that at the end of that 1971 visit I had one 5-lire coin left. I'd used the other one to pitch into the Trevi fountain!

 

Today, of course, it's much more expensive. You can, if you wish, simply tap your card on a turnstile if using the subway. But hang on a second. If you're going to ride more than twice in any given day, get yourself a day pass for €7.00. I got it at a ticket machine, and just tapped that. I'd have paid quite a bit more if I'd bought single fares for my four rides with a tap of my card.

 

 I also had a huge advantage in staying so close to the Termini station, the only place where the A and B lines of the Metro cross each other. This was my day to visit the two Major Basilicas which I had not yet seen. Both are located somewhat farther away from the main historic sights of the city, and both of them have nearby Metro stations named after them.

 

My first trip was a half dozen stops on Line B to the station BASILICA S.PAOLO. As I left the station, I found myself standing at an intersection from which I could see one prominent tower. I walked that way, and kept walking and walking.... 

 

Was it the right direction? Well, yes -- sort of. San Paolo Fuori le Mura ("St. Paul's Outside the Walls") occupies a large rectangular plot of land which is deemed by the Italian government to be Vatican territory. The trick is that this plot of land sits on the street corner diagonally opposite the entrance to the Metro, and the entrance to the church proper is located behind the office and residence wings at the diagonally opposite corner of the property. So whichever way you go will feel like the "wrong" way.

 

Source map: Google Maps

 

Once you pass through the security check and walk under the perimeter arcade, this is what you will see.

 

 

 

The elaborate mosaics inside and out are a distinguishing mark of this church which houses the tomb of St. Paul, the "Apostle to the Gentiles" as he is often described in Christian tradition. In fact, much of what you see was built in the nineteenth century after the church was devastated by a large-scale earthquake. Earthquakes figure in the history of pretty nearly every historic building or ruin in Rome.

 

Returning from St. Paul, I took the B line back to Termini, and then walked through long passages and rode down several lengthy escalators to reach the deep, DEEP tunnel holding the station for Line A. This line runs much farther underground for almost all of its journey, when Line B often comes out and runs at the surface or elevated once it pulls clear of the central core.

 

This time it was just 3 stops from Termini to San Giovanni. Coming up to the surface, the first thing you see is the San Giovanni gate in the old city walls.

 

Pass through the gate and look up the slight rise to your left, and there is the destination: the Basilica of San Giovanni Laterano, also called the Lateran Basilica. 

 

 

There's a complex history behind that name "Lateran" but what matters here is that this Major Basilica is also the Cathedral of the Archdiocese of Rome. And here's the odd twist: the Pope is not just the titular head of the Roman Catholic Church worldwide, but also (by long-standing protocol) the Bishop of Rome within the Church. So: while St. Peter's in the Vatican City is the Pope's seat as the Holy Father, the Lateran Basilica is the Cathedral or seat of the Pope as Archbishop of Rome. There's a lot of history behind that distinction too.

 

In my humble opinion, the Lateran is the most overwhelming of all the Roman churches. To be sure, St. Peter's is far bigger -- but it's largely a bigness of geometry and structure, lacking human dimension. The entire nave of the Lateran Basilica is lined with a dozen or more enormous statues of saints and prophets, somewhere in the area (at a rough guess) of two and a half times life size in height. Even the wall frescoes above the arches feature far larger than life-sized figures. The impression these artworks create is to make the viewer feel small or insignificant, even overwhelmed, by comparison -- and I'm reasonably sure that this was the intention. 

 

 

At the back of the apse, behind the high altar, stands the cathedra, the official seat of the Bishop (who, in this case, is also the Pope).

 

 Upon leaving St. John in Lateran, I returned to the Line A Metro station and rode the line a further nine stops out into the suburbs. Leaving the Metro at the station of Giulio Agricola, I walked four blocks southwest on Viale Giulio Agricola, a suburban street lined with apartment buildings with a few shops and cafes in the ground floors. At the end of the street, I turned left a few hundred metres and came to the Park of the Aqueducts.

 

 

Bits of ruined Roman aqueducts can be seen in several places around the city. This park, which is a segment of the Via Appia Antica Regional Park, contains an extended portion of the aqueduct built in the 1500s by one of the Popes to try to restore the ancient city's domestic water system. Although now 5 centuries old, this work is surrounded by odd bits of much older ancient Roman construction. The park extends on for a fair number of kilometres with many remnants located in different spots. 

 

I don't know what I expected, but what mattered was what I got: peace and quiet. This proved to be an important breather from the relentless noise and crowding of the more famous tourist sites, and that time of peace was far more important to me than I realized -- until I got there, sat down, and experienced it.

 

Yes, Rome is incredible -- but sometimes you just have to sit down and let it all go for a while before you tackle it again.

 

 

 

The November Epic # 4: Major City, Hit and Run

Yes, all cruise tours tend to be hit-and-run. I knew this one would be. The surprise was to feel after the tour that I had actually gotten a fairly thorough look at a city which was entirely new to me. For sure, it was a good enough look to make me eager to come back as soon as possible!

So let me welcome you to a city where enormous public squares rub shoulders with narrow little alleyway-sized shopping streets…,

 …where houses are painted in brilliant colours or decorated with thousands upon thousands of cheerful ceramic tiles…,

…where the car is not king and public transit can take the form of little 24-seat wooden trams built as long ago as 1903.

 

Welcome to Lisboa, known in English as Lisbon.

Right off the bat, I want to pass on a language lesson for those who are not familiar with Portuguese, either the continental European or the Brazilian varieties.

Lisboa is pronounced “Leezh-bo-a,” with the “zh” representing the soft “j” sound of French “jeudi.”

Want to say, “good day?” That’s “bom dia,” with the “m” sounding almost like an “n.” That’s in Europe. In Brazil, as one of the ship’s officers had already explained to us, it comes out as “bom gee-ah.”

All in all, our tour guide summed it up this way: if you’re familiar with Spanish, you will be able to read and understand a fair number of Portuguese words and phrases (although not, all by any means). Being able to follow spoken Portuguese, with all its unusual twists of pronunciation, including the softening of many consonant sounds – well, that’s another custard tart altogether.

In any case, Lisboa is one of the older cites of Europe, with a heritage as a major commercial port stretching back to the Phoenicians, who were believed to have arrived here as early as 2900 years ago. Today, it’s a large, bustling port and business centre still, one of the major metropolitan cities of the world.

But that’s today. Much of the city was a heap of smoking ruins 263 years ago, after the main dividing point in the city’s history: the great Lisboa earthquake of 1755. Believed to have been the strongest earthquake in recorded history, with an estimated rating of 9 on the Richter scale, it reduced most of Lisboa to heaps of rubble, set off innumerable fires, and spawned a tsunami which flooded into the city at an estimated height of 10 metres (30-plus feet). So, much of what you see in Lisboa today has been built or extensively rebuilt and restored since 1755.

My tour here had two different parts. The first part was a trip through the streets of Lisboa on one of those antique wooden trams. We were following the route of the public transit line # 28, which snakes up and down through the hilly streets in the Alfama district, behind the cruise port area. More accurately, # 28 was following us since there was one of the yellow, 1935-vintage city trams leaving the terminus loop right behind our two red tour vehicles.

During the tram tour, we were served a quintessential Lisboa treat: a glass of port wine and a rich, sweet custard tart. One small glass of wine and one bite of a tart was all the sugar I could stand for one day. It helps to explain why I dozed off later on during the bus ride back to the ship!

Our departure point was right outside the Basilica da Estrela, which was built in fulfillment of a religious vow made by Princess Maria, who financed the beginning of the work after she succeeded King Joseph I on the throne as Queen Maria I.

The most hair-raising hills and curves were handled with seeming nonchalance by our tram driver and the tram itself. These centenarians move slowly, but that’s mainly so that they don’t hop the tracks on any of the curves or hills – some samples of which are shown here.

 Yes, the hills really do get this steep!

The biggest bottleneck on the whole route is the spot where some 200 metres of road are shared by traffic in opposite directions, controlled by traffic signals so that only one direction can go through at a time. Here, the eastbound and westbound tram tracks are interlaced.

All along the way, we saw life in Lisboa in all its variety: shoppers and snackers and morning caffeiners, students and adults and the elderly, drivers and walkers and cyclists, highbrow stores, lowbrow cafes, and everything in between. We passed large, dignified buildings like the Cathedral, looking almost as much a medieval fortress as a church….

 ... a theatre looking like a department store, and a railway station doing the same.

 

 

Everywhere we went, we passed numerous apartments of varying sizes. As in all of the world’s major cities, single-family homes in the central districts are virtually non-existent. All along the route, we kept getting into the most ridiculously narrow streets that anyone ever thought of running a tram line through. The reason is simple – these are some of the wider streets in the Alfama district which this tram line serves.

If you're wondering where the other track is here, it's in an adjacent street. If you're thinking that the trams look tiny, you're not wrong -- and it's not just their seating capacity either. The tracks are built to a narrow gauge to make the work of climbing and turning sharp corners easier.

At the east end of the tram ride, at Praça Martim Moniz, we transferred back to a coach to visit a few major sights lying far to the west of the downtown area.

The first of these is called the Torre de Belém. This fortress sits right at the point where the broad estuary of the Tagus narrows down to a channel which can be controlled by gunfire. 

You just knew this guy was going to stick his nose in again, didn’t you?

A few hundred metres east of the tower is a historic lighthouse, and east of that again is a commanding monument on the riverbank which you couldn’t possibly miss except in a dense fog: the Monument of the Discoveries.

The monument depicts Prince Henry the Navigator, leading the march and holding a caravel, a typical merchant ship of the time, in his hand. Prince Henry was forbidden by law to go exploring himself as a member of the royal family, but as a second-best he could spearhead the efforts to build better ships and finance better prepared explorations. He did, and here he stands, with the various famous explorers lined up behind him on the left side, and on the right side the shipbuilders, sailmakers, craft people, and cartographers whose contributions did so much to advance western European knowledge of the world again from the darkness and oblivion into which it had descended with the fall of Rome.

 

And before anyone gets ready to toss me into the garbage bin, I can assure you that I am fully cognizant of the downstream effects of these exploratory voyages, both evil and good. 

Directly behind the Monument, and across the railway tracks and highway, lies the Mosteiro dos Jeronimós (Jeronimós Monastery), the burial site of Vasco da Gama, one of the leading explorers. This group of sites requires a lengthy side trip from the city centre area, either by car or by public transit.

The views are dominated by the imposing suspension bridge across the Tagus, completed in 1966. Originally named after the dictator Salazar, the name was changed after he died and the dictatorial regime under his successor was overthrown, and it’s now called the 25^th of April Bridge in honour of the date of the Carnation Revolution which ended the dictatorship.

Our final stop was at the upper end of King Edward VII Park, named in honour of the British King who was a great friend of Portugal during his reign from 1901-1913. By this time, the distance was growing hazy but the view does extend on a clear day across the centre of the city and the Tagus to the far shore.

One of the things Lisboa has in common with many other European cities is the fiendish limestone cobbles on streets and sidewalks, which become slippery as ice when wet. In this city, only two colours are used: light grey and black. A number of places have them laid in a swirling pattern of waves which are appropriate for a maritime city, but which are said to give some people motion sickness.

 

And here’s a spot where the tree roots are really doing a number on what was originally a smooth and level sidewalk. This one nearly gave me motion sickness as I walked across it.

At the end of our visit, we departed in daylight for our next leg, and that gave me a chance to get a whole series of views across the entire city, from the Alfama district right behind our cruise terminal…

… to the hilltop St. George fortress…,

… to the Commerce Plaza on the riverbank, …           

… to the Basilica de Estrela, its dome and towers plainly visible across the lower buildings, …

… to our passage under the bridge, …

 … and finally, the monastery, monument, and Belem Tower on the north bank just before the river mouth widened out to more open water.

I have barely scratched the surface with Lisboa. I will be back!

Here's the updated map of our itinerary.

Source Base Map:  https://freevectormaps.com/world-maps/europe/WRLD-EU-01-0002?ref=atr

  

NOTE:  This post has been delayed due to technical issues with the ship's internet. Ever since the voyage began, we've been running on a slow signal when in port, and the signal has all but vanished when we are at sea. Our visit to Lisboa was on November 14. It was only this morning, somewhere west of the Azores, that we suddenly found ourselves with a properly-working internet, and I was finally able to update with this post.  With any luck, it will not take as many days again for me to complete my post about the visit to Ponta Delgada in the Azores.