Sunday, June 13, 2010
Last Day. Cool Day.
Sorry it's taken me about a month to say what happened in the last day of our trip. I hope it's better late than it would be never.
First thing: Bernini's St. Teresa in Ecstasy. Really cool. It's in another one of those no-name churches. (With free entry. Best part.)
First thing: Bernini's St. Teresa in Ecstasy. Really cool. It's in another one of those no-name churches. (With free entry. Best part.)
Have you ever stood in line two hours for an art exhibit? I don't think we ever had. We read about this Caravaggio exhibit, where they were bringing together a bunch of his works from all the phases of his career. In fact, we were pissed earlier because the Caravaggio section at the Ufizzi in Florence was closed, since they were loaning things to this Roman exhibit. Anyway, yesterday we came down here to find a super long line, and decided it wasn't worth it. We tried going to another church that houses his works, and just our luck, Thursday was the only afternoon when the church closed. So we came back to try and get in line for the exhibit this morning before the museum even opened. It was still long, though not quite like yesterday. We waited about an hour before the door opened, then they started letting the people without reservations (the long line we were in) in 10 at a time, every 10 minutes. We figured we still had a good hour and a half, but decided it was worth it-- we'd been foiled at every turn in our efforts to see Caravaggio, and he's one our favorites, and we were going to see him, darn it. Anyway, we sent Nate back to the hotel to get books for us to read in line. But-- big surprise-- the line started moving fast as soon as he left. We had to let a few groups go ahead of us as we loitered at the front of the line before Nate finally returned.
Can I tell you, though, it was all so worth it. Caravaggio was incredible. So human. He killed a guy during a tennis game and spent the last four of his 39 years on earth in exile. The exhibit was so gorgeously set up, too.
After that was the Vatican. I have to say it's cool to actually see these places that made such a deep impression on you in Martha Peacock's art history class freshman year. Bernini's plaza out front of St. Peter's Basilica, with these colonnades that reach out like arms to gather you up into the arms of God's love.
Then we waited in line for the Vatican museum before finally getting in, and being swept along in a current of human sweat past about One Million Chunks of Classical Statuary. It was sincerely ridiculous. But we did see this gem:
After that was the Vatican. I have to say it's cool to actually see these places that made such a deep impression on you in Martha Peacock's art history class freshman year. Bernini's plaza out front of St. Peter's Basilica, with these colonnades that reach out like arms to gather you up into the arms of God's love.
Then we waited in line for the Vatican museum before finally getting in, and being swept along in a current of human sweat past about One Million Chunks of Classical Statuary. It was sincerely ridiculous. But we did see this gem:
?!?!?!?!?!?!?
There was actually a lot of great stuff there. We saw some Raphael frescoes, including the School of Athens, you know, that famous one with Plato and Socrates, that guy from history. Everyone was so intent on getting to the highlight at the end of the museum-- and there was just such an exhausting quantity of stuff-- they were just walking right past all this modern religious art toward the end of the museum. Dali, Chagall, Orozco, Rivera, Siqueiros-- it was really cool stuff, and Nate was the one who noticed it. People were seriously just walking past as if it were some kids' kindergarten fingerpaintings that had been on the fridge for 7 months already.
Well, finally, we got there, and it was worth the wait: the Sistine Chapel. It really was totally breathtaking. Just go see it for yourself. Photos were prohibited and I didn't want to be one of those farts who was trying to take pictures of it anyway. A picture does nothing for it. But man, did they pack the people in there. It was practically shoulder to shoulder with people from all over God's great earth. Which, you know, some might say cheapened it, but I actually thought it was kind of cool.
St. Peter's was also really impressive. It's big, it's gold, it's fancy. Fancy pants.
We sent postcards from the Vatican post office, with Vatican stamps-- it's its own country, after all.
Outside the Vatican, in one of the numberless touristy souvenir shops in the nearby streets, our backpack got stolen when we put it down to try on hooded sweatshirts. Luckily I left this laptop in the hotel that day, so we didn't lose anything very pricey.
It rained, and we bought umbrellas from the Bangladeshi guys selling them on every street corner. We were almost out of cash, so one guy took pounds.
Well, we had a few errands to run on our last day. I have about 77 friends who got married while I was in Europe, so I wanted to get them something nice and also distinctly Italian. I asked the hotel manager where I could get my hands on some good olive oil, and he directed me to a well-known wine shop a few blocks away. TRIMANI. The place was awesome-- huge-- shelves on shelves on shelves of wine, with one corner dedicated to olive oil. Still, there was enough variety, and I'm enough of an olive oil novice, I asked the guy working there which olive oil was the best. His name was Alessandro, and he's awesome. He said, "It depends on what you want to use it for. To drink . . . I prefer wine." He then proceeded to tell us which oil was best for using with fish, and which oil was overpriced because it came from a famous wine farm, and which oil came only from one species of olive tree. When I decided which one I wanted, he wrapped up the six or seven bottles I bought in bubble wrap since I'd have to pack them in my checked luggage.
We asked Alessandro if there were any good places to eat close by, and he thought about it really seriously. He called over his boss Paolo, and they furrowed their brows trying to find the perfect place within our price range. Paolo called a bunch of restaurants on the phone: "Nico! Paolo Trimani." Yeah, as in, Trimani wine shop. "Look, I've got three American kids in my shop looking for a good place to eat. Do you have any tables tonight?" Apparently a lot of people like the restaurants our new benefactors like, because the first couple of restaurants Paolo called were full for the night. Finally he managed to reach Mauro at Tram Tram, who booked us a table. We thanked Paolo and Alessandro, and Paolo said, "Tell Mauro, Paolo says hi."
We had to take a bus to Tram Tram, in the University district. We delivered Paulo's greetings, and Mauro said he'd been expecting us. The meal, guys, was exquisite. Mussels-- have you ever had those? Delicious. Fried anchovies. Swordfish. There was a lot of other great food I can't even remember. Panna Cotta. It was awesome. Mauro himself was our server.
Outside the Vatican, in one of the numberless touristy souvenir shops in the nearby streets, our backpack got stolen when we put it down to try on hooded sweatshirts. Luckily I left this laptop in the hotel that day, so we didn't lose anything very pricey.
It rained, and we bought umbrellas from the Bangladeshi guys selling them on every street corner. We were almost out of cash, so one guy took pounds.
Well, we had a few errands to run on our last day. I have about 77 friends who got married while I was in Europe, so I wanted to get them something nice and also distinctly Italian. I asked the hotel manager where I could get my hands on some good olive oil, and he directed me to a well-known wine shop a few blocks away. TRIMANI. The place was awesome-- huge-- shelves on shelves on shelves of wine, with one corner dedicated to olive oil. Still, there was enough variety, and I'm enough of an olive oil novice, I asked the guy working there which olive oil was the best. His name was Alessandro, and he's awesome. He said, "It depends on what you want to use it for. To drink . . . I prefer wine." He then proceeded to tell us which oil was best for using with fish, and which oil was overpriced because it came from a famous wine farm, and which oil came only from one species of olive tree. When I decided which one I wanted, he wrapped up the six or seven bottles I bought in bubble wrap since I'd have to pack them in my checked luggage.
Alessandro.
We asked Alessandro if there were any good places to eat close by, and he thought about it really seriously. He called over his boss Paolo, and they furrowed their brows trying to find the perfect place within our price range. Paolo called a bunch of restaurants on the phone: "Nico! Paolo Trimani." Yeah, as in, Trimani wine shop. "Look, I've got three American kids in my shop looking for a good place to eat. Do you have any tables tonight?" Apparently a lot of people like the restaurants our new benefactors like, because the first couple of restaurants Paolo called were full for the night. Finally he managed to reach Mauro at Tram Tram, who booked us a table. We thanked Paolo and Alessandro, and Paolo said, "Tell Mauro, Paolo says hi."
We had to take a bus to Tram Tram, in the University district. We delivered Paulo's greetings, and Mauro said he'd been expecting us. The meal, guys, was exquisite. Mussels-- have you ever had those? Delicious. Fried anchovies. Swordfish. There was a lot of other great food I can't even remember. Panna Cotta. It was awesome. Mauro himself was our server.
Then we came home.
So that was the trip. Let's do it again sometime.
Love,
W.
So that was the trip. Let's do it again sometime.
Love,
W.
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