The Rome excursion

11/29 – Pizzo to Rome

Nancy, the University professor / American / key holder to Gaia’s apartment, had alluded to the possibility of an encounter between me and the tourism graduate program back in October at one of Rome’s public Universities. I told her at the time that I would love to participate in such an encounter, and would return to Rome for it if it worked out. A month later, I got the call from Nancy, and it turned out that the University had approved, and that I was to speak on December 1st.

After walking for nearly five months, there was a lot I wanted to say about tourism in Italy, as you faithful readers well know. With my hours and hours of good ol’ fashioned thinking time, I set it all out in order, thought it all through, and was more than prepared to speak about my ideas.

I have never been invited to speak at a University before, and even though I pictured a small audience, the very fact of a public University paying my train ticket for me to speak my mind was an exhilarating honor. Just as important to me was the fact that I got to go back to Rome, see old friends, and eat a home-cooked, authentic Thanksgiving dinner, prepared by Nancy and her friends. So, as the Calabrese sun broke through the clouds after a string of bad-weather days, I boarded a six-hour train to Rome, and after getting a meaningful and perspective-altering look at much of the land I had covered, I got off at Roma Termini, the main train station, and slowly adjusted to being back in the eternal city.

What a mess! I was country mouse visiting city mouse, staring wide-eyed at the rushing masses, flashing ads, and gigantic proportions of my surroundings. Culture shock, like I had experienced upon entering Campania about a month earlier, flooded over me as I followed the mass of bodies onto a speeding underground tube.

It only took a few stops on the metro for me to regain my bearings, and emerging in front of the Circus Maximus felt just about right. Only now, in fact, do I realize just how ridiculous that is, that a metro sped me to an Ancient Roman race track. I hope I never grow so accustomed to Rome that I forget to stand in awe of the precious art-historical footprint all around me.

I arrived at Nancy’s house soon after, and found them in the final stages of Thanksgiving preparation. After a quick change and shower, I helped in what small ways I could, but mostly snacked, sampled, and caught up with the family. Oh, family time, how I missed thee, especially when family time means watching Family Guy, as well as the Simpsons, with Matt, Nancy’s younger son. The best part? Both were in English, no dubbing. Family time also means responsibility, however, and soon it was time for the Movable Feast to travel (carefully) down the stairs (whatever you do, don’t spill the gravy) and by car to Cinzia’s house.

Cinzia hosted around 12 or 13 of us, including my friend Carlo, the half-American walker from Albano Laziale, who I had invited in order to share with him this most American of holidays. Everyone ate, I gorged, and when my second helping was larger than everyone else’s entire meal, it hit me that I was the only one in the room who had eaten more Thanksgivings in the US than abroad. They looked at me with courteously concealed awe and disgust as I did y’all proud, but luckily for me I had the whole “walking” excuse. Little did they know!

The company was as delicious as the food, a mixture of interesting intellectuals with various interests. We talked literature and travel, pored through a book of Orazio and Artemisia Gentileschi, and stuck around till midnight, when the tryptophan kicked in and everyone scattered. I went back with Carlo to Albano, and after chatting a while, we both went to bed.

11/30 – In Rome, but wouldn’t have known it

Carlo dropped me off at Nancy’s, and I sat at the computer all day working on this blog. I apologize an awful lot for not writing often enough, but if you look at my November output, you will see one post for each day of the month, with two leftover for all that apologizing. Well, on this last day of the month, I spent hours uploading photos and transcribing chicken scratch, and when I looked up, haggard and bleary-eyed, it was dark outside, and the family had gathered to watch Everything is Illuminated (in English! Huzzah!)

When the movie was over, it was time for dinner, but not for me, Matt, and his girlfriend Julia. Instead, Matt invited me to join them at a hip Rome lounge/club for an aperitivo, roughly translated as an appetizer cocktail, which in many cases turns into an all-you-can-eat frenzy. For the first time in months, I donned some fashionable going out threads: jeans, a collared shirt, and a blue sweater. Matt, who is around my size, offered me his clothes, and in doing so made me feel like a million bucks. No, clothes don’t make the man, but wear the same two pants and four shirts for five months and then come talk to me.

The crowd at the lounge was a little too hip and a little too young, so we escaped after a big meal, and made way to a chill little bar in my old ‘hood, Trastevere, which Julia had picked out. We hung out, did what young adults do, played some over-sized Connect Four and pick up stix, and after a trip to the trippy psychedelic bathroom, it was back to the house.