At 7:30 a.m. on Saturday the 16th, I was awake. Perhaps it was jet lag, excitement, the people coughing in the courtyard below the open window, or all of the above; I can’t be sure. I ducked my head out to let Matthius, the front-desk attendant, know that I was cancelling my 8:30 a.m. wake-up. Matthias is the only staff member of the B&B whose name I got to know, and he was as jovial as when I’d met him at 11 p.m. on the 15th. He assured me that they could make room for me in the breakfast room because I’d scheduled to have breakfast at nine. I wasn’t at all prepared to have breakfast with strangers in a small room, un-showered. I waited in the room, listening to and watching the people of the adjacent buildings hang laundry and smoke on their small balconies overlooking the courtyard. I studied my tourist map of Rome.
I left the B&B around 10 a.m. without a schedule or itinerary and a rough idea of the direction in which I wanted to travel. And the sites I hoped to find there. In doing this, I often saw things that were not listed on any map, like the basilica just around the corner from my B&B, tucked between condos on a narrow side street. This was the first place at which I purchased a souvenir. A postcard that showed the full mosaic on the floor. The counter at the back of the basilica was full of souvenirs. I perused the cards for some time before anyone realized I was there. An Italian gentleman came by to take my money for the cards, but having no small change, I gave him a 5 euro bill. He wouldn’t take it because he wasn’t able to make change, so I added another postcard worth 1 euro. He took off, saying, “One moment, one moment”. I waited, and five minutes later, he came back and counted out my change in 10-cent pieces.
I made my way down the street and came out at Via Nazionale. A major road with a lot of traffic. Following this, I found myself at the Piazza della Repubblica and the Fountain of the Naiads. Here, I had an Italian woman and her husband take my photo. It’s the only photo I have of myself in Rome.
I followed the fountain around to the left and up the road. I was walking my way toward the Santa Maria della Concezione dei Cappuccini near the Piazza Barberini and the Fontana del Tritone; the church houses the Capuchin museum and crypt, a place that I had always wanted to see. Along the way, I found an old building marked “Planetario”. The dome on top was still intact, though the walls of the building had been lost around it. I walked on and on. Eventually, the road I was on opened up to a square where the Triton Fountain, commissioned to the renowned sculptor Bernini, stood in the middle. I knew that the Capuchin crypt had to be nearby. I walked around the fountain a few times, watching Triton push water from his mouth through a conch, his arms raised to hold it there, straight up. I located the church by backtracking one street, took a look around, and made my way to the museum next door.
Photos are not allowed but you can find some online. The museum was full of paintings of former friars, their personal history, and the artifacts they carried. After carefully reading every plaque attributed to some painting or vitrine of objects, followed by a small section on present-day Capuchin Friars, I turned a corner and came upon a small stair set and the smell of dirt. The first thing one sees are bones, a lot of bones. The air is dry, and a hall opens to five dimly-lit chapels. The hallway is arched and narrow, so you are pushed to either side, on one side, closer to the remains of friars stacked to the ceiling, and on the other, against the bare cement wall of the hallway, beneath lamps elaborately decorated in bones. The entire crypt is decorated: pelvic bones are set behind skulls on the ceiling to make it look as though the skulls have wings, while other bones are used to recreate the shape of the hourglass. In one chapel, two friars lying and three standing are set beneath the small skeleton known as the Barberini Princess, armed with a scythe. There were few other tourists in the crypt, so I was able to slowly make my way down the hall to take in each chapel and read every plaque en route. In a fleeting thought, I wondered if the friars would have protested against being gaped at by so many, but I continued. I don’t think that I’ve ever been so surrounded by death in the way that I was at the crypt, though the craftsmanship behind the display made everything feel natural and in place. For me, the Capuchin Crypt, the final resting place of nearly 4000 friars, is a memento mori in the form of a work of art.
I left the crypt, which ended rather unceremoniously at the bookshop where I picked up a postcard, and stumbled out into daylight. Shortly, I found myself walking uphill and atop the Spanish Steps. The Spanish Steps offer an amazing view of Rome, but a better and loftier view can be found near the Church of Trinita Dei Monti, built in the early 1500s.
From here, I located the Palazzo Zuccari, also known as the “Monster House”. I had planned to visit the Keats-Shelley Memorial House at the bottom of the steps, but it was closed construction. The streets at the bottom of the Spanish Steps were filled with tourists who were either eating, shopping, or puzzling over a map. Again, the street eventually opened up to a square. I had found the Piazza del Popolo. I took quite a few photos here. I stopped with a little polar bear I carried with me and posed it next to a sphinx. At this point, I decided to turn back in the direction of my B&B.
Strolling, as I’m prone to do, I crossed a bridge over the Tevere River. Along the Tevere, I spotted a familiar sight: the top of a building I’d seen in the distance from the landing of the Trinita dei Monti, followed by a castle and, finally, the seat of the Holy See. I wasn’t entirely expecting to find myself walking toward Vatican City, but I’d decided to continue toward the looming dome of the Basilica of St. Peter and the surrounding columns. For a moment, I contemplated joining the line, but the security checkpoint was crawling, and the day was getting shorter fast. It was hot, people milled around without purpose, so I wandered my way back to the Tevere River via a side street, through an alleyway covered in wheat pastes that opened onto the Fontana dei Quattro Fiumi, another beautiful fountain sculpted by Bernini. I returned later in the evening to see the fountain lit up at night. From there, I weaved my way through narrow streets and the sound of utensils clashing on plates. It was dinner time, but I wasn’t hungry, so I decided I’d continue exploring.
And there was the Pantheon. It was large and set back off of the square, surrounded by early diners. The front was open to those having dinner, who could stare into it over their glass of wine. The facade is grand, and I found it difficult to approach the large, ancient building. In the center of the square, men dressed in cheap plastic Gladiator costumes ran after tourists for photo ops and tips. The doors hidden behind the columns were open, so I decided to go in. I marvelled at the ceiling for some time. You can find similar ceiling structures elsewhere in Rome, but the ones I found were no longer fully intact. The large hole in the top of the ceiling is the only source by which natural light comes in, so it was difficult to get a decent shot of the interior.
Eventually, I reached Capitoline Hill, Ancient Rome, and along the Forum to the Colosseum. By the time I’d reached the Colosseum, I’d exhausted my legs. I took a few photos along the way, my last being of this ancient building lit up from the inside at dusk, giving it the semblance of an empty shell. I would return to Capitoline Hill again the next day, determined to climb to the top. When I found myself back at the B&B, I was somewhat relieved because it meant that I could rest both my eyes and feet. I let reception know that I’d be having breakfast at the same time and set a wake-up call for 8:30 a.m. In my room, I turned on the air, closed the window, cleaned my feet (covered in a layer of dirt from walking all day in sandals), then passed out into a blissful sleep. I had put in a full day of Rome.
