Viva Roma!

Could be a Elizabeth Taylor but no, its me!

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The underground of the colosseum

Travelling through the dark streets of Rome from the airport, it is hard to make out the shapes and shadows as you speed by...until my driver points out - over there is the Marcus Aurelius arch, and there, that dip along side the road, that is the Circus Maximus. I open my tired eyes even wider trying to take it in but it seems too hard to believe.

The Hotel d'Inghilterra is a haven set into the heart of Rome. Moments from the Spanish Steps I sleep and tread where more notable peope have gone before! Franz Liszt, Hans Christian Anderson, Shelley and Keats and of recent ilk, Elizabeth Taylor. I feel like I am in good company. I have the added bonus of a balcony overlooking the Via Borgognona - the equivalent of the Paris end of Collins st Melbourne. With a glass of champagne last evening, I sat and watched the sun set over the terracotta tiled rooftops, heard the voices rise up from the street and surprisingly, the call of seagulls. That was unexpected! Better by far the accordian playing busker playing hits from the '50's - Dean Martin would have been pleased.

C does not always stand for Cold on the bathroom tap LOL. It took me a little while to remember that Ancient Romans when they bathed went from the calidarium (warm) water to the frigidarium (cold) water. So C is for warm, F is for cold.

C is also for Via Condotti, the other major shopping strip near the hotel. Ah Gucci, I am glad something from your store is coming home with me. But this visit is not about shopping (those of you who know me well may laugh!) it is about adventure and history. Friday I explored the city. Rome is remarkably easy to get around and the major attractions are relatively close by. The Spanish Steps in the morning before the crowds - up one side, down the other and at the top, a remarkable view of the city. Onto the Trevi Fountain - no coins to toss over my shoulder as it is undergoing renovation but I am sure some other superstitious way will be found to ensure I return to this wonderful city. Then on to the Pantheon - a Roman temple turned Church and a remarkable architectural feat - and the last resting place for the artist Raphael.

Saturday was an early start as I was joining a tour of the Colosseum. Nothing quite prepares you for the surprise and awe of seeing such a building as you approach from the road. Built in only 8 years and holding up to 70,000 people it is still easy to imagine the sounds of the crowd, the gladiators fighting and dying, the roar of the lions and other wild animals pitted against each other and other sad souls for entertainment.

Walking through the tunnels the gladiators walked before heading out on the arena was moving - the original floor still in place and the tunnel where the dead and dying were dragged at the end. Thumb up - you lived, thumb down - you died.

From the large to the small - a quiet visit to the home of John Keats, poet. I remember studying "Ode to a Nightingale" while at school - do they even do this anymore? And there in the corner of the room, the bed upon which he died. Somewhat disconcertingly, his death mask attached to the wall nearby.

So tonight I shall raise my glass of Pinot Grigio to the past, to the gladiators and poets and other Romans who walked these streets and shall think to the tomorrow - Pompeii!