The size of Rome centre is such that it’s all do-able on foot. Problem is, is that there’s so much to do.
A short twenty minute “Urbano” train ride from Prima Porta into Rome’s Flaminia station drops us into pole position for the prime sites.
First port of call, the massive Victor Emmanuel II memorial building – dedicated to the first king of the united Italy. We are keeping in touch with Rudi & Bille, some lovely friends we met in Sorrento. They recommended a trip to the very top. The reward, a spectacular 360 view of the whole city. We’re not disappointed.
Lunchtime finds us eating our sarnies parked up on two round cannonballs in front of the Pontifical Gregorian University. It’s lunchtime too for a young “trainee” priest. He’s wearing traditional black. Black hair, black collar, black shoes, black rucksack plus an invisible “L” plate. Coming down the entrance steps he’s approached by a beggar. Few words are exchanged. He walks on, but then beckons the beggar over. Opens his rucksack, takes out his rolls. Shares them. They stand facing. Eating and chatting for twenty minutes. He’s now wearing a visible “L”ove plate.
If it’s a must have photo, then Trevi Fountain is where you go. The masses are being kept under strict control. One lone ranger. No silver bullet. Just a silver whistle. His shrill spills over most heads. Lost in translation. We’re cracking up. Watching from above. It’s like watching an old black and white comedy, but in colour. Pianoforte replaced by Harpo’s whistle. Calamitous crowd control ensues. One section is “out of bounds”. An EU safety guideline is under threat and needs enforcing. At all costs. As soon as one photofanatic is whistled off, another steps in from the wings. An endless supply of auditioning bit part actors. No one on cue. He may as well have been whistling down the wind for all the good he achieves. Everyone is having fun though. Even him.
