My Favorite Graffitti

Graffiti is one of the oldest methods of transmitting information through words and/or pictures, and in Rome, something ubiquitous. It is an Italian word, after all. Even Pompeii has graffiti, and Ancient Rome was famous for it. Now, most of the graffiti tells me such important things as 'Flavio is lame' or 'Marco loves Giulia' (you'd be amazed at how much of the graffiti in Rome is declaring love in one way or another), but every once in a while I come across something really spectacular. The below picture represents not only my favorite graffiti in the city of Rome, but also the hard work of someone who might be a kindred soul:


If the text at the bottom of the image is too hard to read, it says:
YOU ARE 8851 STEPS FROM THE AURELIAN WALL
And below, the same in Italian. As you can see, this data is accompanied by a map of the city of Rome with the Aurelian walls marked in red. The red plus signs represent the places where this clever artist posted this graffiti, changing the number of steps at each location.

I am incredibly impressed that someone took the time to figure out how many steps it took to get from the old city walls (built in the 3rd century AD) to the wall on which this was painted. Also, this mysterious tagger somehow got or made a stencil in the shape of Rome, with some of the streets marked out. The photo here I was lucky to find, because the first time I saw this image was on a wall only a few blocks from my apartment. Not having my camera with me at that moment, I resolved to come back later and take the photo. However, when I returned, camera in hand, more graffiti had been sprayed over most of the map, declaring 'Via Induno Libera!' ('Free Via Induno!' From what, I do not know. I think it is a pun on another street in our neighborhood, which is actually called Via Roma Libera [Street of the Free Rome]). I tried to edit the writing out of the map, but my photoshop skills are not that honed. Within a week, both graffiti were painted over and the wall was blank again. I found this one recently on a wall behind the Forum, where I had wandered on an afternoon off from work.

Secret Ingredients

Around the corner from my apartment is a restaurant that does a pretty consistent business. It is a small place, and very clearly locally run. It is so local that it has no discernible name, it is just recognizable. I have never eaten in this place, because I usually eat in another local place just up the street when I am looking for basic, 'real' Italian food, but perhaps I should rethink this decision. Recently, I have noticed more and more people eating at this restaurant, and have wondered what is behind the upswing in business. Last night, however, as I was walking past this place (on my way home from my local), I caught sight of a sign that is advertising the secret ingredients that seem to be drawing a crowd of regulars:


Now, I have no idea how to put 'Italian Love' into a pizza, and definitely no idea what 'amazing' is, but clearly, this is a winning combination.

Rome in August...

...is a ghost town! It is also approximately the same temperature as the surface of the sun, except more humid. Last year I managed to get myself to Ireland before the dog days of summer really kicked in, but this year, I am in Rome, and working the whole month. The heat, however, is nothing compared to the silence in the city. My neighborhood is usually full of families and screaming children (which I don't miss as much as some other things), and the piazza has shops all around it that are now boarded up with signs reading: Chiuso per ferie!

In August, Romans get a big holiday, and I don't mean something like Labor Day weekend; they take 3 WEEKS of vacation, and most people leave the confines of the Eternal City for somewhere cooler, like the beach or the mountains. My own landlord went to Reggio Calabria, and said he'll be back at the beginning of September. (Here's hoping the washing machine doesn't blow up.)

However, it is not just the private citizens who head for the hills; all the shop owners go as well, and to my great dismay, this includes the men who own and operate I Suppli, a little hole-in-the-wall tavola calda that makes the best suppli in the entire world. They also make breathtaking pizza bianca. I was in there a few days ago, and they know my face (I am in there often enough that when I walk in behind a herd of little old ladies, I just wave at the guys behind the counter and they shout, 'Oh-o! Suppli! Ciao Alessandra!' This makes me very happy, because I get presto suppli, but I think it really angers the ladies.), and the main man started saying things really quickly to me in Italian. I hate to admit when I don't understand, so I did my typical smile and nod, and say 'si' a few times. The next day, however, I felt like a complete idiot, because there was the Chiuso per Ferie sign pasted onto the boarded up wall of I Suppli. They had been trying to ask me what I would do without them for 3 weeks. I still don't know the answer!

Venice

Dara and I went to Venice for the long weekend, as a little mini-holiday in the middle of the high tourist season. It seems a bit decadent to be taking off 3 days when we could be working, but having gone and returned, I can tell you just how wonderful (and almost necessary) it was. I always think of living in Rome as being on an extended holiday, no matter how long I am here, because Rome to me is a magical place, and regardless of my high level of familiarity, it is different enough from home to feel that way. Still, taking a holiday from Rome was an incredibly relaxing experience!

Firstly, I got to sleep in a bed that was not mine. Now, in fairness, the hotel bed was really hard (which made my own bed feel a million times more comfortable than it already

is when I came home!), but the room was air conditioned, and I actually went and a

te breakfast every day! Our hotel, San Giorgio, was adorable if incredibly rococo, but it was very near San Marco and we had a window that overlooked the canal. The smell of the canals wasn't as bad as I had expected, either; mostly, they smelled like the sea, which was actually quite nice.

Secondly, I went out every day with absolutely zero plans. It was fantastic. I am a notorious plan-lover, but to walk around a city without having a schedule was a rare treat. I still got to see plenty of art and architecture, but on a whim, Dara and I went out to one of the other islands, which ended up being absolutely amazing. It was San Giorgio Maggiore, home to a huge church and the yacht club, and nothing else, and we took off our shoes and went wading on the submerged steps. This is the island:

That's me, from a very great distance. Believe it or not, that is me with a tan.

As it turns out, the church had a bell tower, and we climbed it and were rewarded with incredible views of the whole lagoon. I'll leave you with a sample of those!