Roma   Later today we leave Rome after five nights. We've done things a bit differently this time, and I like it. We've always been so much on the go when we've traveled, something for every day, usually long. This time we had that nice afternoon in the hotel lobby in Jersey, and then after finishing what I wanted to do in Napoli, had two relaxing days at the hotel, and now after going about Rome for three days, we had Hertz come pick up the car early and have spent two days in this hotel.

We're not good relaxers. I would not have taken this time out if I hadn't been able to fill the time with both this writing and other correspondence. The Artesia leaves at 19:07 (7:07 PM) today, so I've asked for a late checkout of 4PM from the hotel, and then we'll take a taxi to the station and spend some time in the VIP Lounge. I think I've said I've managed to get the larger room on the train.

As in Napoli, this hotel is the Excelsior. It too is Belle Epoque, from 1906, with the big lounges and bar downstairs. Come to think of it, I think the sleeping car on the Artesia (which is what gets us into the lounge) is also called the Excelsior, so we'll spend nights in three Excelsiors in a row.

They've given us a room here in Rome on the 6th, the top floor. It's very large, and has one strange quirk. They wanted to give us a handicapped bathroom, which is fine. There's a walk-in shower with a built-in seat on the wall, and grab bars everywhere. We've had that before. The only thing is, this room also has a full-size bathroom with separate stall shower and tub, and twin sinks.

One more quirk about this room. It's a corner room, and has separate sets of French doors on each wall. They lead out to the largest terrace I've ever had in a hotel. It's easily 3 meters/9 feet wide to the balustrade and goes down each side maybe 15 meters/45 feet.

There was a play on Broadway some years ago called "6 Rms Riv Vu". The title makes fun of real estate ads that promise a river view, but only if you hang out the window by your toes.

Keeping that in mind, if you lean over the balustrade here, look left, are not bothered by the nest of TV antennas blocking your view of the horizon, through the haze, you can see the dome of Saint Peter's. I suppose you could say we have "2 Bths St Ptr Vu".

The Excelsior is on Via Veneto (VEH neh toe), which is still toney, but is apparently not what it was in the 1950's and 1960's when celebrities came here and it was the setting for "La Dolce Vita". The hotel restaurant is the Doney, which has sidewalk seating but it's too hot for us for that. Apparently Doney is a big Via Veneto name, but I couldn't care less. We had dinner (inside) the first evening, things went so wrong I shouted at the headwaiter and he gave us the pasta course free. We've usually been eating in the hotels and have been satisfied, but that same day I went to my trusty Michelin Red Guide, found a good restaurant in the side street, oddly, looked over the balustrade to check it out, and have gone there the remaining four nights for extremely good food. I call what Doney serves "cucina alla Via Veneto", since they're trying to have a very hoity-toity menu. Girarrostro serves the real "cucina italiana" as far as I'm concerned. Our breakfast buffets, which are included, are in the Doney, though.

Today, and on other days, Bev watches TV while I work, and sometimes I watch with her. We've seen bits of a Judge Judy-type show in a German courtroom, a French program on European canals, and small bits of dubbed-in-Italian "Law and Order", "Murder, She Wrote" and "A Beautiful Mind".

Villa Borghese   We've been to Rome before and have seen everything we wanted to see. This time we just drove around (for 2 1/2 full days) to bring us up to date and for me to locate in my memory where all these places are in relationship to each other, so I can picture them correctly. We of course have the large Michelin map of Rome, and you can't go wrong with it. I do amaze myself that I'm ready to drive into a warren of tiny medieval alleyways, but it always works out.

The new (for us) place we found was the Villa Borghese. I always misunderstood what it was, exactly. Yes there is an actual villa in the park, and it's a major art museum (and a lot more museums are in the park), but the name Villa Borghese actually refers to the entire park, which is large, and the most attractive in Rome. It starts two blocks away, at the end of Via Veneto. From our terrace, we can see some umbrella pines (see below).

We drove through it, and there were fountains, and statues everywhere. There was a nice one to Goethe, and at one point, I was surprised to see one to Gogol', with an inscription below in Russian on one side, and Italian on the other. (This is of particular interest, since that's my ethnic mix.) I could understand the Italian pretty much, and used it to help me with the Russian. Gogol' said he could write about Russia only from a distance, and that distance was "v Rimye", in Rome.

All Roads Lead to Rome, Part 1   The last, but main point I want to make involves two pleasant experiences we've had. Keep in mind that aside from outlying modern neighborhoods, and turn-of-the century ones like where we are, Rome is essentially a medieval city. Primarily because of all the excavations they've done can you see the underlying classical city, but remember, those are only traces of what once was.

Keeping the classical vs medieval image in mind, let me tell you about two experiences.

The trip from Napoli was short, only a few hours. There are a number of roads between the cities. I had decided to avoid the autostrada, and had planned taking a road near the coast, which ended up being four-lane near Rome, which looked interesting. (The road passed near the resort of Anzio, famous for the WW2 allied landing.) There is also a large ring road around Rome which connects all the "roads that lead to Rome".

About 100 kilometers/62 miles before Rome, I must have made a wrong turn. Don't say serendipity doesn't pay off. I was on a very pleasant road, a bit further inland, yet parallel to the road I had planned on. I checked that it was Route 7. The map matter-of-factly identified Route 7 as la Via Appia, the Appian Way. I had dumbed my way onto one of the most famous roads in the world.

It was a perfect charmer. It had largely open areas around it, although some built-up areas came right up to it, including, notably, a car dealership, but was mostly rural. It was almost always as straight as an arrow. It was only two-lane (is that a surprise for a 2000-year old Roman road?), and of course was blacktopped. The most charming thing about it was the rows of trees down both sides, kilometer after kilometer. They always were the same kind, some that I didn't know, others were rows of straight-up-and-down cypresses, and others were miles and miles of umbrella pines.

Umbrella pines are beautiful trees, and very distinctive, but they look as though a child had built them. Picture 60% of the height of the tree as a bare, thick trunk, then another 30% of spreading, thick bare branches. No greenery yet. Finally, the top 10% looks like a thick layer of sod made out of pine needles. It looks like the greenery is just sitting on top of a bunch of supports. It's an odd shape, but gives a very pleasant effect. Now picture even rows on both sides of the road for miles and miles. If you've ever listened to Ottarino Respighi's I Pini di Roma/The Pines of Rome, these must be what he had in mind.

The Via Appia had one more pleasant experience. It went through le Colle Albane, the Alban Hills, which are really much, much closer to Rome than I had imagined, maybe 15-20 minutes, and specifically through Castel Gandolfo, which I hadn't earlier planned on seeing but was glad we did.

The town looks down on Lago Albano/Alban Lake from a great height, with gorgeous views. The lake was full of sailboats, and is very round because it fills a volcanic crater. We followed signs to the Centro Storico (Historic Center = Old Town). Cars weren't allowed onto the main piazza unless you had a handicapped ID, so we were able after all to drive onto the small piazza, filled with cafes, and up to the entrance to the Pope's summer home. There were three Swiss guards in full regalia out front. I was interested to find out that Vatican City has several exclaves in addition to its main area around St Peter's, which include some major churches inside Rome, plus this palace, which has belonged to the papacy since the 16th Century.

The Appian Way seems to temporarily disappear approaching Rome, so later, once we entered Rome, we went over to the beginning of the Appian Way near the Baths of Caracalla. This is the section that has all the catacombs. We drove outward for a short distance.

All Roads Lead to Rome, Part 2   So that was our experience entering Rome via a route dating from Classical times. It enters Rome from about a 5 o'clock position on the map.

Now picture a route exactly on the opposite side, entering Rome from about the 11 o'clock position. The Via Flaminia enters Rome here. From the name, I assume it was from Classical times as well, but that isn't the importance I think is primary.

Now picture Rome as a medieval city. Remember that these were the Papal States, so when you talk of the Popes taking care of municipal construction projects, they were the temporal government here.

From medieval times up to the coming of the railroad, although some locals would arrive from the south and east, most visitors to Rome, pilgrims and regular visitors, northern Italians and from across Europe, obviously would come from the north. They would come down Via Flaminia (again, straight as an arrow) and enter the city walls (still standing) at Piazza del Popolo. Now we had seen this attractive "Square of the People" before. It's beautiful, maybe the best in Rome, but if you don't get its significance you've lost much of the point. The popes had rebuilt this square to the wonder it is (obelisks, fountains, colonnades) as the most magnificent entry to all the people arriving. Across from the entry is the trident, three main streets spreading into the city and diffusing the incoming traffic. Again, they were straight as an arrow. The continuation of Via Flamina is Via del Corso, which goes straight down to Piazza Venezia near the forums. At 30-degree angles on either side go two other streets, one leading to the Piazza di Spagna and the Spanish Steps. These streets are maybe 40 feet wide, wider than the side streets, but relatively small by modern standards.

It is a wonder to picture people coming down Via Flaminia in carriages, on horseback, walking, and entering the city via Piazza del Popolo, and then dispersing. It is incredible to think that such a main entrance to the city was upstaged by the coming of the railroad as a way to enter the city, to say nothing of airports now and ring roads. Goethe must have entered this way, and Keats and Shelley, and all the other famous names from those years. Now, people come to see the Piazza, and probably don't realize why it's there. Via Flamina has a single streetcar track with fences on either side down the middle, with one lane of car traffic on either side, all for local neighborhood use. You can't even enter through the gate now, since the gateway and much of Piazza del Popolo is a pedestrian zone. So I suppose that what was the main entrance to Rome for all those years is now used by no one to enter the city. Sic transit gloria mundi.

Artesia   Into every life--and trip--a little rain must fall. We got a 4PM late checkout from the hotel in Rome and took a taxi to the station. Since Italian TGVs are called Eurostar Italia (like the Eurostar thru the Chunnel), the special lounge was the Eurostar lounge. It was very, very lucky that we were there. It was nothing as nice as the one in Paris. I'm glad we didn't have a long stay there. There were no newspapers, no hostess distributing complimentary coffee, just a hurried businessman's atmosphere. We were watching something on TV when the two women in charge came up to us and told us of the problem.

The night before, on the trip south, a fire had broken out in a regular coach next to the restaurant on the Artesia. I suppose I should be glad we weren't on that trip. No one was hurt as far as I know, but everyone was evacuated from the train and presumably put on other trains. The point is, the Artesia never came as far south as Rome, and wouldn't be able to pick us up for our trip. The officials had arranged for us to be put on a Eurostar Italia train to go to Florence (later extended further still, to Bologna) to make the connection. Well, at least we got to experience an Italian TGV.

In sweltering Bologna they brought us to the air-conditioned stationmaster's office to wait for the connection, coming down from Milan. The stationmaster spoke Italian and a smattering of English. First a woman from Ecuador came in with a problem. You never hear Spanish in Europe outside of Spain, but I went up and helped with an Italian/Spanish exchange. Then a Frenchman came in, so I did Italian/French. I was hoping for a German to come in so I could accomplish a trifecta, but that didn't happen.

The French and Italian railroads are extremely helpful with wheelchairs. They usually have a fork-lift type of device to raise chairs up to the proper level.

When we got on the train, things were terrible. They had left the train out in the blazing sun all day and it was an inferno. The refrigerators weren't running either, so all the restaurant food had been discarded, so it's good I had gotten sandwiches earlier on the TGV. The sleeping car attendant was apologetic, but the champagne was warm. We took it anyway. He didn't even have butter for the breakfast the following morning, so we had a croissant with honey (actually, not bad). Once the train got started, it cooled off, and the trip was fine, but I picked up a claim form in Paris the next morning to get a partial refund.

We met a couple of newlyweds out in the corridor, all drinking warm champagne. They had flown to Italy for their honeymoon, he had had a medical emergency, and was told not to fly back, so arrangements had been made for them to connect by train to the QE2, on our sailing. It was interesting to talk to people who had expected to fly, and were on the QE2 as a second, alternate choice. Would they be bored? Oh, there are elevators on the ship? So it must be big. It was very interesting to get their reaction, and we've also spoken to them on the ship. I think they're quite satisfied.

Transportation versus Travel   I made a point to them that I think is fundamental. There is a distinction between transportation and travel. By flying back, they would just have had transportation, but this way they were getting a travel experience.

Take an elevator from ground level to the 86th floor observation deck of the Empire State Building and you've had transportation, but no travel. Same thing if you fly from Rome to New York. Both are faster than any alternative, but you've had little or no depth as to a travel experience in either. I would say if you fly to a city, go to a business meeting, and fly back, you have had transportation and done business. You have not traveled in the profound meaning of the word. Travel always involves transportation, but not vice versa. Travel is the layer of experience added to the transportation. It is usually, but not always, pleasurable. Travel is the sandwich filling put on top of the transportation white bread.

The travel part can be done on a shoestring, or in luxury, or somewhere in between. All levels can afford experiences of a lifetime. But one should never confuse mere transportation with genuine travel.

QE2   Here's a case in point. I've said we like sitting at a hosted table, and we always ask for the engineer's table. Going eastbound in July we were with, among others, Chief Engineer John Hanvey, who invited us to the engineer's party. This time his alternate number, Chief Engineer Willy Robinson is on board, and was at our table last night. We had a nice chat and catch-up of events. Just now under the door we all got a formal invitation informing us that Chief Engineer Willy Robinson requests the pleasure of our company for cocktails in the Boardroom Saturday before dinner. We also have an invitation tomorrow for cocktails in the Ward Room (the Officers' Club) for Sunday before dinner. Ecco la dolce vita.

Notice how the word "Master" is used: the Master of the QE2 right now is Captain Ian MacNaught, who seems very pleasant. I am not saying I know any of the captains. I don't, other than shaking hands at receptions. However, I do know Peter Russell, have had dinner with him, and have met his wife, Marilyn, on earlier trips. Peter Russell is Staff (Assistant) Captain. Last night at dinner I saw Peter and Marilyn leaving their table and went over to say hello. I mentioned Beverly, and they both rushed over to our table to give her a hug. Beverly does have her own fan club.

A Language Lesson   This part of the story requires an Italian language lesson. You learn a foreign sentence best working from the end. So, say the following out loud:

After we had been abandoned in Rome by the Artesia and had been sent 90 minutes north on the Eurostar Italia to Bologna to make connections, we were helped off the train with the wheelchair, and we were to go and wait for an hour in the stationmaster's office, since that was air-conditioned. To get there, they sent what must have been a luggage cart. It was ground-level, with tiny wheels. It had bright yellow fencing around it and looked like a playpen. It was pulled by a small tractor. The back came down and Bev in her chair was wheeled onboard, with the luggage behind her, and the back was raised. It moved at about half walking pace, and I walked on the right.

The image was the cutest thing. Bev was staring regally forward, and here she sat in her golden coach. I had images in my mind of Queen Elizabeth in the State Coach proceeding down the Mall from Buckingham Palace. These images were no doubt helped by the glass of wine I'd had on the Eurostar Italia.

I said to the driver: Ecco la mia piccola regina! and he laughed as we inched along.

A middle-aged couple was walking along arm-in-arm on the left side, so I said: Ecco la mia piccola regina!

The gentleman looked, smiled, nodded, and said: È vero! (It's true!).

If he said it, it must have been.

Coda   Learning something outside your native language should ideally end up with learning something within your language, so if anyone reading the above said "Oh, that's why the musical instrument is called a piccolo", then mission accomplished. Furthermore, a short piece added to the tail end of a musical selection to give closure is called a coda, which is quite appropriately the Italian word for “tail”. So--this is the tail of my tale.