Rome, the Eternal Beauty

Twilight from Piazza Bernini
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Just like arriving at Florence at sunset time is a wise arrangement, we arrived at Rome, too, at sunset. This proved to be one of the travel guideline I’m going to follow in the future. At this time, tens of thousands of one-day tourists have already left in their big tour buses; the city is more given back to its real life and one feels closer to the essence and magic of a place in the descending darkness and quietness.

One feels the difference of the two cities immediately. Despite of all its decency and dignity, Florence had long done with its prime and will forever stand at its corner of the history, watching time flies by with a faded and remote smile. Expected to see a larger Florence, I was taken a big surprise, by Rome, which is so surprisingly young and lively, with its green streets, heavy traffic, expensive cars and stylish young men and women.

After Rome, your biggest wish is to come back Rome.

How old is this light? At Pantheom
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Oh yes, here’s another difference between the two cities: in Florence, you feel you’re treated as a guest, in Rome, you feel you’re uninvited. Not only the slick young Romans don’t care to throw a glance at the sporty-dressing, foolish-looking tourists, even the restaurant waiters won’t pay you more attention. Nevertheless, you’re glad that you’re in a big city where there’re other businesses other than tourism and there’re people to watch other than other tourists.

Strolling down along the pleasant Via V. Veneto, we chose a less-expensive looking small restaurant among a string of them, and I hated myself for only knowing spaghetti even from an English menu and I secretly swear no matter what, I’m never going to ask for spaghetti again during my stay here. (What I have to clarify here is that, I have been actually thorough enough to make a copy of “most popular Italian menu” from some tour guide but have unfortunately left it at the hotel. This, together with my limited knowledge with English menu contributed to this misery).

Spanish Steps at night
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After my last spaghetti in Italy, we went on to find Piazza Barberini and one of Bernini’s beautiful fountains: Fontana del Tritone. Took on Via Sistina from here, we soon found ourselves at the world-famous Spanish Steps. Different versions of stories from different tour guides seem to confuse me rather than clarify why Spanish Steps is called “Spanish” and why there’s a French church behind it – as to the Egypt obelisk, it just seems to be one of the popular kind of streets-decoration across the Western World.

Approaching the famous spot first from the side door of the unimpressive French church on the top of the Spanish Steps, we found the “steps” below it spacious, graceful but unexpectedly unpopulated. And we even had the luxury to take a photo with only Marko and me on the steps. However, a few more steps down, we were to meet more steps and hundreds of carousing young tourist suddenly coming out from nowhere.

Only after finishing all the steps, one came to the realization that the Spanish Steps consists of several flights of steps with three balconies to separate but also connect them. Instead of running all the way straight from head to heel, the steps have to run sideway from the two sides of the balconies then come to meet again above another balcony. This intricate design, plus the narrow straight sky-reaching obelisk running through the two lower balconies and the French church behind the first balcony, gives the Spanish Steps a compelling feeling of a stage, a marvelous theatric setting.

But most tourists do not care about the design or the architecture. They’re enjoying themselves and make themselves part of the show on this unparalleled stage. One cannot help thinking that the Spanish Steps was indeed designed for nothing but this, not for memorizing, not for honor or achievement, but for a gathering, a random assembly of different people, a show, or a party. If not for the youth and joys brought about by the un-ending stream of tourists from across the world, the Spanish Steps would not be what it is: a joyous party of life that never ends.

On a retrospect, I found few stories to tell about Rome. Although we have done most of the things we could manage in two days. We had visited the Colosseum in a bright sunny morning and disappointed at its nakedness and smallness, hardly to inspire any feeling as compelling as the computer animation in the “Gladiator”. We had thrown coins at the crowded Fountain Trevi, giving wishes to come back to Rome. We had been to the Piazza Navona, after a really difficult search in a hot afternoon, only to find its most beautiful fountain dry and under restoration. We had also been to the Vatican, hardly had time to admire the St. Peters, but hurried to Chapel Sistina before its closing time to pay 10 Euro in order to watch “The Last Judgment” for 3 minutes (we could have watched it longer if not for so many other admirers there).

Rome is not a collection of all of the above; it’s an overwhelming experience.

If Florence is a dream, a poem of nostalgia, Rome is undoubtedly a love affair. It’s real; it’s so unbelievably real after two thousand years. If Florence lives in its past, Rome is definitely living at this time. It just happen to have the ancient times, the 15^th and 16^th, the 17^th and 18^th, the 19^th and 20^th century here at the same time. The magic of Rome is to rub all of the times together, seamlessly, and to live them all at the same time. One didn’t come here to worship the Colosseum or the Pantheon; one didn’t come here to admire the Renaissance or Baroque palaces and churches; one didn’t come here to learn about Bernini or Boromini through their marvelous piazzas or fountains. Although you may have all this kind of “objectives” before you came, once arrived here, you’re only to be overwhelmed, to be surprised, to hold your breath. It’s the kind of encounter that you could never make yourself prepared for.

The experience of Rome is not to be analyzed or explained. It’s intoxication, an addiction. All you have experienced here only calls out to you: it’s only a beginning, it’s just a beginning, there’s so much more waiting for you. You have to come back here.

After Rome, your biggest wish is to come back Rome.