First Sunday in Rome

I woke up really early today after I had a pleasant rest. The heat is indeed insufferable, but luckily, there is a fan in my room. Got showered, dressed, etc, and having said the Angelus at the usual hour (I was rather surprised and disappointed not to be greeted by a full choir of bells when the hour came, for there are at least 10 churches in the immediate vicinity after all, including our Lady's temple,) and off I went.

I had Rome all to myself! Not a soul was about, and the sunlight was that glorious early morning golden hue, that made everything look warm and better than it already does. My first task for the day, was to find the Frat parish in Rome. I had no intention of taking any sort of public transportation (certainly not the Metro) so I walked. I chose to take the road that runs from the apse of the Basilica of St Mary Major, that was laid out by Pope Julius II and formerly named after his daughter, Felice. It now has all sorts of names, including Julia near its terminus at Santa Trinita dei Monti at the top of the Spanish steps.

Let me explain why I have not taken any pictures. I am enjoying myself too much, and there is simply so much to see that, that it is simply impossible to photograph anything. How can I chose one thing over another? It is all good, so you will just have to come down here and see it all for yourself.

The first interesting building I came across belonged to that fiction commonly referred to as the Italian Sate. There was an inscription in Latin, to the effect that number is what binds all things together, and I have a suspicion this might be some sort of Pythagorean quotation. The building was a statistical office, from what I could tell, and so the inscription was very apt. I went by the Piazza del Viminiale, pretty because of some very tall trees (cypresses?) and came across the first two people I saw that day, carabinieri. I kept walking over to the next block, enjoying all the pretty things to see, when suddenly my heart skipped a beat. I had reached the next intersection and found myself, quite delighted and surprised, at the quatro fontane! I admired the grimy things with a joy impossible for me to describe, and spent some time staring at the facade of San Carlo.

Eventually I kept walking up the street, the Palazzo Barberini was to my right, with a very impressive gate composed of pillars with Telemons. Went by several churches I did not recognise, one had a very curious sculpture above the doorway of two men in manacles, (the chains were real) with an angel pulling on them. Some people were out and about now, but not more than two or three. One advantage in Rome, is that there is no dearth of architectural marvels one can stop and admire (or pretend to admire) whenever one feels the need to stop and let somebody pass by who, for some reason or other, seems to have been following one too closely for too many minutes; I did this twice. Better to be paranoid than sorry, don't you think?

When I made it to the top of the hill where the Church is, and an Egyptian obelisk undergoing restorations, I was confronted with a spectacular view of the city. A building nearby confirmed my first impression, proudly bearing an inscription to the effect that no purer air or better view was found anywhere else in the city. One should always believe inscriptions. There are so many of them in Rome! All over the place, and all in Latin. I get to practice reading in Latin wherever I go; note to my CMS friends: apply for a Latin "study" grant and come read the inscriptions in Rome (and visit me in the process of course.)

I went down the Spanish steps, which are very beautiful even if the azaleas are not in bloom, and walked straight down the via Condotti, past the via del Corso, and straight along the via Borghese. I was dissapointed to eventually reach something marked as the "piazza Borghese" on my map; it should instead be labelled "parking lot." It was an ugly place, made more so by the palazzo Borghese itself, which is in a deplorable state, and the building right across from it, which had been sponge painted coral. I quickened my step.

Soon enough I reached the via Nicosia. After all this walking, even if it was early in the morning, I was beginning to perspire a bit, so I washed my face in the fountain. I then went up the via Leccosa, and found the frat church, San Gregorio dei Muratori, at the end of an alley. Of course, it being too early, the gate was shut, but at least I now knew where it was, and I still had about one hour and forty five minutes to go exploring. I went back to the piazza Nicosia, and then went onto a small covered street with a vault and several floors above it. It led to the Lungotevere.

I have mixed feelings about the Lungotevere, these very picturesque winding roads along the Tiber, with incredible views, especially of the Vatican, and rows of tall trees along it. They were built at the end of the 19th century, and their purpose is to keep the river from flooding the city, but in the process, a great many medieval buildings were torn down, some famous gardens, and even part of outer wall of castel Sant'Angelo.

I stopped to pray across from the Sacro Cuore di Gesu on the opposite bank of the river, one of the few gothic (in this case neo-gothic) churches in Rome. I said some prayers for the holy souls, and asked for their help, especially in finding a place to live. In case you were wondering, opinion is divided as to whether the holy souls in purgatory can intercede on our behalf. St. Thomas Aquinas says no, St Alphonsus says yes. I just ask and let God worry about it and sort it all out.

I crossed the ponte Umberto I, across of which is the Palazzo di Giustitia. It has a unique facade. From there it was a short walk to castel Sant'Angelo, and then up the via della Conciliazione towards the Vatican. Just beside the Candadian embassy to the Holy See, I came across a cafe (closed) that sold some very delicious looking gelatti, and I made a mental note to stop by there later. St. Peter's looked to be very close, but only because it is very big. I decided to give up walking there, especially because it was still closed for the day, and stopped at Santa Maria in Transpontina.

What a lovely church! It had some very interesting yellow marble inside (real?) and a very impressive high altar. Preparations were being made for Mass, so I didn't plan to tarry long. To my right was very Spanish looking altar to our Lady of Mount Carmel, dressed up, and sitting on a golden throne. I thought that to be a great place to say a prayer for my grandmother, whose name was Carmela, and I was pleasantly surprised to note that the altar was dedicated for this very purpose: praying for the dead. There was a very nice prayer in Italian pasted to the kneeler, which I recited, that also asked for the intercession of the holy souls. So it's official: St. Thomas Aquinas is wrong.

Now I had every intention of walking back the same way I came to the frat church, but this being Rome, it proved quite impossible. I went down the ponte degli Angeli, and walked here and there. I went by a church labelled San Salvatore in Lauro on my map, but the facade had a dedicatory inscription to our Lady of Loreto, and a beautiful bas relief under it, depicted our Lady seated upon the Holy House, the Infant Christ on her lap, and angels carrying the whole affair through the clouds. I was ready to say our Lady's litany then and there were it not for the (probably drunk) beggar heading my way. Truth be told, not until I find a place to live am I in a better condition than that man, and no farther from the brink of poverty. I went by the Piazza Navona, the Palazzo Madama, here and there and before I knew it, I was going to be late.

So without managing to run, I hurried back to the frat Church. Mass was as Low as it gets, especially in attendance. I tried to strike up a conversation after Mass with the priest but not much of importance was said.

My next task that day was finding a place to live. Noel had recommended a place not far from the Metro Bologna, but having made my way there, I couldn't find the residence. So I aborted that plan, especially because I had no means of calling the residence for directions. Next on my list, was to go out to the University and get my bearings before classes started on Monday.

I got there after some misadventures on the train. Once at the station nearest the university, (which is in a new suburb to the north of the city) I couldn't figure out what bus to take, nor how to ask somebody about it. I eventually made myself understood (after I had missed two buses) and was dropped of somewhere nowhere near the gates. So I walked for a bit…

Now, the university itself is quite a modern place; you all know my predilection for things not-modern, so it should be no surprise to anyone that I found the buildings as ugly as ugly can get. However, there is some very beautiful landscaping around the place, with tall trees which really do make the place quite agreeable. I was unable to talk to the dean of the faculty but for a few impatient seconds over the reception desk phone. The gist of the conversation was "domani, domani"

I went back home, feeling quite homesick, and wondering what I was doing here in the first place. I had no appetite, and feeling exhausted, I went to bed at 7 p.m.