May 2015 - Go Italia 2015 -See Dantes Inferno and live - only £1200 ! Four gory days in Rome
May began with a trip to Italy, life was so sweet in Tuscany at a centuries old villa in Monterrigioni to see Kate and Paolo get hitched. So good was the do they will be singing songs in Bromley and Beckenham for years .
"Where Paolo goes, we all go."
The only cloud during those blissful Tuscan days was missing the pre-wedding drinks party when a two hour drive from Pisa ended up taking closer to five thanks to the Maps app on the mobile deciding to go down. No sat nav or ancient style paper maps? No worries, all you need if your Sony Xperia refuses to work are some intelligible road signs.Cant be that hard, can it ? Ha ha ha !
Here's how it went - we knew we had to get to Siena to have any hope of finding Monterrigioni - but somehow we'd managed to drive into Firenze instead, which would have been nice to have bypassed. We go round in circles in the dark in the most ugly suburbs of a town I've seen since I was in Milan heading for the airport 5 years ago. Round we go.
We ask a group of kids hanging around a lone petrol station in the deserted streets: "Err, scusi, signorina, er, directione Siena?" "aah" - long discussion with friends ensues. Back to us, it included the following, i think: "Roma sinistra, destra, sinistra, diretto, tuuuuti, tuuuti diretto, aqui, destra...directione Fi Pi Li..."
"Oooh, thanks very much"
Travelling companion JK to me: "what did she say?"
Me: "I haven't the faintest ".
On we go, round we go, another hour passes, the same grotty roundabouts, flats, billboards, the same signs say 'Fi Pi Li' left, then 10m later, Fi Pi Li right.
On and on, I get a feel for Dantes inferno...in my head.
Finally we get out of Firenze.
Day after the big day and our goodbyes all done, we head off to Rome, having worked out this leg of the journey should be a synch - a straighforward breeze direct down the motorway. We decide there is time to take in Siena on the way. We park the car - wander into centre ville.
Blimey, Siena FC were at home and fans were all converging on the ground, like a natural amphitheatre surrounded by hills in this most vertiginous of towns. The whole place is shaped like a volcano, with ancient alleys and shopping streets bending in a permanent arc, every so often a fabulous vista would open up to the left or right. Finally we come across the famous piazza where the town's districts race horses once a year for honour and glory.
Wow factor = 9 / 10
Now, where did we leave the car? Oh FFS factor = 5/10.
Onto the motorway, direction Roma, only it doesn't say Roma on any signs, and OMG - yet again the phone's Map app has mysteriously stopped working, completely. OMG FFS factor = 6/10.
Then the traffic slows right down - two accidents - delays. 4pm. Expectant Airbnb host rings;
"pronto, so you still going to be here at 5pm, si?"
'No, no, I explained to you before, 5pm is when we're dropping off our hire car at Termini (Rome's railway station), so it's going to be more like 6, ok?'
'OK, but you have to get a taxi from the station to get here asap, it'll take you half an hour - 30 euros."
'What d'you mean, why would we spend loads on a taxi? we can get public transport surely?'
'If you do that it will take you at least an hour - and then I'll charge you a late fee, so you better get that taxi',
'Hang on a minute, what late fee?! And you said your flat was central, 'near the Vatican' - now you're saying you're an hour away on public transport?!!'
'Listen - you get late fee ok if you not get here - ciao,' click, constant tone = OMG factor 6/10.
Back in the UK, choosing Rome Termini as the drop off location had seemed a really sensible, time saving location. Two and a half hours later, at 6.30pm, having been through the hell of finding the way first into central Rome and then to the railway station through one of Europe's most mental cities to drive in, JK is nearly in tears and I've been nearer to a road rage incident than in 30 years driving in UK.
I locate the Sixt car hire desk - deserted. Nearby man on another desk;
'scusi, dove, Sixt?'
Shrug, incoherent gesture, = va funculo? .OMG factor 8/10 .
The horror of the next thought takes my mind directly to the gates of Dantes inferno. It dawns on me we are going to have to keep this flaming car another night, park it and keep driving in this madness - with no idea how to find the flat.
We ring our expectant hosts again. JK does the talking. What did he say?
" He said if we don't get there within half an hour, he 's fining us".
"You are joking".
"No, and he shouted at me. He's really angry now." OMG factor = 7/10.
Over an hour later we admit defeat and finally have to resort to being found by a search party sent by the charmless (eg Roman) host and his icy female 'assistant'.
After narrowly being rammed twice, missing two pedestrians by millimeters who just walked out across a six lane road, looking the other way, and having missed seeing many sights , except in my peripheral vision - I handed over the punishment cash and thought the hell was over.
But oh no, not until you are in bed does the inferno die down. We went out for food, and on returning to the flat, I found I couldn't get in. The key looked like it was from the dark ages and no end of wiggling, pulling, pushing, lifting would entice the lock to shift. Oh yes and I'd left my phone inside the flat so we had no way of contacting them. Off we trooped, back to the restaurant where we had just spent 30 euros on pizza.
"Err, prego, can we use telephono ?"
"No"
"Oh but it's an emergency"
"No"
Ho ho, these Romans, they are such a loveable bunch!
JK: "please, the number is in Rome and we really are in emergency"
We show the number is local and get to phone the charming assistant lady.
"Oh, ha ha, yes , the lock is a bit difficult, you just need to...."
Instructions follow, we go back and hurrah, we are in, the day from hell is over, the inferno recedes, at least for day 1, err, or is it?
,
We take a good look round charmless ones place. Nice big terrace, TV works ! And fantastico, theres a kettle ! Turn it on, everything goes dark and stops. OMG factor 9/10. When will the 24 hrs from hell end, not until we are in hour 25, thats for definite. I find the fuse box, i throw every switch, ha, it all works again . Thank you Lord. Shall i risk the kettle, I have been looking forward to this cup of tea with increasingly fevered anticipation as the hours have passed. Try again, yes ! Never did a drink taste so good ! The bed, the pillow, hello bed, goodbye day from hell.
Day 2 starts with numero uno proirity, to return the rental car to drop off at Termini. We renegotiate Rome's roads without death, destruction or a pull by the many different types of cop in Italy. We get to the top of of the designated very hard to find multi story car park, having managed to replenish the petrol at an Italian garage. So complicated and confusing is the system that enterprising migrant men earn a living from tips having explained the process to us drivers.
You must pay first. Into an automated machine that gives no change and only accepts special Italian top up cards and 10 euro notes. Think that's confusing? Wait till you get to the drop off point for the hire car. One notice says "Do not drop your keys into the box below". Underneath is another notice
" Drop your keys in the box below ". FFS factor 8/10.
The man arrives. He inspects the car - a crappy, Air Con less, Sat Nav less, mini grade thing. He notices a dot, like a stone chip on the paint work. He writes copious notes and gets me to sign.
" Everything OK ?"
"Yes, no problem. Go to office now ".
In the 'office' - the desk back at Termini, the man spends for ever on the phone. I am not told why. I am Inglese, clearly equivalent in social status in Rome to a sewer rat. I give up trying to explain the problems we'd had when the man produces a miniscule leaflet, that was nowhere to be seen when I'd arrived at the deserted desk the day before, which has tiny writing and what appears to be a flowchart with mysterious symbols on it.
'See this is multi storey carpark, black white building very easy - no problem, no-one here yesterday?
anyone can follow!!'
After 20 mins, I am told I can go. I am too grateful to be out of there to double check that I won't be charged 250E for a new paint job.
First stop on my tour of the sights, the Colosseum. When JK tells me the steps inside are made for giants I realise I am too tired to even try. Then the Forum, the Capitaline, the Pantheon, Piazza Novarro, the Spanish Steps. There is so much. At the steps I can only lie weakly as my stomach has reacted badly to eating half a tub of Haagen Daas. We make a special effort to see the Trevi Fountain at night. It is under scaffold and glass - no water, just dustbin trucks circling.
JK then walks into a plate glass window at a gelati shop and bangs her nose, very hard. She bursts into tears: "It's all so stressful - I just want to go home!" she cries. My heart goes out to her, it has been stressful, and our financial position is going so far into the red it feels like we will be in debt for years to come, and we dk how much SixT are going to charge for a stone chip and day late return charge. Gulp, dont think about it, FFS enjoy yourself!
Jk bravely insists we must finish the planned squares at night tour and take in Piazza Navona, despite a worrying feeling I voice that we should be finding the bus to get home as there is a tube strike. We pause for a commemorative photo of the throbbing red nose by the famous fountain.
When we find a bus nearby that's going in the Vatican direction and thus ours - we feel blessed. I ask the driver - with a man sitting near him trying to stop me talking - to let us know when to get off. I keep asking - battling the belingerent old bastard who's getting increasingly on my case. All the other passengers stare at us impassively. Some time later we realise it looks like we are heading out of the city and perhaps we had better get off. Stepping down, we pass an incredibly unusual city dweller, one who is genuinely helpful and speaks English.
But you're miles away from where you need to be!" he exclaims "Didn't you ask the bus driver, or any of the passengers ?'
It turns out we are a two hour walk from home - with no chance of any transport, no passing taxis, no help. There is nothing for it but to put our best foot forward. One small advantage - in having to circumnavigate one half of the giant wall surrounding the Vatican, we see how huge it is, No wonder its got its own post office and bank. ~If you think walking around Buckingham Palace is bad, try doing this !
Day 3 - we go to the Vatican museums. So massive are they, it takes an hour to get to the Sistine Chapel.
"Silenzio!" again and again the cry rings out. We are shouted at, cajoled, told to stand up, take off hats, move, don't move, sit, don't sit. All the time you are craning your neck, trying to make out what Michelangelo had in mind, and what am I meant to have in my mind? Not Dante, I am fairly sure. It is incredible. As are the Raffaele (Raphael) rooms. The School of Athens is the easiest part to appreciate, being in front of you, not far off on the ceiling.
Wow factor = 10/10.
It is absolutely unmissable and the highlight of the entire Italian tour. And that includes the Day 4 trip to the legendary Cinecitta studios and its huge outdoor sets. Roman centurions filming a swords and sandals remake of Ben Hur by the Russian director who did Leviathon trooped in front of us. There's also "Christ the Lord" in the making, and Ben Stiller was due to arrive the next day to film Zoolander part 3 on the set Scorsese had burnt down for the climax of Gangs of New York. Hollywood on the Tiber lives on, apparently.
Wow factor = 2/10.
Cinecitta was great and the staff were charming. I can only assume they weren't true Romans, because they universally treat us Brits like the shit on your shoe.
Back in the tube on our way to the airport, as a final last salvo, we were crushed yet again by the ruthless entry gates slamming abruptly shut on us - it felt like the last straw. "What the fuck is wrong with this place?' I screamed at the unconcerned staff sitting in clear sight of us in their control room.
They bashed on the glass and screamed back, 'Davanti, Davanti!!' pointing furiously at another totally incomprehensively sign. Ow factor = 8/10.
I loved Rome, but the Romans are an acquired taste, and I am yet to acquire it !
Note = Fi Pi Li = Firenze Pisa Livorno - tutti directione !
The first ever meeting of the Modern Art lovers group was at Christies and then Sotheby's. These pre-auction previews are always great; you get a warm welcome, free cloakroom and thick book - from Christies at least- with (almost) everything to be sold in the day and evening auctions in the week to come. The fabulous Deux Lectrices by Picasso was my favourite piece on show - estmated at £15m by Sotheby's. The wondrous room of ceramics and mugs, vases and other pottery by Picasso was a pure joy .
