We are starting to crave home cooked food, and Ann is missing cooking. She has lovely soft hands though! We have been choosing more and more healthy food off the menus, not because we think we should, just because that's what we want.
Today was another big day of walking. We started with the Spanish Steps. Apparently this is where artist's models (ahem) used to sit waiting for artists to come along. Artists don't get up very early, so I hope they had cushions. Maybe that's why the ladies in old paintings had big bums? All the skinny ones had got uncomfortable on the stone steps and gone home. I digress.
Next was Bernini's sculpture of the Ecstasy of St Theresa, in one of the churches. The two things to look at here are the way he has captured the folds of her gown, and the expression on her face. St Theresa's expression is not one you normally see in a church, but when you read her description of her vision, you can see that Bernini knew what he was about.
I'd heard of the Trevi fountain, and assumed it was just another fountain in a square, so I was a bit iffy about walking there, even though it was kind of on the way home. It is actually rather cool. First of all it is huge, taking up one side of a big building. Also there is a sort of amphitheatre built around it in a semicircle, so you can just step down from the street and chill for a bit, watching all the water gushing around. Very nice on a hot day.
The legend goes that if you toss a coin in, it guarantees that you will return to Rome one day. Despite Ann's excellent budget-keeping instincts I insisted that we should invest in a coin each, not risking a two-for-one combo deal. I'm not normally superstitious but when in Rome....sorry.
Another church holds three religious paintings by Caravaggio. Caravaggio pioneered a painting technique called "Chiaroscuro" where his subjects are brightly lit from one angle against a dark background, making them very bold and dramatic. That, and the very "low-life" settings he used, made his work extremely controversial in his day. Sadly he had to rework the pictures several times before the church authorities accepted them. Even so, they could not be more different from the other art of the time.
The Calling of St Matthew is my favourite. Matthew was a tax collector. Tax collectors were seen as collaborators with the Roman occupation, were often corrupt and were hated by everyone. Matthew, on the far left, has his head down, counting out the money with his cronies in a dark room. Everyone else is looking shocked. Jesus is almost hidden on the far right of the frame, pointing at Matthew. A shaft of light cuts across the scene from above Jesus' head. The figure next to Jesus is saying "Woah there boss, we don't want someone like that on the team!". For me it has the immediacy of a press photo.
Ann's favourite was the child in The Martyrdom of St Matthew. He is recoiling, horror-struck from the murder about to take place next to him.
The paintings are quite hard to see, for two reasons. One is that they are on three sides of an alcove. The other is that the alcove's lighting is coin operated. When the lights go out there is an awkward moment until someone stumps up a Euro to put in the little slot.
After coffee and a sit down, it was time to see the Pantheon. I'd always thought it was in Greece, but that is the Parthenon. The Pantheon looks basically the same from the front, but that is all. What you have is a complete Roman building, built by the actual Romans nearly two thousand years ago. Inside the entrance you enter a perfectly round space, with a truly enormous dome made of concrete. It is still the world's largest unreinforced concrete dome. The power and simplicity of the architecture overwhelm the senses. None of our photos could do it justice, so here are the wiki images.
After all that excitement it was time to sit down and have some lunch. Anyone who thinks the T-S family is too organised hasn't been to a restaurant with us: "Are we having starters?" "I don't know, are we having puddings?" "I don't know, which starter would you have?" "I don't know, is there something we could share?" "I thought you said you weren't going to have a pudding?" "I thought you said you weren't going to drink" etc. After all that, the waitress brought me the wrong main course, which is karma I guess. Naturally I didn't complain, because I'm English.
In Italy the starters are often bigger than the main course. They fill up on pasta, then have a smaller, posher main course.
Two tiny, elderly Italian ladies were sitting next to us. For lunch they had a bottle of wine and a bottle of San Pellegrino. For dessert they had a glass of limoncello liqueur. No food at all. When they left, we saw that one of them was in a wheelchair, pushed by the other, who had a stick. Classic.
We went back to the hotel room to wash our feet in the bidet, and have a rest, before going back later in the afternoon to try and get into St Peter's cathedral. There was a longish queue, but it moved along quite well. I again got into a barney with a queue jumper but then a nun pushed past us. I couldn't believe my eyes. Ann grabbed my arm. I contented myself with "Oi, it's not the queue for heaven you know, this time you have to wait in line with everyone else!". I think my comment was wasted, because if she was English, she wouldn't have been queue jumping in the first place.
Michaelangelo's sculpture of Mary mourning Jesus is one of the first things you come across. This time there are no angels, no halos, no apostles, no gold leaf. His head has fallen back, obscuring his face, so you focus on her expression and posture. One hand is supporting his shoulder, the other outstretched in disbelief. A heartbroken mother holding her dead son.
Apart from that I can't describe the inside of St Peters. You'll just have to see it for yourself. But it's worth it.
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