When in Rome

We are just back from a trip to Rome. We were based in Fiuggi, a medieval town 50 miles southwest of the city that became a spa after Pope Boniface was cured of kidney stones by water from a nearby spring in the 14th century. We drank the waters and walked the steep alleyways and flights of steps up to the old town on a hilltop some 500 feet above our hotel. The alleys were decorated with pot plants, washing hung from balconies and people sat on their doorsteps or leant out of windows talking. One of the alleyways was called Baciodonne, as it was only really wide enough for one person and you would be close enough to kiss someone coming the other way.

Fiuggi Alta was mainly populated by the old. In the cobbled square in front of the Commune you might see a couple of wizened fellas chatting, or a woman going home from the market with shopping but the young seemed to be absent. During siesta time you would see no-one, perhaps only a stray dog. The hilltop art deco Grand Hotel was closed and its ornate pink facade was crumbling.  The lower town was full of hotels where people came to get away from Rome and take the waters.

It was a one and a half hours by bus into Rome on traffic laden roads. Easter was warm and very crowded. On many street corners there were armed police. At all major churches there were army detachments. Scanners and metal detectors had also been erected; it was just like airport security, only the queues were longer.  

Rome is a visually spectacular city. The ancient Romans established the massive scale of the buildings and subsequent generations have sought to outdo them. Walking from the Colosseum through the Forum you come to the enormous and ugly white marble palace that honours Vittorio Emmanuel the first king of unified Italy. St Peter’s Basilica atop the huge steps above the vast square that runs down to the Tiber affects a similar grandiosity.

My favourite building is the Pantheon, a domed Roman temple that was later adopted as a church virtually unchanged. There is a large hole in the centre of the dome that shafts of light come through to illuminate the statues of gods (now saints) that were placed in niches around the base of the dome. Rain also comes through the hole in the dome but there is neat ancient drainage, water accumulates and drains through slots that are disguised in the pattern of the floor.

My favourite visit was to the Capuchin crypt where the bones of 4000 deceased friars were arranged in designs that covered the walls and ceilings of a series of rooms. The recurring motifs for the arrangements of bones were flowers and stars. You went from a room full of skulls, to one full of pelvises and then to another full of leg bones. It is a striking and sobering experience; the message is that life is short and death is ever present – something I am only too well aware of.  

My last visit to Rome had been over 30 years ago. It now seemed so much more crowded, with huge groups of tourists being led by flag waving guides around all the attractions. As Rome is built in a river basin and surrounded by hills, the air quality is terrible; my asthma really troubled me. At the end of each busy day in the city I found myself longing for the relative peace and calm of Fiuggi.