Sunday, October 1, 2017

Epilog

Transferring the Epilog from the previous page to here with additional details

Paul's face after he added up how much money he spent



As noted previously I was unable to generate a boarding pass for myself to get on the flight out of Rome; Nancy's generated and downloaded perfectly (in three different formats as I tried to get mine to work). Ultimately on a call to Lufthansa someone said to try a kiosk at the airport. Well, rather than that I decided, since we were at the airport, to simply deal with a person; the saga continues.



The previous report:
No problems at Fiumicino, Aeroporti di Roma. We were directed to the First Class desk, presumably based upon our character, certainly not our tickets, where we both were issued boarding passes, still in the anciently familiar "IBM card" card stock. That made my first and Nancy her third copy. So, some hours early but with free WiFi, we're awaiting our flight to Frankfurt DE.


In planning this trip I had allowed for one and one half hours to change planes in Frankfurt which seemed generous. Then I received an email from Lufthansa saying to allow for additional time for flights entering the U.S. to clear additional security. (They could have mentioned this before I was booking. I did however book through a third-party service; I'll transfer the blame to them.) At any rate an hour and a half still seemed, if not generous, adequate.

I have now flown in Italy quite a few times both domestically (within Italy) and internationally and I have never, repeat "never", had a flight leave on time. Once in Milan my Alitalia flight didn't start boarding until an hour after the scheduled departure and then we sat on the runway for two and a half hours.

This trip wasn't that bad. What was initially announced as a twenty minute delay ended up stretching into an hour; that hour and a half now seemed pitifully inadequate. However on the way to Frankfurt the pilot announced that by a combination of increased speed and shortcuts granted we had made up about thirty minutes; okay, now one hour to change planes.

The truly terrible Lufthansa customer service at the gate informed us that we would need to go to Terminal Z. "Not far." It was. And all U.S. bound planes were directed through the same security funnel. However as we had rushed down there we still had what seemed to me to be plenty of time.

Until I was selected for a random enhanced security check. Nancy and I were separated. Oddly all this U.S. security was being handled by Italians and either through language barriers or the indifference resulting from doing this dozens of times every day the official in charge was not a great communicator. Once he had a group of us we were shuffled past the long line snaking to security (this was looking better) and in twos and threes had our computers and shoes swiped for explosives.

The upshot here was that when I checked in at the gate and asked if Mrs. Matthews had checked in I was informed "she's right behind you." I can only guess that the reason they would know this is that Nancy was absolutely the last person not checked-in on the flight manifest. She reports that once she got past the long snaking line she had to pass through rooms, upstairs and downstairs, all without signs. But she got there. And what seemed like an endless series of downstairs, turn a corner, down a passage, more stairs, led us to a bus that took us to the plane with, as it turned out, twenty minutes before the scheduled take-off. How much longer the bus would have waited on Nancy and me and whether there would have been another bus is unknown.

So, an uneventful if long (fourteen hours?) flight of dozing, movies, and an endless succession of drinks, treats, and meals and we were in  Tampa and I was dreading Customs. I once had to clear U.S. Customs in Toronto and it was a tortuous process of standing in line, talking to an official, standing in another line, etc. Here our bags were unloaded on a Baggage Claim just for us as we got off the plane, a brief line then a electronic customs card, hand the resulting ticket to an official and we were done; not more than five minutes.

Delightful Shirley and Camille were waiting for us and whisked us back to Bradenton where, other than piles of debris from the hurricane clean-up, all was pretty much as we left it.







Friday, September 29, 2017

S.P.Q.R.

Some People Quit Rome



Actually S.P.Q.R. stands for Senatus PopulusQue Romanorum, the Senate and People of Rome, Rome's motto since antiquity and one whose abbreviation is everywhere like this utility hole cover.

That having been said, we are (hopefully) quitting Rome and other than perhaps a flight wrap-up thus endeth the blog.

Note that I said "hopefully". This morning, being in the electronic age, I got the email from Lufthansa saying that we were ready for electronic check-in. So, we checked in. Then we downloaded Nancy's boarding pass. And I spent the next four hours attempting to generate my boarding pass. This includes the better than an hour being left on telephone hold only to be answered and subsequently either hung up on or transferred back to the beginning by people in the Philippines or India. I finally got someone who didn't hang up on me but who said that if I didn't get one I ain't getting one and to try a kiosk at the airport.

So tomorrow morning I'm getting up at 5am to be at the airport four hours early. I'm not quite sure what will happen after that.



After that at some point I wandered for a bit saying goodbye to a city that in all likelihood I will never see again which is a shame because there are many ways in which I love it and in which it is my favorite city.



So Nancy goes to a meeting and I join her halfway through. We then walk back down the hill into Monti and decide to go to one of our favorite restaurants.



The bus boy sees us and just beams. I'm not used to this kind of treatment. A waitress, not our waitress but one we had had, what? a week ago?, comes over and all but throws herself into Nancy's arms. Said waitress, our waitress, and another waitress and the bus boy all have to have their pictures taken with us. And, check this out, the owner gives us a set of demitasse cups from the restaurant. As I said, I'm not used to this kind of treatment.

The WiFi in the apartment has grown so feeble as to be unusable so we stopped into a cafe on the piazza to use theirs. Wherein the cashier comes over and all but throws herself into Nancy's arms. I am so not used to this kind of treatment.

Finis

Thursday, September 28, 2017

Back in the Saddle, Campidoglio, & a Micromosaicist

Well, the sun is beginning to set on this vacation thing. We had never intended it to be one of those "gotta see the sights" things but there were things I wanted to do.







Principal among these was to visit the Campidoglio, the site of the Capitoline Museums, one of Romes' principal of the genre. This occupies a hill that kind of terminates the forums and thus is a short walk from the apartment. What I didn't know is that, from my angle coming up behind the Vittorio Emmanuele II monument, there was a road leading to a bluff pretty much in the middle of the forums; beautiful views.

The well known entry to the museums including the replacement statue of Marcus Aurelius. 




The first building includes quite a bit of monumental statuary including the real statue of Marcus Aurelius, protected from the elements.


A St. Bartholomew. I always include St. Bartholomews when available for my friends at St. Bart's in Atlanta.


This building also included a large section of paintings, most masterworks.









The second building across the piazza, reached by underground passage, continued the classical statuary theme, added some renaissance era works, and offered a "top floor" view of the forums (again, I know).


And we bid a fond farewell to the Campidoglio.

While I had plenty of time for this I did keep my eye on my watch as Nancy and I had an appointment with a micromosaicist to whom Kelly had facilitated an introduction.








Megan Mahan is her name. We took the Metro to a station on the periphery of Rome and Megan picked us up there and took us far outside the perimeter highway to her studio. Like many artists she's deeply into the work and not socializing; we were the first persons that she had invited to her studio, a testament to the quality of Nancy's work. Anyhow the studio was amazing, the work was amazing, and her demo of some techniques was also amazing; a great hour or two.

Megan took us back to the Metro and we experienced the increasing crush that can mean.

Back to Monti for a cafe and home again.

Wednesday, September 27, 2017

Another Recovery Day, So Sue Me

A slow start to a slow day.





Another lazy start to the day. We had planned to go to a meeting shortly after noon so we didn't want to crowd the morning. Instead we took the Metro up the hill and, to begin with, walked around the church of Santa Maria degli Angeli e del Matri that we had missed earlier. Turns out that it was my fault; I had missed the entrance. Anyhow this is the church built on the remains of the Baths of Diocletian. Other than that fact and its massive size it doesn't have a tremendous amount to offer. There is an interesting astronomical inlay in the floor by which a dot of light traverses some beautiful work indicating the current astrological sign.

As noted earlier this is the mass that has been at the head of Via Republica as we walked up the hill to meetings.



Many of the meetings are held at St. Paul's Within the Walls, shown above. We were quite early so we walked up and down Via Republica doing some shopping, cafe drinking, gelato eating, etc. before popping into the meeting. Said meeting was again quite small but all was well.

We had then planned to walk over to a restaurant I had eaten at frequently on a former trip but halfway there, as we were passing the entrance to the Termini Metro, decided to just bag it and head for home where we had lunch.



During the course of the late afternoon Nancy announced that she was going for a walk. She came back festooned with new scarves and perfumes. A treat for us both.



A fine dinner at one of our favorite restaurants, one which overlooks one of the forums. Interestingly this bit of forum still had some rooms in use. I peeked up and there was a pretty polished looking environment with business types going back and forth. I have no idea what's going on there. At a lower level there was a sign for another bit saying what I gathered to be 'masses in the chapel will resume in October' or something like that. Anyhow, a good dinner, after which we wandered a bit and to another place for dolci, and to home.

Tuesday, September 26, 2017

A Recovery Day

After all the hectic coming and going we needed a recovery day.



We slept in mightily then, as Nancy went to nail down a table at one of our favorite places in the piazza, I went to drop off my laundry, the view from which is above; better than from your launderette I bet. I then went back up the street to the piazza to meet Nancy only to find the restaurant closed and Nancy nowhere to be seen. It turns out that the restaurant was being used as a film set which is interesting and all but where's Nancy? While I was doing the "two steps right and peer, two steps left and peer" routine I was tapped on the shoulder by one of the English-free waitresses and led down the side of the outside seating to where Nancy was to be found. They had preserved this vestige of the restaurant and were serving through the window.

So we did that for a bit then I left Nancy there and went to get an overdue haircut. Italian barbers are the best. Period. No "buzzers" for them, entirely scissors and razor. Expensive but it included a (after the haircut, hmmm) shampoo (leaving my head wet for the razor), and eyebrow trim, a mustache trim, and (I'm getting to that age) an ear trim.

And back to the piazza where we had another cafe, paid up, and went for a gelato.


From there we strolled up and found a street with interesting shops. There was a guy that does intarsia in stone (like marquetry or a form of mosaic), textiles, and an interesting high quality junk shop where Nancy spotted the Ganesha above. She has a special devotion to Ganesha as, in some obscure sense, do I and it was still birthday season so I got it for her. The whole thing is about ten inches high.

And then a stroll back through the streets of "upper" Monti and, not surprisingly, another cafe. Then, after this exhausting regimen, it was time for a siesta.


Dinner out at a new place, near the Ganesha store. Quite good on the whole. And home.

Monday, September 25, 2017

Panicale to Rome

Not much to record on a travel day.


We awoke and breakfasted with Elida. We found the toilet clogged which added a certain amount of excitement. So plunging and packing occupied a good amount of the morning. Guenter arrived from a walk in time to say goodbye. Rather than immediately hit the road we ran up to Panicale for a goodbye cafe.

As we were leaving this flyspeck of a town we ended up taking some unexpectedly flyspeck roads to get to the A1 autostrada, to the point of "that cow track can't possibly be the road" despite the clear indication of the GPS, but it was. Anyway we got to the A1 without too much trouble. We had a remarkably good lunch at a roadside gas station cum restaurant.

The GPS did not steer us wrong and with Nancy adjusting the display, keeping the blue dot visible, and my keeping the blue dot on the blue line we did just fine getting well into Rome where we entered a miles long tunnel where GPS could not operate. Less a tunnel, I think it was the lower level of a multi-level road system as there were frequent exits, but which exit would be ours? We finally emerged well south of our destination but, again, with cooperative GPS operation we managed to get to the rental car drop-off without too many wrong turns.

And so back to Monti for a cafe and rest in the apartment after which dinner in one of our favorite restaurants on the piazza.



After dinner I went for a long walk, taking the Metro to Barberini then walking back past the Triton and Trevi Fountains. Somewhere after this I passed a group of lost Dutch tourists who only wanted to get to a Metro (I've known this feeling) in this Metro-less area of Rome. I had them follow me back and I got them safely to the Cavour station.

Sunday, September 24, 2017

This Side of Paradise, An Opera

By coincidence I've started reading This Side of Paradise by F. Scott Fitzgerald (will I ever be known as P. Downing Gillen?) which seems pretty appropriate given where I woke up this morning.








As noted yesterday we've arrived at Elida and Guenter's home in Umbria; in Panicale specifically just to the west of Perugia. Although I can't imagine the amount of work it took to create it, much less maintain it, it is absolutely gorgeous, the perfect farm home. They raise olives for oil for sale and a variety of things for home consumption. I wandered on my own while Nancy and Elida took the long loop walk around the property and Guenter slaved away getting ready for the olive picking.

After which Nancy and I went into Panicale.







It would be difficult to overstate just how charming this flyspeck of a village is, on a hilltop overlooking Lago (Lake) Trasimeno. We stopped for coffee at Signor Gallo's cafe (none other per Elida) then strolled though the village stopping to buy cheese and fruit (clementines, pears, and pecorino), and then another coffee. What an utterly lovely spot.

And back down the hill to the farm to consume the comestibles acquired above and to discuss, well, everything. Then naps for many, but typing for me. We're off to the opera then dinner with friends so I probably wouldn't have had time to type this far tonight.

Ciao for now.



So, the opera.





Panicale has a tiny municipal opera house tucked away on a cobble stone street. There is seating for maybe a hundred on the floor and two tiers of boxes. We were offered "L'Occasione Fa Il Ladro" by Rossini, one of those swapped/mistaken identity things; fairly short, maybe two hours including intermission. The singing ranged from good to excellent and we and our fellow guests enjoyed ourselves immensely.


A small group of us then returned to Elida and Guenter's house for a great lasagna dinner. Great dinner, great conversation, a great time.