Communing with the Olympian Dead and Other Activities

Today was the morning that we were to meet the artist Kelly for tea, in addition to which she had suggested that we tour with her the Non-Catholic Cemetery.  I have visited cemeteries before. I have to admit that it was with a certain fixity in my smile that I set out. That shows you what I know.

Porta

So at what seemed like dawn we set out.  I had figured out that we could take the Metro to the Pyramide station. Beyond that other than the description given us by Kelly we were a bit adrift.

The station exits unto the vast object above which turns out to be one of the gates, porta, from the city walls.  (Actually the second set of walls the city having outgrown the original set in what I recall to be early in the Christian era.) The pyramid giving the area its name came from a tomb built a century or two earlier which, from convenience, was incorporated into those walls thus I gather assuring its preservation. It looms a bit in upcoming photos.

Via Marmorate, 13

We were to meet Kelly at "The Tram Bar", a "cafe made from an old tram", at "Via Marmorata, 13" and across from the non-Catholic cemetery. After some debate we found Via Marmorata and after walking a bit looking for trams along the road found number thirteen stenciled beside a large gate, very un-tramlike. We stopped and asked a few people about bars made from trams and were directed to bars. We asked one gentleman about a non-Catholic cemetery and he seemed frankly astounded to hear that there was such a thing. (We had a good time with him.) We popped into a pasticceria for information and got none but did get some excellent pastry.

The Tram Station Cafe

A good place for people watching

Finally I turned on my phone and found an open Internet connection from a nearby hotel.  I got an actual picture of our destination which was across the street from where we were standing. It turns out that it is a bar made not from a tram but from a tram station, their card lists no street number but rather notes that it is on the corner of Via Manlio Gelsomini, and its name is Tram Station not Tram Bar. It is however across the street from the unmarked non-Catholic cemetery whose entrance is down a side street.

The cafe itself was lovely; the outdoor seating charming.  And when Kelly turned up we had a very nice chat.  Finally she suggested that we move on to the cemetery.  I put my fixed grin in place and got up to go.

The entry gate.  Enlarge it and take a closer look.

Keats' grave on the left.

Oscar Wilde's (?) memorial plaque for Keats

The pyramid abuts the cemetery.  This picture and the following shows how much crapola can accumulate over two millennia, around twenty feet I would guess.

Two new friends

Shelly's grave

The "exit side" of the gate

Very very beautiful.

At this point Kelly left us but with a suggestion that we walk further down the side road into the Testaccio district. This is so named because there is a litteral mountain (okay, hill) of "testae" or broken bits of clay amphorae or antique era clay shipping bottles. Although interesting and winding and beaten up downscale hip, it was a bit of a walk.  We went through the market there but when it came time to leave we realized that we were off the edge of our tourist maps.  Nancy wanted to take the safe "walk back the way we came" route; I wanted to take the bus. We took the bus but it was a challenge.

Later, a pizza lunch and we're home in the afternoon.  Let's see what ensues.

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Well, this will be easy.  Like all good stories it begins and ends with gelato.

While Nancy was resting I went out for a gelato (melone).  She later met me in the piazza for a cafe.  At that point she decided she wanted to go to a meeting so I rode the train with her and then waited in a cafe during the meeting.  Afterwards we walked home stopping for dinner and afterwards, you guessed it, gelato (limone for me, melone for her).