"The charm, as always in Italy, is in the tone and the air and the happy hazard of things"
- Henry James, Italian Hours (1900)
We didn't bother getting off the #64 bus this morning. It was raining and we had good seats. We sailed right past our intended destination and got off at the Vatican instead.
It must be the "pagan" in both us. We looked at one another, barely exchanged a word and made a quick retreat out of that square. I'm not convinced there is anything very spiritual going on in the Vatican at all!
We then walked towards the Tiber with St. Peter's behind us turning every so often to get a glimpse. Our original destination, the Castel Sant' Angelo, looms up before us. It sits majestically on the banks of the Tiber and is in fact not a palace but Diocletian's Mausoleum. The huge, rotund edifice was given a Catholic, rococo make over and become a Papal possession several hundred years ago.
I always recall it from the long, silent, closing scene of Fellini's "Roma" in which the motorcyclists roar around Rome by night passing the city's key buildings and monuments.
We cross the Ponte Sant Angelo straddling the Tiber. we are now officially back in Rome. It's beginning to rain. We take shelter in a tiny cafe with a group of traffic cops - the most hated species of worker in Italy. The waiter takes pity on us and lets us drink our cuppucino seated for the same price as standing up at the bar.
Before long we are in Piazza Novona admiring the Fontana dei Fiume. Now we are searching for the real spiritual heart of the city (if it has one?) and take a few wrong turns.
"Signora, una indicazzione, per favore?" My mantra!
We are quickly steered back on the right track.
We turn out of a grimy, cobble stoned lane and then there it is in front of us in its ancient glory:
M·AGRIPPA·L·F·COS·TERTIUM·FECIT
"Marcus Agrippa, son of Lucius, made this building when consul for the third time"
We enter the building.
Again, like Diocletian's mausoleum, the Christian overlay grates. The building even has a ludicrous other name, "the Church of St. Mary and the Martyrs". The tacky ecclesiastical trimmings seem ridiculous and totally out of place.
Look up at the vaulted dome and you immediately know this is a "Pantheon" - a place of "All Gods".
The oculus opens to the sky at the centre of the dome and is as perfect a symbol of Other-worldliness as anyone ever imagined. The sight of it really does inspire awe. The rain is streaking down and hitting the marble floor. It drains away through barely visible cracks installed most likely by Emperor Hadrian in the first century AD.
Our little journey continues along Via Largo de Argentina to the ruins of the Theatre of Pompii where Julius Cesar was knifed in the back. For us it is more affectionately associated with its present day occupants - hundreds of stray and abandonned cats. There is a cat shelter here run by volunteers. The shelter desexes and immunises the felines though the volunteers are hard pressed to keep up with demand - Romans keep dumping yesterday's kittens on them.
Whether it is because the pussies are no longer as cute as they once were, spray or make a mess in the city's shoebox sized apartments or just don't go with this year's Prada handbag is anyone's guess.
...to be continued
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