Thursday I took a little pilgrimage of sorts to a sacred site just outside of Rome. According to legend, the Santuario di Divino Amore was built on the site where a miracle occurred in 1740. On the site once stood the medieval Castel di Leva. 1n 1740, a man passing by the gatehouse of the castle was set upon by a pack of wild ferocious dogs.
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Six in all, these ancient marble social commentators gave average citizens the opportunity to criticize the government and the pope in a time when freedom of press was a distant dream. Legend has it that a tailor named Pasquino was the first to post a witty comment on the pedestal of an ancient marble statue near Piazza Navona.
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Baboon Street? Can it possibly be? One of the most prestigious streets in Rome, stretching from Piazza di Spagna to Piazza del Popolo, home to Tiffany & Co., named after a large monkey? Well, not exactly. About halfway down Via del Babuino, on the left as you walk to Piazza del Popolo, you will find a simple fountain boasting an odd mossy statue, Il Babuino.
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In Rome, even the traffic cops are elegant (if at times ineffective)...
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At the north side of the gallery rises the little-known Tower of the Winds, one of the highest points in Vatican City. It takes its name from the anemoscope it possesses, an instrument that gauges the direction of the wind, designed by Ignazio Danti, the papal cosmographer. However, despite its name, Pope Gregory XIII commissioned the tower for the sole purpose of determining the extent of the inaccuracy of the Julian Calendar.
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As promised, Wednesdays will be devoted to Roman streets with interesting names, and this week's street is a foot fetishist's dream.Via del Piè di Marmo, or Marble Foot Street, is little more than a alley, an tiny back street that is often not even marked on maps. But there is a rather large and ancient artifact that lives there.
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Called by Romans "L'obitorio" (The Morgue) for its marble tables, Pizzeria ai Marmi, in Trastevere, is probably one of the most authentic Roman pizzerias in the city. The pizza is good, but the supplì are magnificent.
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After spending Saturday in the Sabine Hills, I cannot continue with this blog without a nod to those famous women, without whom Rome would never have survived. Especially since our table wine was called--ever so aptly--Il Ratto delle Sabine.
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After a glorious May Day--a national holiday here--in which my passion and love for this country were at an all time high, Italy has once again caused my naive admiration to come crashing down to a new low. This morning I was enchanted. At five minutes to midnight, I am disillusioned.
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