My Ladies

Last night the school had its final gathering together as a whole. From this point forward we will not all be in the same place at the same time before students head back to the states or wherever else they are going once they leave Viterbo. It was a time for laughing and a time for crying. I have had a great group of six young women as my advisees this year. They came to our house, baked cookies, watched movies and generally had a good time. In the course of doing so, they became my friends. I will get the chance to wave most of them off on Friday morning, but realistically that will be incredibly hectic and they will be saying many goodbyes to host families and others in a very short time. I hope I might actually just catch a glimpse of most of them. Having watched the end of many school years and having taught several thousand students, I can say with reasonable certainty that I will never talk to most if any of them ever again. For some reason, that makes me much sadder this year than any of the years that have come before. Perhaps it is the shared experience of breaking away and discovering a foreign country together and in doing that discovering something about ourselves.

So, I am going to break my rule and put up pictures of each of them. They will never see them; none of them even know this blog exists and it basically has to stay that way. Most of you reading this have never met them and never will. This post is then for me, to help me let go of them and at the same time keep them until the digital pictures fade.

Here are my ladies:

Gracie

Jaclyn

Sam

Izzy

Kyra

Libby

Caravaggio

The school has taken its last trip to Rome for the year. It was an informal thing, most of the students had an art history project to do on their own, but they were not escorted by the faculty. Instead, Amy ans I opted to hop the train on our own and spent the day seeking out the hiding places of the paintings of Caravaggio with our friends Sam, Beth and Carolyn. Sam and Beth are our third visitors. I have known Sam for 46 years, although I have literally not seen him for the last 26 of those. We reconnected on Facebook and when I put out a general invitation to visit he confirmed I was serious and then booked his flights. He and Beth are veteran world travelers. On their last trip to Italy they saw lots of Rome as well as many other places, but wanted to visit the Borghese Museum to view the paintings of Caravaggio and the sculptures of Bernini. Amy and I haven’t been to the Borghese in 8 years, so we happily agreed. We saw a pair of his paintings during our recent trip to Malta so we decided to expand our day to visit some of the other sites where Caravaggio paintings are also on display.

So, exactly who is Caravaggio? I can’t even pretend to know much about the man or the significance of his work. I know he courted controversy his entire life. His style of painting was centuries ahead of his contemporaries. At the same time he enjoyed his cups a bit too much and was even run out of Italy (whereby he ended up in Malta) for killing someone. He later got run out of Malta for raising trouble there as well. All I really have to know is that I like his paintings.

We began our day at the Chiesa Santa Maria Dei Popolo in the Piazza del Popolo. We were unable to view the pair of paintings there as there was a service taking place, so we headed south toward the Piazza Novona and the next stop on our excursion at the Chiesa Sant’ Agostino. There we saw the Madonna di Loreto in the Cavalletti Chapel. The lighting wasn’t done all that well, but unlike many churches and museums they did allow non-flash photography.

Next we made our way to the nearby Chiesa San Luigi dei Francesi where we saw a trio of paintings chronicling the life of Saint Matthew. Again, pictures were allowed.

Following an excellent lunch we made our way north to the Villa Borghese and our 3 PM appointment at the Borghese Museum. If you want to follow in our footsteps, be aware that entrance to the museum is limited and reservations are absolutely required. We got our tickets online several weeks in advance and by the time we went  there were no more places available for the entire week. Not only do they not allow photos in the Borghese, they don’t even let cameras in. We saw nearly a dozen works by Caravaggio as well as hundreds of other paintings and sculptures. My favorite Caravaggio in the museum was what is believed to be a self portrait as Bacchus. The painting seemed to leap off the canvas at me. I also greatly enjoyed the Bernini sculptures featured in each of the first floor rooms. My favorite has to be his statue of David.

When we exited the museum we opted to stroll in the sun through the gardens and made our way back to the Flaminio subway station where we began our day. At Beth’s suggestion we took a few moments to return to the Piazza del Popolo and peek in to see if the paintings were open for viewing at Maria dei Popolo. They were and it was an excellent thing we went back. The Crucifixion of Saint Peter in the Cerasi Chapel was easily my favorite of the paintings we saw in the various churches. It is hard to say if it was my favorite overall as the lighting once again left much to be desired and we were roped off far from the painting itself so that close contemplation was not possible.

All in all, it was a most excellent adventure.

Beach Weather

It is spring in Italy and, just as in the Northeast US where we make our stateside home, the weather can be changeable. The temperature can be in the 70’s one day and the 50’s the next. A bright sunny morning can give way to dark clouds and rain in the afternoon. As they said when I was growing up in Maine, if you don’t like the weather, wait a minute.

I suppose I should define beach weather, Italian style. In the Maine of my youth, spring beach weather meant a day in the 50’s where we would head to the shore to climb around on rocks. In spite of having thousands of miles of coastline, Maine has only a few sandy beaches. To be truthful, a couple of them were near enough to our home for me to visit them and trips to Reid and Popham were certainly welcome. But, heading out to John’s Point or Merepoint to splash in the cold, murky water and wade in the mudflats was much more common.

Italians have true beaches. Heading west to the water you will find any number of fine places to dip your toes into the Mediterranean. But, temps in the 70’s are warm enough for only the most hearty of souls or devoted worshipers of the sun to don their bikinis and head to the coast. Early May isn’t off-off season, but it is off season. Things don’t really heat up until August when the Italians pack themselves like sardines onto any stretch of coast to bake themselves into a stupor on a mile of sand with 10,000 of their closest friends. Being a Mainer at heart, the weather has warmed far enough into the 70’s so that I finally ventured to the beach. The experience certainly had its moments. There was a steady light breeze which cooled things nicely and there were enough scantily clad/topless young ladies to provide entertainment for a lecherous old fart like me when the Nigerians hawking beads didn’t. On the other hand, the beaches were already littered with a layer of garbage which will only get worse as the season progresses and I rediscovered that, after all the years spent on the coast of Maine, I really don’t like sand that much. A layer of pasty sand clinging to the obligatory film of SP70 sunblock just isn’t my cup of tea. Give me a cool breeze off the Atlantic and a pile of rocks to climb around on and I am a happy camper.

                                              

Giro d'Italia

Cycling is not a hugely popular sport in the US. Most Americans barely noticed when Greg Lemond won the first of this three Tour de France in 1986. More people took notice when Lance Armstrong began to dominate the event with his seven wins through the early to mid 2000’s. Still, for Americans, it tends to be a “foreign” sport in more ways than one. They have no comprehension that it is a team competition and that riders don’t compete for their country, but rather on an internationally mixed team. It typically isn’t a wide open free for all on any given team. Each member of the team has specific duties and responsibilities. There is a leader whom every rider supports. There may also be a sprint specialist or climbing specialist who is brought forward and supported at appropriate times. However, most members of the team are referred to as domestics; think of worker bees. Their job is to ride in support of the leader and to, hopefully, finish the race. If the leader, or some other member of the team has equipment problems, crashes, or simply has to stop to take a dump (peeing is done while riding), the helpers circle back and assist in bringing the rider back to the pack. Being in the pack, or peloton, is essential as the aerodynamics of riding in a large group provides the efficiency necessary to survive thousands of miles of stage racing. When the pack is going too slowly, or a sprinter needs to be led out towards the end of the stage, it is the helpers who make that happen.

The Tour de France is the world’s premier stage race. But, it is far from the only one. In Europe, one of the biggest tests leading up to the Tour is the Giro d’Italia. It is the Italian version of the Tour de France and has been around almost as long. Interestingly, while it is considered a tune-up in preparation for the Tour, there aren’t that many riders who have won both and even fewer who have won both in the same year. Neither Lemond nor Armstrong EVER won the Giro. The big guns from a team often sit it out to save their legs for next month's Tour, while the team itself competes in order to gain conditioning. Like the Tour, the Giro does not cover the same route from year to year. This year’s edition started in central Italy, worked down toward the south and has since swung back up toward a finish with grueling stages in the northern mountains. Yesterday’s Stage 10 started in Civitaveccia and finished in Assisi going down the Via Cassia directly past the Porta Romana in Viterbo. So, 100 meters from my doorstep, I was able to watch the premier cyclists from around the world fly by at 43-44 km/hr. That’s around 27 mph for those of you who are metrically challenged. On a bicycle. For well over 100 miles yesterday.

The stage was considered moderately hilly, but most of those hills came in the latter part of the stage. By the time they reached Viterbo, 50 km from the start, there was a 5 man break over 3 and a half minutes off the front of the peloton.

The roads were actually entirely cleared of traffic. All the cars you see in any of the pictures are official race vehicles or support vehicles from the 20+ teams competing. Next came the main pack. As is traditional, the leader was near the front in 9^th position within the peloton as can be seen in the picture. Most Americans realize that the leader of the Tour wears the yellow jersey and most, erroneously, conclude it is some relation to the idea of gold. The reality is that the color comes from the color paper that the original newspaper sponsor was printed on. For the Giro, the leader wears the pink jersey (Komen Foundation be damned) which comes from the color of the paper Il Messaggero is still printed on.

The race has been relatively easy so far. Only a few riders have dropped out, mostly due to crashes. Nobody has been dropped as a result of finishing too far behind the pack. That usually only occurs in the high mountain stages. Yesterday was no different as only a single rider was off the back of the pack for some reason. It couldn’t have been a key rider for the team as he was being led back to the peloton by drafting off a team car which is strictly forbidden and risked disqualification which never would have been allowed for a rider important to the team. All told, even with the gap, the entire race went by in less than 5 minutes. A blur of bright colors, a chance to cheer if you happened to spot your favorite rider or team in the flow of bikes and then they were gone as if they had never been there.

Checking online this morning, it appears that the peloton caught the break at some point and any others that occurred so that there was a mass finish at the end. Still, the pink jersey did change hands on the strength of a 20 second time bonus for crossing the line first. I doubt any serious contender is really worried. The real race happens in the mountains where huge chunks of time can be gained or lost.

Le Fontane di Viterbo

After one of my previous posts, my stepmother suggested that I consider blogging about the fountains of Viterbo. I am always happy to entertain suggestions, so here I go. Viterbo is a fortified, walled city. The current walls were first erected in the 11^th and 12th centuries as a means of protection. Walking the perimeter of Viterbo just outside the walls is a stroll of almost 5 km. Fortified walls are no help if they form a cage. For this reason, sources of water were essential to cities and the governing powers created fountains as public works projects. The number, size and design of the fountains were an indication of the power and wealth of the community. Viterbo still has more than a dozen fountains within the walls. Many were built during the 13th century.

I took a walk around the city and took pictures of some of them for you. We begin at the interestingly named Piazza della Morte, the plaza of death. There is a little wine bar we go to occasionally and during the warmer months you can sit at tables in the piazza next to the fountain. Many of the fountains, including this one, feature lions and palm trees. One of these, I think it was the lion, was the original symbol for Viterbo. After they defeated and destroyed their archrival Ferentum, they took their symbol, the palm tree, and incorporated it into their own.

Nearby you find the Piazza Gesu and its fountain. This one is quite a bit more ornate than is typical.

A short walk takes you to the Piazza della Erbe, home to Gelart, one of one of our favorite gelato stores, and this fountain with four magnificent lions.

Next I wandered a bit closer to home. On Via Manzini I came to the Fontana di Crocetta or fountain of the little cross. Note the figurine of a nun on top. This fountain, like the one in Piazza della Morte has a general palm tree shape and four spouts.

Closer to home is the fountain in the Piazza Dante. Both of these last two are rarely visited by sightseers.

Finally, I saved the best for last with the Fontana Grande. It is the largest, most elaborate fountain in Viterbo. We walk past it daily on our way to work.

  

In addition to the true, large fountains, there are also any number of drinking fountains. These are common in every town in Italy. Sometimes they are bubblers, other times they are taps. By law, if the water is not for drinking it must be labeled as such. Beware of nonpotabile. Don’t drink it! If there is no label, you can generally assume it is safe, especially in a place such as Rome. If in doubt, ask someone who appears local like a nearby shop keeper. In San Pellegrino I came across this one, covered with citrus from the flower festival. 



Near the Piazza Dante is this drinking fountain which is no longer running.

Outside, to the right of Porta Romana is another one. Notice the sign above the fountain.

Finally, in addition to drinking water, it was common to provide laundry facilities within the cities. There was a nice laundry area in Tuscania. The one in the picture below is a few meters down the road from our apartment on Via Vetulonia. These public laundry facilities are largely unused as most (all?) Italians now have access to their own machines.



Festa dei Fiori

May 1^st was International Worker’s Day. In the US there were a few protests by the Occupy Movement which were sometimes met with vitriol and ignorance. While May Day might have started as a communist observation, it is now a worldwide celebration of all workers. It is a similar to Labor Day in the US. In Viterbo, we had another day off from school, our second in less than a week. It can get even more fun when Easter falls in the same general time frame as it may due to Easter’s calendar mobility.

In our little neighborhood, all was calm and quiet. None of the shops that we frequent were open. Official offices were closed and transportation rolled on a holiday schedule. Close by, a few hundred meters away in San Pellegrino, the medieval quarter, it was a different story. Each year they host the Festa dei Fiori or Festival of Flowers. The normally drab, gray stone is transformed by a colorful riot of flowers. Technically, the festival runs from April 29 to May 2, but the busiest day is May 1^st. Portions of some of the streets are covered with sod with flowers on display.

Potted fruit trees such as these lemons and oranges are big sellers.

People who didn’t buy fruit trees seemed to converge on roses in all styles and colors.

That wasn’t all that was available. There were ornamental grasses, herbs, and flowers such as these pansies.

Also, there were these columbine/morning glory types in all shades of red and pink.