Roaming Rome

We’re in Rome now because of this field trip Owen has, and because of Fred’s desire to sketch the Colosseum. Owen took the train with the group from Viterbo. Twenty-three stops, about two hours. Fred and I drove the half hour to Orte and took the express train to Rome and got there in 35 minutes. 

The B&B is on the fifth floor overlooking Piazza Cavour just across the river from TONS of oppressive tourist action. I like it here. Our innkeeper in an Italian American with dual citizenship. She grew up on Long Island and moved here 16 years ago. Two years later she met her husband, an Italian American from NY who moved here 14 years ago. He went to RISD (!) and is a graphic designer with a firm in NY. But he lives here in Rome.

This is one of the best places we’ve stayed. The windows open onto Piazza Cavour, a huge one with a big green with palm trees in the center, and the back of the court house flanking one side. Guards with machine guns protect the court house 24/7. They're friendly, but it's still nervous making to talk to someone holding such a weapon.

Finally, a room with a view for the Lynches.

Piazza Cavour at dusk.

A bird just sat on my cafe table and took a potato chip 
and flew away too fast for me to grab a shot. 

A man just walked by holding a potted basil plant. 

Fred's former RISD student and our friend Karen Sung 
saw my post about this and immediately drew it!

After Owen’s time at the museum we decided to meet halfway, which was conveniently the Pantheon. We got there at exactly the same time. Funny to see your boy walking toward you in the middle of Rome.

The rest of my time was spent doing what I like to do best—not seeing the traditional sights, since this is our eighth trip to Rome and we've covered quite a few—but people watching, and walking up and down side streets, far from the madding crowd.

Here are some Roman men:

And here are some awesome bookstore displays.

Gotta have the 3D glasses!

And more Rome shots.

The Tevere is olive drab, naturally.

Fred & I in Piazza Navona

Free limoncello tasting!

And a human glass of limoncello selling it!

The boy we brought with us, being coaxed by his father to
step into an Irish pub and hear the brogues. So fun.

Omg, selfie self control, people!

We ate in a perfect spot Fred found on Trip Advisor, a few blocks away—L'Arcangelo. Very Roman clientele, except for a silently arguing young American couple next to us. They were STEAMING mad at each other which distracted and depressed me. The waiter brought us an amuse bouche, which was delightful. It was a tomato and bread purée. When we explained the French term to Owen, it got us wondering if the Italians have a different term. They don't. Here's what I found on Wikipedia:

The term is French, literally translated as "mouth amuser." The plural form is amuse-bouche or amuse-bouches. In France, amuse-gueule is the proper term normally employed in conversation and literary writing, while amuse-bouche is a euphemistic hypercorrection that appeared in the 1980s on restaurant menus and is used almost only there. In French, bouche refers to the human mouth, while gueule refers to the mouth or snout of an animal, and is used as a derogatory term for mouth or face.

The aforementioned treat. 

On every table were placed a corresponding number of matchbox cars
to the number of seats at the table. They belong to the owner's son.

My entrée. Baccalà (a fish) topped with grilled red peppers,
atop a purée of some sort. Foggy now on the details, but it was great.
The cheese course was for later but
somehow came at the same time (in the background).

Our 24 hours in Rome was short, but sweet. Owen will return next week with his visiting friend. They hope to rent segways, but Owen will be one day short of his 18th birthday and might not be allowed to rent, not to mention be the guardian for his 17 1/2-year-old friend!  We trained back to Orte, and drove home from there. Dinner in our little Viterbo.

Parade, or More Like Paradini

I'm sitting in a café in Piazza Cavour, Rome, with my laptop and a spritz—a great light refreshing drink. Perfectly named. Fred’s walking back from the Colosseum, which he sketched today. Owen’s in our B&B, having spent the day on the train to Rome, eating lunch (pasta carbonara in 100° weather!), and walking around the National Museum with his class. I’ll write more about Rome, but first, a mention of last night’s annual Procession by our apartment.

Every July 16 there is a parade—Processione Della Madonna del Carmelo a Viterbo—which goes right by the apartment we’re in this year (and have been two other years). This year we had a little cocktail party, but sadly, the procession was about a quarter of the length it usually is. I spent the day doing a logo for my father (the Seacoast Jazz Society), then cleaned the apartment top to bottom. When I finished, I heard the church bells ringing and said, “Owen, what time is it? Four?” It was FIVE. Guests were due to arrive at six. I was unshowered, and we needed cheese, crackers, beer and wine. I showered and ran downstairs to our wine guy and asked him to pour me a 1.5 liter of white from the vat and told him I’d be back in 15 minutes. I then ran to the shop at the end of the street, only to find her closed! Had to go several more blocks to the store that is always open. Got everything I needed and it all turned out fine, but it was too bad the parade was so tiny. My photos from previous years show it in its glory, but here are a few from this year.

Classes got out early so the students could watch. Here they turn the corner onto our street.

Our neighbors taking it in.

Every year someone looks straight up into my camera.

The townspeople follow along at the end.

This smiling townsperson is not a townsperson at all.
It's Maura, Montserrat's visiting artist in Viterbo, on her way to our party.

Our guest looks for his dad on our balcony. 

Kids love Fred. Kids and cats.

Some shots of our youngest guests.

Oops, we're not the youngest guests, but we learned
you can take a selfie with a 35 mm camera!

Morning Walk

This post will be just photos and an occasional caption 

from my morning walk around Viterbo yesterday.

Crazy t-shirt captions.
Others I've seen are: "I'm a fashion dog"
accompanied by a drawing of a dog in a tutu.
And "I've got my shoes. Where's the party?"
accompanied by an image of diamond studded stilettos.

Across the street from our apartment, three pillows hang out the window every morning.
I don't get it. This is another part of town. All over town, linens, rugs, pillows and towels
seem to be at different stages of trying to escape from their apartments.

Check out the woman :)

The graffiti reminds me of the t-shirts.

Design is everywhere.

Opera's in town.

There's this little white bird in a cage hanging out the window, chirping away with other birds.
I wonder if he wonders why he's the only one in a cage.

Tweetie bird stickers were all over this little yellow Fiat 500.

Murlo. Sounds like furlough. Not Merlot.

Owen had another field trip Friday, so Kelly, Fred and I drove up to the Tuscan town of Murlo (12 miles south of Siena) to visit their RISD colleague Nick and his wife, Monica. They’re there for six weeks through RISD—on-site at an archaeological dig, recording the findings with drawings (by Nick). Click here if you’re interested in learning more:  http://www.poggiocivitate.com/2015fieldseason/

Murlo has 25 inhabitants (!), but Nick and Monica live in the bustling metropolis of Vescovado with its other 748 inhabitants.The drive was great, as always, when Kelly’s in the car and Fred’s in charge of the music. We listened to his mix of sit com theme songs from the ‘70s. I’m sure we were the only car in Italy listening to that—in the world, for that matter. We stopped for a few views along the way. Blazing hot, and very dry. Last time I was in Tuscany it was a bit more green.

When we arrived, we panicked that we hadn’t picked a place to meet our hosts, but that’s before we knew Murlo was so tiny. There they were at the entrance to the town—he drawing, she knitting. After a tour of this picturesque little village, we had lunch in a perfect spot overlooking a valley—a very green valley, actually. The menu was adventurous: chick pea pasta, chestnut pasta, stewed wild boar with prune sauce—oh, and an appetizer of bacon wrapped fat. Yup! And wine, of course.

Entrance to Murlo.

Cool promotional posters for an exhibit.

After lunch, we went down to a municipal garage where Nick spends most of his time. It was cool to the dig stuff all over the tables.

Dig findings. 

We then drove to their apartment—walkable, but we had the car— and saw their spacious apartment with its best view out the bathroom window (!) and walked around their town. Also, very charming. It had hotel with a pool in the center of town where we stopped for a spritz. A perfect end to a Tuscan afternoon. Then back on the road to Viterbo.

Silly profs.

Silly statue.