by Shea’s Mom & Dad
We were honored when Shea asked us to write this ‘guest blog.’ We couldn’t duplicate Shea’s inspiring writing, so we wrote this primarily to remember our trip (thus the long length and excessive detail).
We arrived safely in Rome (the flight was a story I’m not allowed to tell). Shea met us in our hotel near Piazza del Popolo, and we ventured out with our private tour guide. Her knowledge of the Italian language and art history were only surpassed by her extensive knowledge of Italian food and wine. The long walk to the Spanish Steps and the Trevi fountain (MUCH larger in life than pictures can capture) was exactly what the Doctor ordered for our jet lag. We wandered from the Trevi into the highlight of Dad’s trip: the Pantheon. We saw so many wonderful things, but the ancient perfection of the Pantheon was striking. The interior view of the spherical dome, built before Christ, and its layered-square patterns made us think that architecture hasn’t improved much since then. We wondered how many people have visited the Pantheon over the last couple thousand years. We continued our walk to Piazza Navona, and back up along the Tiber. After a nice dinner at a table on the street, we walked back to our hotel for a well-deserved sleep.
Our second day was a lesson in planning and managing our blood-sugar levels. We took the metro to Circus Maximus, and walked entirely around the Circus and Palentine Hill (because the entrance to the Forum was almost exactly opposite of the Metro stop that Dad chose). Fortunately it was sunny and only about 100 degrees (if you subtract 32 degrees and divide by 1.8, that’s approximately 1000 Celsius), and Mom only infrequently reminded Dad of how stupid his mistake was. We found ourselves at Piazza del Campidoglio, designed by Michelangelo, and the Capitoline museums. The bronze statue of Marcus Aurelius was amazingly realistic, and only survived the church’s purge because people thought it was a statue of Constantine (making us think that the quality of fundamentalist Christian education hasn’t changed much). We had a great view of the Roman Forum and the Arch of Severus Snape. Walking around the Forum, Dad was absolutely pissed to see that Mussolini built a major road, Dei Fori Imperiali, right over the Forum, and Shea was quick to point out that the road was not even in his Top 10 Atrocities list. We walked around the Colosseum and took a break at the Arch of Constantine. The next stop in our plan was ‘St. Pietro in Vincoli’ (St. Peter in chains), which should be named ‘St. Pietro nel Mezzo di in Nessun Posto’ (St. Peter in the middle of nowhere). We tried to reach it through the Domus Aurea ruins, which would have been a lovely walk if we weren’t overheated and unrested. When we finally found the middle of nowhere, the church had just closed for the early afternoon. This was when the ‘ugly Americans’ made their appearance. We showed the locals that they don’t have the market cornered on quick tempers and fits of rage. Shea was finally able to stop us from yelling at each other and convinced us that we needed to stop at a café for lunch. Within minutes, our moods lifted and we enjoyed a long lunch. By the time we were done, St. Peter in Chains was open again, and we saw Michelangelo’s Moses and the altar with the chains of St. Peter. With our new appreciation of high blood-sugar levels, we stopped for gelato (and did so every 10 minutes for the rest of the week). This helped, because when we finally reached the entrance to the Forum and found that it was closing, we just accepted the fact that we made a mistake, and would have to return some day with Luke. It’s amazing how European culture can transform uptight Americans into people who really don’t give a shit. We continued on to Piazza Venezia with the Trajan Column, walked up the Emanuele monument for another good view of the Forum. We walked across the tiny medieval island (Isola Tiberina) to Trastevere. We went into Santa Maria in Trastevere and had another beautiful dinner on a small piazza. We took a tram back over the Tiber, and walked from the Area Sacra (Roman ruins) back to the hotel.
The next day we visited the Vatican. We went through most of the Vatican museums in the morning, including Egyptian and Etruscan museums, the hundreds of statues in the Chiaramonti and Pio-Clementine Museums. The Greek statue of Ajax, which only has its torso remaining, was significant, because Michelangelo kind of had a statue-crush on it (even though he thought it was Hercules) and modeled many of his male torsos after it. We probably spent too much time looking at the sculptures, because the Gallery of Tapestries and the Gallery of Map were mobbed. By the time we got to the Raphael Rooms, we could only squeeze our way through, and we didn’t recognize that we passed by the School of Athens (we’ll also have to see that on our next visit). We spent almost an hour in the Sistine Chapel, and we probably could have spent another hour there. Its small size didn’t detract from the impact of Michelangelo’s ceiling and the Last Judgment. Between the statues and the paintings, we must have seen a thousand penises that day (about 300 in the Sistine Chapel alone) – not to mention many manly women (Renaissance Rome and Florence must have had kick-ass field hockey teams). We went into St. Peter’s Basilica, which was more immense than can be described. Michelangelo’s Pieta and Bernini’s altar (with bronze stripped from the Pantheon) were just a couple of the highlights. We exited into Piazza de St. Pietro. We had cappuccini on a street café near the Vatican, went back to the hotel for our bags, took a Metro to the Termini, and got a fast train for Florence. We had an excellent Florentine dinner and stayed in Shea’s apartment.
We started our first day in Florence with a trip to the market. Mom was in heaven to see all of the fresh produce, dried fruits, mushrooms, cheese, meats, and fish. We supplied ourselves for a nice lunch at Shea’s apartment of salami, cheese, bread, olives and figs. We went into the Duomo. The interior is disappointing compared to the exterior, but the mosaics in the Baptistry are amazing. Shea explained the significance of the Baptistry doors. The differences between the original doors and Gilberti’s 2nd set of doors are subtle, but capture the beginning of the Renaissance, with more realistic, human poses and perspectives. The 3rd set of doors, also by Gilberti, are called the doors of Paradise, because Michelangelo said that if he could take anything to heaven with him it would be Gilberti’s doors (he also chose ‘War and Peace’ and ‘Dark Side of the Moon’ as his favorite book and album that he’d take). With Shea’s apartment overlooking the Baptistry, we took a moment each time we passed the doors to enjoy them. We went to the Gallaria dell’Accademia to see Michelangelo’s David. David is worth the hype (exaggeratedly large head and hands, but only modest manlihood). The Gallery is small but adds to the David experience. Michelangelo’s four slaves and St. Matthew were left as works in progress, and they show Michelangelo’s approach to sculpture and his genius. Mere mortals will sketch the image in two dimensions on each side of the marble block, and carve off large chunks so the block takes the rough dimensions of the statue; but Michelangelo just started sculpting from front to back, letting the form emerge from the marble. St. Matthew and the four slaves are crawling out of their blocks in various stages of emersion. The contrast to Michelangelo’s approach is apparent when you see the large gallery of plaster casts with wire frames that other sculptors used to ‘see’ the form before sculpting. We went to Santa Croce and saw the tombs of Michelangelo, Machiavelli and Galileo and a chapel by Brunelleschi. We were shocked to see how rundown the frescos were, but then saw pictures of the flood and how much damage was done to the church in the museum. Ciambue’s crucifix in the museum is also an early milestone of the Renaissance, being an orthodox crucifix, with a more human Christ that is less iconic. We wandered back through Piazza della Signoria, Dad’s favorite place in Florence, with the tower of the Palazzo Vecchio, the Neptune fountain, copies of Michelangelo’s David, Hercules, an open area with Roman and Renaissance statues (Perseus, Hercules and the centaur, Rape of the Sabine women, …), street performers outside the Uffizi, with statues of prominent Florentines (da Vinci, Michelangelo, Donatello, Dante, Galileo, Machiavelli, Boccaccio, Vespucci). It’s incredible how many revolutionary people came from this small city under the patronage of the Medici’s during the Renaissance (an example of how tolerance and investment in education, arts & sciences can elevate an oppressed society to greatness). We had a small dinner (a rare occasion on this vacation) at a Pizzeria. We probably had a little too much wine, because we alternated between high-volume giggling and yelling. At one point Shea loudly scolded Dad for his views on modern art (something like ‘not appreciating modern art is similar to not believing in evolution’). However, after another round of gelato on the walk back to Shea’s apartment, we agreed that she’d begin showing Dad the significance of modern art, starting with the Renaissance.
The next day we started out over the Ponte Vecchio to the Palazzo Pitti and the Boboli gardens. It was a nice walk to the top of the hill to get a view of the city on one side and the Tuscan hills on the other. Then, we left Florence in a rental car and set out for the Chianti region. Renting a car in Italy had disaster written all over it, but it worked out well. We got a nice little Fiat 5-speed, and the driving was fun… for Dad. We headed out toward Greve, and made a turn to see Montefieoralle, a small, medieval walled village on the top of a high hill. The road was narrow and twisting (it was essentially a paved goat path near the top). Mom didn’t see much, because her eyes were shut tight. We continued through Chianti and stopped for cappuccini at Castellina, another hill-top fortified town. Our next stop was San Gimignano (pronounced San Jimin…. you know?), a walled city with many high towers that is frozen in Medieval times. Although most of these walled cities had towers, built by prominent families, most of them were destroyed as the power of their builders diminished and the Church demanded that no tower be higher than its cathedral’s duomo. San Gimignano was once a powerful city, on the pilgrimage route to Rome, but when the route changed to include Assisi (the new hot pilgrim destination), it became a ghost town (scene on the road to Assisi: fat, gay monk on a donkey- ‘Oh, nobody goes to there any more!’ dirty peasant- ‘where?’ monk- ‘San Jimin…. you know!’). We drove to our hotel in Sienna, and our perfect week of weather changed. It was lightly drizzling when we set out from our hotel outside the walls, but the rain got heavier as we made our way into Sienna. The silver lining is that we ducked into a great restaurant for one of the best meals of our trip.
In the morning, we set out in our little Fiat for a winery tour at Castello di Brolio. The drive was pretty and enjoyable, until we realized that we were lost. We had a reservation for the winery tour, so after we figured out where we were, Dad raced through the twisty, narrow roads (ignoring the protests of Shea and Mom) to get to the winery. We were late, and missed the grape pressing portion of the tour, but saw the large warehouse of casks, bottling and wine tasting. Arden and Shea suggested that we walk up to the castle, which was just a ploy to sober Dad up before we got back into the Fiat. The castle had a beautiful view of the surrounding hills with vineyards and olive groves. On our walk back down to the car, we saw a small crew of men harvesting olives. Olives are one of Mom’s favorite things in the world (probably from her traditional, pseudo-Greek upbringing in Astoria), but she made the mistake of picking a ripe olive off a tree and eating it – I don’t think it ever reached her stomach. We drove on to have nice lunch in Volpaia, a hill-top village. On our walk around the small town, we saw the real deal: grapes had just been pressed in a small winery, and transferred to vats. The grape casings were loaded into a small cart, men were carrying pails of grape juice, and the cobblestone streets were stained bright, Chianti red. We drove back to our hotel and walked into Sienna. We visited the Piazza del Campo, with the inclined, scallop-shaped square and the famous tower. The Duomo in Sienna was more elaborate than Florence’s, and the Piccolomini Library had amazingly bright frescos that depicted the life of the Pope from Sienna. After a brief visit by the ugly Americans who argued over the most appropriate bakery to buy panforte, all was made well by a few glasses of chilled sambuca back at the hotel.
The next day we left Siena and returned to Florence. We stopped in Monteriggioni, yet another walled, hilltop village that had been deserted and was re-established in the 1960s. It’s the destination of many Medieval geeks who are software developers by day and knights in their dreams (presumably still searching for the fair maiden who will see the knight within). We drove on to Volterra, a large, walled, windy City. We visited the Roman theater and baths, a small harvest fair, the fortress, and the Etruscan acropolis, the oldest landmark of our trip (~500 BC). After our drive back to Florence, we returned the rental car, and had a dinner of apertifos and shared a bottle of nice Chianti at Shea’s apartment (Dad wanted to eat some liver with fava beans for the full effect, but Mom didn’t see the humor).
Back in Florence, the next morning we walked to the Piazza San Marco and Piazza Santissima Annunziata. We saw the shrine of the Madonna and the annunciation, painted by a no-name friar. His other paintings mustn’t have been so good, because people believe he was miraculously helped by an angel (kind of a Renaissance art version of a ‘one-hit wonder’). There was an open market in the Piazza which must have inspired us, because we bee-lined it to the larger San Lorenzo market and bought one of everything (wallet, belts, scarves, pair of boots, pair of gloves). We walked over Ponte Vecchio to have lunch in Piazza del Santo Spirito. After lunch, we went to the Bargello, an old city palace with a large courtyard, and a museum with Michelangelo’s Bacchus Drunk (apparently modeled after a college freshman), Donatello’s St. George (his David was being restored), Verrocchio’s David, and Giambologna’s Mercury. Our attempt at adopting a European eating schedule kind of backfired. After another bottle of Chianti at Shea’s apartment, we began looking for a restaurant. It was Saturday night and All-Saints’ Day, so the streets and restaurants were packed. After another brief visit from the ugly Americans, we found a restaurant that was unassuming from the street, but seemed to be popular with the locals. We had to wait for a table, but we enjoyed watching the grill chef at work. The meal was worth the wait, and we finished with biscotti, vin Santo and limoncello.
Our last day in Florence, we took a bus across the Arno to San Miniato al Monte and Piazzale Michelangelo. The ride was a nice way to see other parts of the city, including the Porta Roma. San Miniato was a small church with a large cemetery and crypt, so it was beautiful and creepy. Saint Minias was an early Christian martyr who was decapitated down by the river, but realizing that a church in his name would be more popular if it overlooked Florence, he picked up his head and walked up the hill. His bones are on an altar in the lower level of the church. There was a lone nun kneeling in prayer in front of the relic and a young man playing the huge pipe organ, making the experience simultaneously scary and uplifting. Piazzale Michelangelo has a view of the entire city and was a popular strolling location for Florentines, and for some strange reason it’s also a common place for Asian weddings (?). We took a bus back to the city, walked by Santa Maria Novella, Piazza Republica, Piazza della Signoria (again), and had lunch at Piazza Santa Croce. We had cappuccini and gelato at Vivoli, stopped one last time at the Baptistry doors, and said ‘ciao’ to Shea. We took a slow train back to Rome and flew out the next morning.
We saw much of Rome, Florence, Sienna and other parts of Tuscany. The deep, layered history was something we’ve never seen before. We often saw ancient Roman or Etruscan ruins, alongside Medieval and Renaissance buildings, melded with modern Italian culture. It was wonderful to hear that each statue, monument or painting had a story (some places must have thousands of stories). Despite the many wonderful places we visited, we think the long lunches at street-side cafés, or slowly sharing a bottle of Chianti and enjoying each other’s company are what we’ll remember most. Thanks, Shea.