Testy, Torn, Testaccio
I’ve got the blog-blahs. With one week to go until we return, I just want to lie around and mope. Isn’t that strange? I’m already moping that I’m leaving and moping because I already want to be home. It’s a weird struggle: at first this trip looked like it was going to be a hellish ride because of Italy-accom’s incompetence. When we finally got settled into our apartment and our family had its little reunion, everything began to swing around.
When they left we dug ourselves deep into Tom’s project on the Baroque churches and we accomplished an amazing amount: something to the tune of 150+ images a day. At last count (today) we have 4000 images and 3+ hours of film footage. We have four books in the works (including one just on the graffiti culture of Rome) and a project that Tom is keeping Top Secret as a surprise for those of you who have been following the blog faithfully.
So I have mixed feelings. But one thing is for sure, I have come to love Via San Francesco a Ripa. If it weren’t for the crazy guy above us (who I yelled at today for breaking the elevator. Again.) and the crazy noise, I’d be truly happy. Our street has all the bohemian chic and old-Italian style that makes Italy what it is, and yet remains neighborly. This part of Trastevere is so different from the true center of Rome, and more endearing because of it. You could literally live here without crossing the Tiber for anything except to check in with the American Embassy every once in a while.
We wandered into Testaccio yesterday and I finally breathed a bit of fresh air. Testaccio is just southeast of us, across the river. New sights! New open spaces! Different feeling altogether. I told Tom that I could live in an area like Testaccio, where the people actually smile (a bit) and the streets are wider (a bit) and the chaos is tempered (a bit) by the lack of tourist sights and notable lack of churches.
We went to the Market at Piazza Testaccio and were delighted at the loud but friendly calls of the fishmonger; the smell of Clementine oranges being broken open by the fruit vendors; the mustardy, earthy smell of chestnuts roasting; the bewildering display signs of specials; the meat cases with skinned baby pigs the size of a loaf of bread, black footed chickens, and smiling pig’s heads; and the sight of elderly mammas picking though the jumble of pillowcases, purses, shoes, t-shirts, and household items piled on the outlying tables. It was a lovely morning that was topped off by an excellent lunch at “D’albino il Sardo” with the ever-avuncular Angelo tending to us. Couldn’t ask for more.
When they left we dug ourselves deep into Tom’s project on the Baroque churches and we accomplished an amazing amount: something to the tune of 150+ images a day. At last count (today) we have 4000 images and 3+ hours of film footage. We have four books in the works (including one just on the graffiti culture of Rome) and a project that Tom is keeping Top Secret as a surprise for those of you who have been following the blog faithfully.
So I have mixed feelings. But one thing is for sure, I have come to love Via San Francesco a Ripa. If it weren’t for the crazy guy above us (who I yelled at today for breaking the elevator. Again.) and the crazy noise, I’d be truly happy. Our street has all the bohemian chic and old-Italian style that makes Italy what it is, and yet remains neighborly. This part of Trastevere is so different from the true center of Rome, and more endearing because of it. You could literally live here without crossing the Tiber for anything except to check in with the American Embassy every once in a while.
We wandered into Testaccio yesterday and I finally breathed a bit of fresh air. Testaccio is just southeast of us, across the river. New sights! New open spaces! Different feeling altogether. I told Tom that I could live in an area like Testaccio, where the people actually smile (a bit) and the streets are wider (a bit) and the chaos is tempered (a bit) by the lack of tourist sights and notable lack of churches.
We went to the Market at Piazza Testaccio and were delighted at the loud but friendly calls of the fishmonger; the smell of Clementine oranges being broken open by the fruit vendors; the mustardy, earthy smell of chestnuts roasting; the bewildering display signs of specials; the meat cases with skinned baby pigs the size of a loaf of bread, black footed chickens, and smiling pig’s heads; and the sight of elderly mammas picking though the jumble of pillowcases, purses, shoes, t-shirts, and household items piled on the outlying tables. It was a lovely morning that was topped off by an excellent lunch at “D’albino il Sardo” with the ever-avuncular Angelo tending to us. Couldn’t ask for more.
posted by Tom Dowling and Lisa Dowling | 7:28 AM
2 Comments:
one more week.....i am counting down the days i am sorry to say. i know it must be bittersweet these days for you all. and i, like everyone else, will miss the blogging-it has been a real treat.
can't wait to smooch my people soon!!! i love you
jess
I second that! You are going to have to write those four books because I've become addicted to reading about the street culture, the highs and lows, of Roman life.
But, I'd trade it all in a second for a big fat smoochy kiss from my best friend.
Btw - Any plans for your big B-Day in Rome? What a treat! Maybe you should get crazy guy upstairs to babysit Clare while you head out for a night out on the town? I'm sure she'd survive...sort of!
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