A three-sentence history of Rome: The Roman Empire existed for about 1,000 years. It rose from (approximately) 500 BC to 0, was at its height until 200 AD, and fell until 500 AD. Toward the beginning of its fall, the Aurelian Walls were built around Rome to keep out invaders (not that they managed it well; Attila the Hun still broke through in the early 400s). These walls still encircle downtown and Ancient Rome, as well as Trastevere. Some sections have even been turned into apartments and stores.
We spent our last full day in Rome exploring beyond these walls, primarily to the north of the city. Our first stop was the Catacombe di Priscilla, 13 km (8 mi) of underground catacombs used from 200 to 300 AD. 40,000 bodies were, and many still are, interred there. Our tour through the catacombs covered about half a mile of these low-ceilinged, cell-phone-flashlight-lit underground corridors, where bodies were lain in locker-type cubbies, five or ten high.
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A note on the title: Whereas Paris is the City of Light and New York is the City that Never Sleeps, Rome is nicknamed "The Eternal City"--and aptly so.
This was the day in Rome I'd been looking forward to with the enthusiasm of a child at Disneyland: The day of old stuff. I've always loved anything to do with ancient Egypt, Greece, or Rome, so the thought of seeing the remains of an ancient city (my first since Jerusalem and, arguably, St. Albans; Ryan's first since he was here in 2008) was beyond exciting.
We had breakfast on our hotel's terrace before setting off for the Colosseo on foot, armed with several downloaded audio tours from Rick Steves. We spent an hour wandering around the Colosseum, looking down at the arena from every angle, before heading through the Triumphal Arch and into the Roman Forum on just the other side of the hill. This was the political and economic center of Rome during its heyday, was the site of Julius Caesar's home and assassination, and saw Rome's rise and fall within less than 1,000 years. We wandered between the remnants of Pagan temples and Christian churches, snuck glances at tour guides' revisualizations of what each spot would have looked like 2,000 years ago. After a long, hot trek up Palatine Hill (Monte Palatino), we wandered through remnants of the emperor's homesteads, Roman baths, gardens, and guest houses. The grandeur of everything we saw, even in ruins, was incredible.
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I'm learning very quickly that we are creatures of caffeine-powered habit. We've traveled together across ten states and, prior to our honeymoon, four countries; and no matter where we go, we have to start each day with the most important decision we'll make for the morning: where to get coffee.
So we set off early Tuesday morning toward Country #2 of our honeymoon, and also the smallest country in the world: Vatican City. Our hotel is just down a long but straight drive along the Tiber River from the walls that separate the Vatican gardens from the rest of Rome, so after walking alongside those walls, we found Caffé Braccio. (This is pronounced BRA-cho--Ryan is getting increasingly bemused by my inability to keep the different sounds 'cc,' 'ci/ce,' 'ca/co,' and 'ch' separate...I default to the Spanish 'c'/'s'/'z' and Ryan is rolling his eyes behind me.)
After two (or three?) cappuccinos/espressos each, we moved along to the entrance to the Museo Vaticano alongside our private tour guide, Tommaso. All the shout-outs to David and Libbie, who made that private tour possible--because otherwise, and even with a ticket reservation, we would have been standing in a half-mile-long line the entire morning just to get through the entrance. Tommaso got us to the front of every line, and coupled every new room with historical knowledge and wit. He's an archeologist from Sapienza University (literally, "knowledge") on the other side of the city--the same archeology team now excavating part of the Roman Forum. Throughout the tour, Tommaso pointed out sly additions (or occasionally omissions) to frescoes and sculptures that were, hundreds of years ago, political or social statements against a particular pope, rival artist, or ruling family.
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Gone are the days of being able to sleep on red-eye flights. Whether cross-country or cross-Atlantic, Ryan and I have done several together--and each time involves the same cycle from book to magazine to in-flight movie to Spotify, and back to book again. We'd glance at each other, confirm neither was asleep, and move sluggishly on. While Ryan was revisiting the newest Star Trek, I was powering through the first half of The Time Traveler's Wife. We paused at around 2 AM Italy time to stuff our faces in our new travel pillows (yes, we even invested in pillows for this), poked each other at around 3 AM to see if they were doing their job (they weren't), and kept on reading/watching/bemoaning our promised jet lag.
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