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Most of Rome’s public transport is overground for the reason already mentioned: it’s almost impossible to move anywhere (including underground) without discovering something hugely historically significant. Last year archeologists found a 2000-year-old wooden chalice at the bottom of a well. Before that it was a villa, complete with well-preserved mosaics made of shell and glass and dating to the second century BC, uncovered near the Colosseum.
I set out on foot from the train station to see what I could see on the way to the Pantheon.
And what I saw was cobbled streets, narrow laneways, stuccoed terrace homes with pediments and lintels, wooden shutters closed against the early spring heat. And I saw a line of colonnades emerging from a sunken plaza: the Largo di Torre Argentina and the remains of the Theatre of Pompey – the very place where Julius Caesar was stabbed. The stumpy remains of four temples are visible – one dating back to the third or fourth century BC – and lots and lots of cats. (I later learned that they are part of a cat sanctuary, here despite archaeologists wanting them gone in favour of protecting the ongoing excavation.)
I walk on to the Piazza Navona, which is bookended by centuries-old Baroque-style marble fountains: to the south is the 16th-century Fontana del Moro and to the north is the Fontana del Nettuno. In the middle is the Fontana dei Fiumi. But the magnificent plaza, overlooked by the beautiful Sant’Agnese in Agone church, is sitting on a secret.
The plaza’s elongated oval shape hints at what is below: the first-century Stadium of Domitian, site of the Olympics when the games included such disciplines as musical and poetry challenges. The emperor had thought the Romans might like a spectacle less violent than the Greek games. Aww, bless. History tells us he was wrong. The remains of the stadium have only been open to the public for 10 years but still intact, or at least partially intact, are some walls, pilasters and columns and the staircase for the audience.
But centuries-old temples and fountains and a 2000-year-old buried stadium accidentally stumbled across, are mere diversions on my way to my actual destination, which is just around the corner: Agrippa’s masterpiece.
Everything sounded so much prettier in Rome: the Via Del Salvatore led to the Via Giustiniani, and I crossed the Via Della Dogan a Vecchia as I walked towards Agrippa’s masterpiece.
Archaeologists can argue about who actually built the Pantheon but I daresay it was a much more lustrous sight in its day: its dome was originally covered with bronze scale-like panels when it was erected as a homage to 12 gods before the Christians turned it into a basilica for one.
Its history makes it remarkable: rebuilt by the Emperor Hadrian between 118 and 125 AD, the Pantheon is the only ancient Roman building that has remained practically intact through the centuries. And it is the world’s largest unreinforced concrete dome, topped with an oculus that lets in natural light. The queue to see the light, though, was hours long so I circled the building and, with great regret I kept walking.
Only about 10 minutes’ walk from the Pantheon is the Trevi Fountain, currently and controversially closed for repairs. The 18th-century waterfall is at the intersection of three roads (tre – vi) and is the most famous fountain in the world. It is indeed lovely: backed by the monumental Palazzo Poli, a cool splash of water flows into a pale blue-green pool, the endpoint of an ancient viaduct. Statuesque fellas and their equally muscled, flowing-maned horses thrust lustily out of the clear flowing water to be photographed by the hundreds of tourists gathered at its edge. Just looking at the fresh, clean water lowers my temperature a little as I pushed through the heaving throng to get to the front.
On the way to the Spanish Steps, I came across the Basilica Sant’Andrea delle Fratte, a stunning Baroque church from the 12th century, absolutely dripping with religious art and home to two intricately carved angels, originally intended for a bridge. Pope Clement thought they were too beautiful to be outside in the elements so they are kept inside the basilica. It also gave me a few minutes’ respite from the heat and the crowds as I sat and rested my aching feet.
The 135 steps link the Piazza di Spagna to the church of Trinità dei Monti and are often lined with smiling tourists photographing themselves or being photographed. I climbed up them and I climbed down them and I wasn’t sure what the big deal was. For sure, they are pretty and the church at the top is suitably photogenic but in a city fair bursting with architectural and historical treasures, the Spanish Steps seem to be the Kardashians of the Roman relic world: famous for no other reason than they are famous.
I got more pleasure from finding an old acquaduct down a side street or a quiet little church, empty and peaceful in the warm late afternoon.
But it was the biggest one of them all that drew me back into the city the next morning: stepping off the train at the Estación Roma San Pietro, I made my way through nearly empty Sunday morning streets to the Vatican. Church bells pealed from a variety of churches as I walked. Stepping through the Vatican gates is like walking into an open-air museum of magnificent sculpture and architecture.
A semi-circular colonnade topped with saints looked down on the queue corralled by barriers as it snaked towards the great wooden doors of St Peter’s Basilica. As I neared the open doors to enter the great emblem of the problematic Catholic Church I struggled with my personal qualms about its history.
But the sheer artistry of the place is overwhelming. The frescoes; the statues, the dome – it really is magnificent.
Inside, choirs were singing and priests promenading in their gowns. I explored the dome, climbing with hundreds of others to the roof. We walked leaning sideways against the inward curving dome to see services going on about 100m below.
Disaster struck on my way to the Forum. I stopped first at the Colosseum, wanting to walk around it first, to absorb the bloody horror of the structure and prepare to enter for interpretation. The Colosseum is more than the arena: it’s a precinct of ancient churches, drinking water fountains and crooked pathways. Heading then towards the Forum and its collection of ruined government buildings, I followed one of the interesting pathways and discovered the Church of San Bonaventura al Palatino, a modest little chapel that was more my style: understated, non-pretentious, not to mention just plain old. The church was originally built in the 17th century and has had various updates and iterations over the years.
Yes, I stayed hydrated, yes, I wore a hat. But I got sunstroke. I was forced to seek refuge in a local cafe, where the staff were nothing short of angels. They brought me bowls of cold water to dunk my hands and let me sit there without purchasing anything until I was vaguely compos mentis again. Of course, that meant I really had to buy a pizza as thanks for their care.
Once recovered, I decided exploring Rome may be better via bicycle. The Appian Way is one of the oldest roads in the world – the first section was finished in 312BC. On my way to the road, and struggling to find the bus stop that would get me there, I tripped over an original set of city gates.
The Porta San Paolo was set into the Aurelian Wall, and was the southern entrance to the city in the 3rd century AD. It’s a museum now – but wasn’t a particularly successful barrier to enemies: the Ostrogoths came into the city through the gates in 549 and the Germans in 1943.
From the Hypogeum of Vibia to the Cecchignola Water Tower, the Appian Way is a promenade of tombs, ruined villas – even the remains of a circus. There are crumbling walls and ruined churches. There are catacombs and archways, basilicas and cobbles. It took me all day to explore just one section, stopping at every half dozen rotations of my wheels to exclaim over yet another treasure. The sheer age of the stuctures, even in ruins, is incomprehensible – the sheer number of them even more so.
Yes, the Trevi Fountain is amazing; yes, the Vatican is incredible. But the joy of Rome is in the unexpected finds: the thousand-year-old city gates casually circled by modern-day traffic; the sheep bells clanging as the animals grazed alongside one of of oldest roads in the world, the preserved aqueduct behind a fence in the middle of town.
Thus I learned that the best way to see Rome is to just well, roam.
Checklist
GETTING THERE
Fly from Auckland to Rome with one stopover with Qatar Airways, Singapore Airlines, Emirates and China Eastern.
DETAILS
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