DAY 4
We walked south in a slightly confused manner for an hour to the Museo Capitolini. Inna was battling a cold after little sleep and had preferred we take a cab, but I inconsiderately wanted to get in a walk before the rain and test my navigational skills which apparently still needed some more work. Inna was patient, but royally pissed.
By the time we climbed the steep steps up to the museum, it was raining pretty steadily, we were much later than we had planned, and we ended up waiting in line forever to get a ticket.
The Italians are no longer a model of Roman efficiency — perhaps the threat of death has dulled their sense of responsibility. The ticket lines at all the Italian museums are total chaos. First, you have the people who are waiting in line to buy a ticket. Then you have the people who have bought their tickets on-line and who — quite understandably — don’t want to wait in line, so they incessantly bump to the front. And every few minutes, one of the ticket takers will just melt down and stop attending to business as they play with their phones or stare off into space. And they also have to answer the telephones, which stops the whole process. And they have to take the audio guides back and return the client’s ID that they kept as collateral. And if there’s a problem, like someone is lost or just needs some information, they have to deal with that calamity. And to add to the mayhem, there are large groups of unruly schoolchildren weaving through the line as their handlers scream at them to shut up. And after you finally get your ticket, you have to go through the metal detector security line, which is always a giant ball of confusion. Basically, it takes about an hour to get into one of the popular museums in Rome. And by the time we ran the gauntlet, I was so pissed off that I didn’t care what was inside. I suggest that the people in charge of Italian museums take a road trip to other countries, say, Belgium or Germany, and see how efficient museums operate, and then come back home and implement the more effective practices.
We wandered aimlessly through the Museo Capitolini. Inna’s video guide was of little help because it required a doctorate in audio engineering to figure out how to sync it with the exhibits. And the people working in the museum were indifferent, insolent, and totally unhelpful. Inna was sick and miserable and we never saw all the famous paintings she wanted to see. I found the exhibits relentlessly repetitive — mostly white marble sculptures of dead Romans and creepy-looking Popes. But the architecture of the building, inside and out, was breathtaking, and the views from the windows, overlooking Rome, were spectacular. http://www.museicapitolini.org/
When we exited the museum, it was raining pretty hard, so we caught a cab to the neighborhood near the Borghese Museum and ate at Cesarina, a fairly obnoxious upscale marble restaurant, featuring tasty lasagna and very average tortellini soup. I’ll say it again: Italian food is highly overrated unless you eat in an expensive restaurant. In comparison to France or Japan, the cuisine is laughable.
As a general rule, most Italian people working in the service industry are rude, slow, and unresponsive — perhaps because they are salaried and don’t expect to be tipped. They have to please their boss, not the people they are serving. I don’t want to give the impression that they are lazy. They work pretty hard. But the average meal goes like this: they greet you respectfully and answer your questions curtly, trying to take your order and get away from you as quickly as they can; and you will be lucky to see them again until they bring your food, and then you won’t see them again until the end of the meal; and getting your check takes forever. They are genuinely surprised to get a tip, which we always do. We experimented with tipping at the beginning to see if we got better service. Sometimes it worked and the waiter was more attentive. But most of the time, it didn’t seem to matter what we did, good or bad.
The Borghesi Museum, the grand two floor, cream-colored Palacio of the Borghese Family, is located in a lush, sprawling park covered in big, old growth sycamores and pine. Tickets sell out days in advance and are only good for two hours, which is just enough time to see everything. http://galleriaborghese.beniculturali.it/it
We bought our 30€ per person tickets for the Borghese Museum through “Get Your Guide” tours two days in advance in anticipation of the rain. That price did not include a guide to take us around; it was essentially just a bump in front of the line ticket. The Borghese is a captivating museum in that each room is incredibly ornate with golden-framed paintings adorning the stucco walls; there are bright, jaw-dropping ceiling murals, depicting angels and the revelry of the gods; and lovely furniture and sculptures — some quite famous and heavy on David and Goliath and rape — along with paintings by many Italian masters of the 15th century like Caravaggio, Dossi, Cranach, Canova, and Correggio.
I thought the rooms were stunning but the artwork was repetitive with all things Jesús and Mary and naked flat-chested young girls, waiting to be ravaged.
Here’s the thing, after you have seen ten incredibly ornate Catholic Churches — and Rome has over a thousand — they all start to blend together, like the temples in Japan. They are more magnificent than any church in America, but still … to the untrained eye it’s still pretty much like Groundhog Day. And to me, the Borghese Museum was like that by the third room on the first floor. After the tenth marble Roman head on a stick or Mother Mary grasping a suckling baby Jesus, I was ready to flee. I suppose it’s an acquired taste.
I tended to gravitate to the architecture, birds, and the manicured gardens. I guess I’m just an outdoor kind of guy. Inna, on the other hand, was totally enthralled by every museum we visited, so I was happy to go along.
When we left the museum at 5, it was steady raining, so we caught a cab back to the hotel.
We had managed to see two of Rome’s finest museums on a cold (fifties) and rainy day. When traveling, you always have to adapt to the weather and you can’t let a little rain spoil your vacation.
After chilling in our hotel the rain stopped briefly and we ambled over to the Trinity del Monti, a sanctified Egyptian/Roman obelisk and monstrous Catholic Church perched on a hilltop, and then down the teeming Spanish Steps into the Piazza Mignanel, a Gucci World pedestrian shopping area.
Inna checked out a few shops and then it started raining again, so we ate dinner under cover from the rain at another pasta palace restaurant called Mignaneli where I finally got off the Peroni beer train and hopped on the Spina beer train.
One of the things that endlessly amused me was the music we heard during our travels. The Italians apparently stopped making their own music shortly after World War II. These days they love to listen to American/British rock — mostly old 90’s pop rock. Michael Jackson, the Rolling Stones, Aerosmith were constantly wafting on the wind wherever we went. I found it all pretty goofy.
Walked 8.2 miles
Insider Tip — May and September are the two best months to visit Italy. The weather is usually perfect and the crowds are light compared to summer when it’s hot and the kids are out of school.
Insider Tip — Most travel books and seasoned travelers will tell you not to get a hotel or apartment in the center of Rome, Milan, or Florence because it’s too busy and crazy loud. Inna and I did the exact opposite and stayed a few blocks from the Duomo in Milan and Florence, and in Rome, we were a stone’s throw away from the always popular Trevi Fountain. And until ten at night it was pretty cranked. We could always hear street musicians, drunks, and packs of hormone-laced youth. But it was interesting as hell to watch the chaos from our balcony above the fray, like seeing an unrehearsed movie, and it was essentially free entertainment. And we never went to bed before midnight, and by then, things always quieted down significantly. When you stay in the heart of the beast you are near everything of interest, and after walking all morning , taking in the sights, you can easily walk back to your hotel and rest. But if you stay outside the city center, there’s less to do and see, and you will end up wasting tons of money on taxis. You travel to get the whole unbridled experience, and that often means crowds and definitely means noise. But most Italian hotels have soundproof windows that you can close when you need a little peace and quiet. So get with the program and don’t be a puss.
Insider Tip — The Museo Capitolini is listed in all of the guide books as a must see. It sits right next to the Victor Emmanuel War Memorial on a prominent hilltop. I recommend checking it out from the outside, for sure. But the inside of the museum is, in my opinion, not worth the effort, and even without a line, I would consider it a waste of time, unless it’s raining and you want a port in the storm.
Insider Tip — In many of the busier places around Rome, you will see lots of cabs zipping by. If you try waving them over, they won’t stop. There are designated taxi stands where the cabs wait patiently in line. So, it always pays to know where the taxi stands are located. Otherwise you will probably end up standing by the side of a busy road and waving your hand at cabs like an idiot and wondering why none of them ever pull over.
