n i g h t i n g a l e s h i r a z / blog
la Toscana nel cestino...

june 2023
january 2023
december 2022
september 2022
august 2022
july 2022
january 2022
november 2021
october 2021
september 2021
august 2021
july 2021
june 2021
may 2021
april 2021
march 2021
february 2021
january 2021
september 2020
august 2020
july 2020
may 2020
april 2020
march 2020
february 2020
december 2019
october 2019
july 2019
june 2019
may 2019
april 2019
march 2019
february 2019
january 2019
december 2018
november 2018
october 2018
september 2018
august 2018
july 2018
june 2018
may 2018
april 2018
march 2018
february 2018
january 2018
december 2017
november 2017
october 2017
september 2017
august 2017
july 2017
june 2017
march 2017
february 2017
january 2017
november 2016
october 2016
september 2016
august 2016
july 2016
june 2016
may 2016
april 2016
march 2016
february 2016
december 2015
november 2015
october 2015
september 2015
may 2015
march 2015
february 2015
january 2015
december 2014
november 2014
october 2014
september 2014
august 2014
may 2014
april 2014
march 2014
february 2014
*april 2013
*march 2013
*february 2013
*january 2013
*december 2012
*november 2012
*october 2012
*september 2012
*july 2012
*october 2011
*september 2011
*august 2011
*july 2011
*june 2011
*may 2011
april 2011
march 2011
april 2010
march 2010
february 2010
january 2010
december 2009
november 2009
september 2009
june 2009
may 2009
february 2009
january 2009
december 2008
october 2008
september 2008
august 2008
july 2008
june 2008
may 2008
april 2008
january 2008
december 2007
november 2007
october 2007
september 2007
august 2007
july 2007
june 2007
may 2007
april 2007
march 2007
february 2007
january 2007
december 2006
november 2006
october 2006
september 2006
august 2006
july 2006
june 2006
may 2006
april 2006
march 2006
february 2006
january 2006
december 2005
november 2005
october 2005
september 2005
august 2005
july 2005
june 2005
may 2005
april 2005
march 2005
february 2005
january 2005
december 2004
november 2004
october 2004
september 2004
august 2004
july 2004
june 2004
may 2004
april 2004
march 2004
february 2004
january 2004
december 2003
june 2003
april 2003
march 2003
 
signs.

i should go home.  i should work on the next culture shock presentation.  i should finish the workplan.  i should be looking, and waiting, for the 492.  instead i scan the other bus routes, as i stand outside Le Bain on Via delle Botteghe Oscure.  i see that the 81 is coming.  i see that it goes past my soon-to-be new neighborhood.

i get on.

i am texting Stephanie -- she is stuck somewhere that is not Tivoli, but that should have been -- when i happen to glance up and notice the bus is flying up the Aventino, and i am being swept past the Foro Palatino like an emperor.  i am shamed at the smallness of my attention.  i can sms later, when maybe i am not sweeping past two thousand odd years of divine power.

i ask for the fermata where i think i should -- i am still learning (i will have three-plus-two years, i tell myself).  i step off the bus and wait till it draws away, leaving in front of me in its stead: the Colosseo, the Arch of Constantine, and Holy Roman Sky.  i wonder what it will be like, coming home at night.  i wonder what it will be like, coming home in the rain.  i wonder what it will be like, coming home to this for three-plus-two years.  again, in front of a view like this, it is hard not to feel like a queen, like an empress.

and of caput mundi, at that.

i force myself to turn around and walk up Via Claudia (how can you turn your back on a presence like this?) -- past Via Capo d'Africa, and then to Via Marco Aurelio: unobstrusive and understated and entirely at ease with so lofty the role of philosopher king of roads.  if you wanted the specifics, it seems to say, *this* is where they all lead.

i still cannot tell for sure which windows are mine.  i stand across from the doorway, and begin to make friends with the street, with the stone, with the air.  i walk on, and pass the Commissariato next door -- i see the sign for the Questura di Roma and i catch myself almost looking forward to the next round of permesso work.  almost.

the sprawling Carabinieri outpost is next.  it is not what you would expect: a whimsically painted palazzo, with palm trees in the garden and peppers growing in the front yard.  i notice how carefully the tomotaoes, too, have been planted -- rows of lovingly tended veggies that some junior commandante has placed in military lines.  maybe he was missing his mamma's pummarola.

i pass two wine bars, one of which is called Kottabos (the good omens continue), but neither of which is open on Sundays.  so i circle around, making mental notes of the nearest nasone, the inevitable Irish pub, and the typically-excellent looking neighborhood latteria.  as i turn down Via dei Santissimi Quattro and pause a moment in front of Cafè Cafè, i notice the garbage can outside the supermarket.  it has been stuffed with the pieces of a full-on gladiator costume -- breastplate, plumed helmet, sword and sheath...  i wonder what made him quit, and i wonder why i have not brought my camera...


[nightingaleshiraz] [?]
[Cafè Cafè, Roma]
[domenica 28 settembre 2008 ore 16:28:23] []