Thursday, June 24, 2010

Was it the council or the Capulets who kidnapped the car and the vessel with the pestle...?

Lately, I’ve been taking stock of my ongoing transformation from precise Briton to abstract new Roman and asking myself some really harsh questions, such as: Will I ever manage to leave the cheese counter having purchased something I can actually stomach?  Will I ever be able to buy clothes in Rome, given that only extra-small is ever hung on show and my size is generally stored down in the basement to avoid frightening local children? 

A key factor slowing down the progress is my inability to stop assuming every new predicament I find myself in, will pan out the way it does in England. For better or for worse, it just doesn’t.  Take the other morning when Gastro-gnome and I dashed out of my flat, only to find a slightly larger car parked outside Dante Alighieri High School in the exact spot where Little Peugot had once stood.  A quick look around showed up nothing untoward; zebra-crossings loaded with parked cars, paths littered with scooters, pedestrians choosing to dodge flying vehicles in the road, rather than find themselves trapped on paths.  Clearly Little Peugot had been kidnapped and as yet no ransom note had materialised.  We reasoned optimistically, if we had to go down to Naples to find her, at least we could bring back some mozzerella di bufala.  Maybe the modern day Romeo and Juliet who recently proclaimed their love with a red spray can across the front wall of their High School had used Little Peugot to run away together, escaping their feuding families. 

Eventually, it transpired that she had been towed to a pound, picked on for seemingly much less reason than a dozen vehicles parked around her. A bank security guard had watched with bemusement as Little Peugot sat in shock like a baby blackbird on the back of the truck .  He confirmed she was probably being held against her will, 200 metres down the road behind the Olympic stadium I hastily totted up the probable price of her release, based on the last time my car was towed outside Wembley arena in London, 10 years ago.  Back then, I paid a price which could have comfortably included a full service as well.   In the end Little Peugot’s ransom was less than a quarter of my calculations.  It seems the retrieval price is minimal on a small car much as a  young delinquent would receive a reduced sentence for their crimes.  If you choose to collect the car a few days later, each day is charged at considerably less than a normal day’s parking in the same zone.   As a cheerful little Sardinian man seated on a white plastic chair wrote out a receipt for his ill-gotten gains, no explanation for the abduction was offered but recommendations for restaurants and hotels in Sardinia were thankfully forthcoming and gratefully received.  So car and owner where reunited.  Little Peugot’s rap sheet described her as “dirty” which mortified Gastro-gnome, who like all Romans shares a deep love with his mother and his car, or in many cases, her car as that’s what they are driving.  The spray-painted words on the High School wall, named after Italy’s greatest romantic poet Dante Alighieri, could easily have been written by any Roman motorist to his beloved chariot:  “Our love is like music which can never end”.  It's no coincidence that the new Alfa Romeo model is called Giulietta! That's love.

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Wednesday, June 2, 2010

When Is a Bridge Not a Bridge?

When a Roman talks feverishly about a bridge, “Ponte”  there’s little chance he’s referring to anything spanning the Tiber.  He could be enthusing about status-symbol leather goods, trademark The Bridge but the likelihood is, the bridge in question relates to a one-day National holiday, which, if it were to fall on a Tuesday for example, could merge with the nearest weekend to form a four-day holiday: Ponte, a figurative construction with the power to magically spirit away working days in between. Lately, some work-shy Romans have been bemoaning the loss of two precious bridges, neither of which has collapsed, or been sold brick by brick to the Americans. Both have failed to materialize due to a calendric catastrophe, namely the last two National Holidays have fallen on a weekend. Che pizza! What a pain! But just as it seemed all was lost, Bingo! Today sees a National Holiday fall on a Wednesday which can only mean one thing: Superponte! June 2nd marks the anniversary of Italy becoming a Republic and what better way to celebrate than to bridge today with two equidistant weekends and take the whole week off.  If your boss happens to be a royalist or still refer to Piazza della Repubblica as Piazza Esedra, its pre-Republic name, you may have had to consider a one-way bridge, the secret being to check with Guido Guidi’s weather forecast first before deciding in which direction.

Taking an extended holiday to mark the day Italy sent its Royal Family packing is a curious concept to a Briton whose Royal Family continues to be one of her country’s star attractions.  Maybe the Queen would have to consider upping her game in the face of stiff competition like a Pope or the works of Michelangelo if she faced getting the heave-ho too.  This said, it seems that the Italian Royal Family may have secured a few more votes way back when if only reality TV or even TV had been invented.  Since being allowed back home after decades in exile, the man who would now be king, Emanuele Filiberto is a big hit with today’s public. This year, the viewing public voted him into second place at Sanremo, Italy’s equivalent of the Eurovision Song Contest.  They also sent him rocketing to victory in Italy’s version of Strictly Come Dancing.  Let’s just hope if it ever came to it, Prince Harry could pull something out of the bag on the X Factor, few would ever expect her Royal Highness to break into song.

As a new Roman I got into the spirit of the Ponte this week and took a few hours off on Monday.  After estimating a four-day wait to get into the Caravaggio exhibition at the Scuderie Museum, I gave up and went to try out brunch at Rome’s reportedly best vegetarian restaurant “Margutta Ristorarte” just across the road from Episcopo Lipinsky (fantastic bed and breakfast reviewed on this site). TripAdvisor says it’s expensive but worth it for evening meals but I’m recommending this restaurant for its great value, delicious brunch. Brunch in Rome basically means serve yourself from a large buffet for a set price. It seems to have precious little to do with breakfast and the Roman jaw usually drops when I explain the construction of the word.  The food is excellent and not having to police it for tail or tongue is a bonus if like myself, you are a veggie.  Hot dishes include melanzane alla parmigiana and vegetarian lasagne. The restaurant is bright and sunny and located below Federico Fellini’s old flat near Piazza del Popolo in a hidden, leafy street in the centre of Rome. Get there around 12.30 if you want to be one of the first to dive in and if you are visiting during this Superponte, relax, the next Ponte in Rome falls on a Tuesday. Hurray!
Margutta Ristorarte. Vegetarian. Metro: Flaminio or Spagna. Good disabled access. Open every day

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