Incontriamoci a Borgo!

Wine bar on Borgo Pio. The Associazione Culturale plaque says
 "Incontriamoci a Borgo" ... Let's meet at the Borgo

I’ve already written a little bit about the Borgo, Rome's 14th district (Rione). It is just outside Vatican City, to the left side of the map. Notice the Castel Sant'Angelo to the right. Via della Conciliazione is a broad, straight avenue leading into St. Peter's Square, which was built under Mussolini. 

The Borgo became prosperous when the Papacy moved to Vatican City, during the time the current St. Peter’s Basilica was built (between 1506 and 1626). There are a LOT of places to eat in Rome, but it is even more concentrated in the Borgo, especially on Borgo Pio. And since that is crutching distance for me, that makes it is an easy place to go for lunch or dinner.

Porto Spirito on the way

We’ve eaten there four times, I think. Our server made one recent lunch memorable. An ebullient Tunisian transplant, Manzour had the perfect personality and claimed to speak six languages with English being his least proficient. He did pretty well all the same and was charming enough to let us use our halting Italian. He even put his phone number on the receipt and encouraged us to arrange language lessons with him. He said we could help him with his English!

Missed the nun but caught Manzour unintentionally

I passed him inside the restaurant at one point after he let me use a restroom in the back to save me going down the steep stairs to the regular one. I thanked him and told him he was charming. He flashed a smile, “Charming? Does that mean nice?” He seemed genuinely appreciative later when I looked it up in Italian. “Affascinante.” Another smile.

Borgo Pio Cane

I have resolved to take more photos of people we meet, but I am very shy asking for permission. (It seems so in-your-face to me.) 

Samantha, a table mate at another local eatery, who along with her husband, Dominic (both from Philadelphia) were visiting Rome and Florence before heading to Ireland for a friend's destination wedding. One of the few people I wasn't shy asking to pose ... 

Manzour may have solved the problem for me. When he asked if he could take our photo, my phone was set to selfie mode. (A nun had gone into the gelato shop next door, and I had hoped to catch her coming out but she slipped by me.) But Manzour knew just what to do.

\

Now I just need to use my Manzour rouse again—people love taking photos of themselves! Have you found other methods of getting strangers to pose for photos?

Rome's ubiquitous Madonnas never object (Borgo Madonna)

Walking to and from the Borgo is half the pleasure. You can see from the map how one would encounter views of St. Peter's and the Castel Sant'Angelo over and over again on this route.  

San Pietro

San Pietro and lighted Ponte Vittorio Emanuele II

Castel Sant'Angelo and lighted Ponte Vittorio Emanuele II

                         

Laundry Day

We continue to get settled into our new place here in Rome, which includes doing chores like laundry. 

Our little laundry room off the kitchen

We have an automatic washing machine, but many Americans are taken aback to find no electric clothes dryers here. (Much like friends visiting Seattle are often amazed to find virtually no home air conditioners there.) We’ve done a few loads of laundry since we arrived, using the manual clothes dryers in the house.

Our main clothes dryer gets stored behind the dining room door ... 

You have to time doing laundry for a dry day and be prepared to take things inside (after they’ve stopped dripping) to finishing drying overnight.

All this dried in about a day ... we'll see what happens in winter!

Or you can do a smaller number of things and dry them on the rack designed for over the bathtub.

Either way, it definitely takes more time than back home but the clothes smell great and it feels so virtuous. Life in the slower lane for sure. We have at least one Seattle friend who dries her laundry this old fashioned way as often as possible. (Hi, Gail, hope you are well!) What about the rest of you: how often do you avoid the electric dryer? 

Le Zanzare (Mosquitoes)

Giardino Via di Sant'Onofrio 24A

There are two kinds of people in the world. The ones who either don’t get bitten by mosquitoes or whose bites don’t itch (and who think that people with itchy bites are just making too big a deal of it). Then there are the ones who get bitten a lot and whose bites are so itchy it drives them to a totally anxious, obsessive, self-absorption (and who feel completely misunderstood by the people in the first group). Those closest to us know that Brad is a type 1 and I am a type 2 (first-class honors), although in his defense I will say that Brad has humored me in many ways. (Which group do you fall in? You can post a comment … I was going to ask this at the end of the post but realized the type 1 folks probably won’t read that far, right?)

Verdant alley to our house from gate (in background) off Via di Sant'Onofrio

At any rate, who knew that our lovely little garden would be such a breeding ground? But it is low (just up from the street), surrounded by the house and blocked from the wind by trees, ivy-covered walls, and shrubs. I discovered the problem, to my dismay, the first night we were here with windows and doors wide open to the warm evening. Each day, I counted more and more bites and spent more time rubbing cream into them.

                                                     

Autan. That stuff burns! And the spray was too scary to consider

Of course, I should have realized from the mosquito equipment left out on the study table (a DEET-heavy roll-on repellent that burns the skin, cream for bites, two plug-ins attached to little vials of blue liquid, mosquito spray for the air, and so on). In the bedroom, there were two electric bug lights (one huge). Also, there has been intermittent rain, not to mention a drip-watering system that goes on three times a day creating ever-new breeding grounds. All they need is a tablespoon of water!

It's been raining on and off since we got here             

Not to mention there are no screens on the windows. It took me a few days to convince Brad we just needed to leave everything closed. And not just at night. All the time! Turns out that, while the native mosquitoes are active only during evening and night hours, the little invasive Asian ones are there all day long. Waaah! When we come home at night after dinner, I’m impatient, “Brad! Close that front door fast!” Luckily, there is a big oscillating fan that Brad brings from room to room with us, and the weather has been a little cooler. (Thank you, Brad.)

No window or door stays open now, especially not in the bedroom 

Did you know mosquitoes are the most dangerous creatures on earth? They kill 750,000 people a year by some accounts, the majority from malaria. And did you know the word comes from Italian: mal (bad) aria (air) and that it was known as the Italian national disease until eradicated in1962? Daisy Miller in Henry James’ novel dies of malaria contracted in the Coliseum (although people at the time didn’t know it was transmitted by mosquitoes). 

Lunch on the terrace early enough one sunny day to avoid the biting ...

Anyway, I’m not going to die (from my bites at least). But, ah, the images I had of spending the late summer sitting outside reading and writing blog posts, eating lunches and dinners alfresco, working on my tan up on the terrace. 

On the terrace

Some of the herb pots on the terrace

A view from the terrace back toward overlooking buildings

More potted plants and building views from terrace

In my obsessive google searches, I’ve read that mosquitos are less attracted to light-colored fabrics and can’t bite through loose-fitting clothing with long sleeves and long legs. Also wearing socks helps to protect feet and lower legs, since the Asian ones apparently stay low to the ground. For several days, I went around the house in the same long white linen pants, a white top with long sleeves, and white Asics hiking socks. 

Some days are worse than others ...

There was no way, I was venturing up to the terrace in a swimsuit to sunbathe! It also took me a while to stop from slipping on the wooden floors in my socks while stomping around on the crutches. (Like I said, I owe Brad a debt of gratitude in so many ways!)

To the terrace ...

Silvio, the long-time gardener for our house, came by to see about an application to help keep the mosquitoes down but, with the continually expected rain, he’s not sure when he can do it. 

Silvio, our gardener, looking more like a college professor ... 

So the windows stay closed for now and I don’t go outside the house, except to go away to a restaurant or such. Out and about, they don’t seem to bother me, although I always spray some natural repellent I bought here that has a very heavy citronella-geranium smell. With the cooler weather, I tried sitting up the terrace late one afternoon but they were there, tormenting me, despite a huge repellant candle and my geranium perfume. 

Did I mention how great Brad has been? 

Yes, yes, I know how lucky I am to be here and all, but I don’t want to hear it. It was really good to complain. Thanks for listening!  

Spanish Steps Reopening Ceremony

Spanish Steps finally open again

As noted in yesterday’s post, Brad and I had reservations tonight at the aptly named restaurant Cucina & Vista that overlooks the Spanish Steps. The expected re-opening ceremony didn’t disappoint, with dancers and a light show ending with fireworks while a symphony orchestra played Toreador from Bizet’s Carmen (see Brad’s video at the end of the post).

Dirty steps before ... 

We took a taxi to the restaurant and waited in a short security line, with the typical Italian police, friendly but toting semi-automatic rifles. (You definitely can’t take photos of these guys!) We noticed later, that after the ceremony started they stopped letting people into the area at the base of the steps—there were a lot of people back there, attracted by the music, I expect!

The pretty, modern room was more crowded than last night, with a sense of expectation (photos from restaurant website). 

 

Our table, in the middle under mirror ...

Across from us was a table of Italians: two formally-suited, bearded young men complete with three-pointed pocket squares; a lovely young woman with curly auburn hair and a beautiful flower-patterned jacket over jeans and sandals; a tall hipster of African heritage in jean jacket and high tops; and a kind of nerdy young man in a polo shirt. To our right was a couple from Connecticut. On our left, a mother and daughter, Russian by heritage (apparently their forebears made it out of Moscow in 1917, just ahead of the Bolsheviks) but born in Brussels and now living, respectively, in Santa Barbara, California and Madrid.

As our dinner arrived (pasta con vongole for me and bistecca con patate for Brad), the ceremony started up outside. Everyone rushed to the two small windows to see and take their videos (defeating the purpose of our reservation, I guess, especially since I wasn’t in a position to hop up with everyone else). I had a pretty good view from where I sat, though, and the other diners were quite gracious, moving aside to let me see too. (Actually, I’ve been really impressed by how accommodating and solicitous Romans, and even tourists, on the streets have been of me and my hobbling.)

 

A lunch time shot of our little window on the Spanish Steps  ... 

This screenshot gives a better idea of the spectacle (from a forbes article):

 

Photo by Elisabetta Villa/Getty Images for BVLGARI

The nerdy man was excited when Virginia Raggi—the young but embattled new mayor of Rome—started speaking just before the show started. (He confirmed for Brad that it was her.) Among other things, she opposed the suggestion from the Bulgari jewelry house—which funded the almost $1.7 million restoration—to fence the stairs at night against barbarian tourists who sleep and eat and drink on it, saying "It's fundamental to let people use cultural heritage sites.”

Everyone became friendly during and after the show, and we talked for a long time afterward with Kristal and Ludmilla. I was like an excited child when we got home at midnight—didn’t get to sleep until after 2 am.

                  

Not the same as being here, but Brad’s video follows (uploading to YouTube first made it darker and we looked down on the far right of the steps with the big screen TV and its large scaffolding blocking the view, but hope you get the picture well enough). How appropriate, at the fireworks finale, to hear (1) Toreador from Carmen, the opera set in Spain (the staircase is named for Piazza di Spagna at bottom) (2) by the French composer Georges Bizet (the French Bourbon court was the patron of the church at top) (3) played by the Roman Orchestra dell’Accademia Nazionale di Santa Cecilia (founded in 1908 and conducted by some of the major musical figures of the 20th century, including Mahler, Debussy, Strauss, Stravinsky, and Toscanini)!