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One More Animal Story from Rome: Canine Communication

On our last day in Rome, the Vatican was overrun by German teenagers. Apparently, there was some big youth ministry event, during which Catholic teens from across Europe came to listen to church leaders speak. I guess because the pope is German, the vast majority of these teenagers were from Germany.

That was great for the German teens, but it meant that St. Peter’s was closed and, because we were leaving the next morning, we weren’t going to get to see it. That was pretty disheartening; the German teens had been crowding the entire city and causing havoc everywhere we looked all week, and then to not see one of Rome’s most important sites because of them was like icing on the sweaty-smelling, loud-speaking, unaware-of-any-country’s-social-protocols cake. (Seriously, imagine thousands of teenagers all clumped together. If you’re a teenager yourself, it’s awesome, but if you aren’t it isn’t.)

Anyway, we were pretty dejected and we went to a park near the Vatican to sit down and rest. We had walked to the Vatican from our hotel, which according to Google maps is just over 2 and half miles (not counting getting lost a few times), and we had also gone through the harrowing experience of the Vatican museum, so we were also fairly exhausted.

Around the time we sat down, we noticed a dog come by, on a leash. The dog stopped at a bush right in front of us and began urinating. The dog’s owner yanked on the leash, and the dog quickly went back to walking, and we didn’t think much more of it.

However, as we sat on the bench for the next half an hour or so, we noticed that every dog that walked by went over and smelled that bush, but no others. What was even more interesting was that at one point we saw the original dog that had urinated on the bush coming back in our direction. At the same time, another dog was being walked by the bush. The new dog stopped and smelled the bush and then continued about 30 feet until it began passing the original dog. At that point, both dogs erupted into a furious barking frenzy. Their owners yanked on their leashes and scolded them, then looked at each other apologetically. They had no idea what could have caused the spontaneous outburst.

But we did! Obviously the new dog must have recognized the scent of the original dog from the bush it had just smelled, and for some reason that scent prompted both dogs to have outbursts. I don’t what these smells “meant” to the dogs, but they obviously signified somehow. I also don’t know how long this chain of communication had been going on. Maybe the new dog had already urinated on the bush at some point, and the original dog had breached some sort of etiquette by marking the spot.

Or maybe it was something else. What was clear, however, was that as we watched the dogs we became aware of a who layer of communication that was going on between these dogs, that no one else, especially their owners, seemed to be aware of.

The park where we witnessed secret dog communication

Animals in Rome: Cats, Rats, and Otters

One night as we wandered around Rome, we came upon a group of ruins labeled by our map as Area Sacra. As we got closer to take a look, we discovered that the ruins were in the center of a large open space, and were set down below street level (which makes sense, as the ground was lower during Roman times). Basically it looked like a sunken courtyard or square, which was surrounded by a low fence.

We looked at the ruins for a few minutes, but we quickly started to notice that the whole area smelled like urine. We had seen people urinating in public throughout our trip, but the smell seemed too strong to be coming from a few indiscreet guys peeing on things. Also, it didn’t smell exactly like urine, just sort of like it.

As we wondered what was going on, we noticed a couple of cats down in the ruins. We watched them for a minute or two, and then noticed a few more. Pretty soon, we were seeing cats everywhere in the ruins.

And then we realized: the ruins didn’t smell like human urine, they smelled like cat urine. Basically, it smelled like a huge litter box.

Area Sacra: Home to a billion cats

We watched for a a while longer, and managed to count literally dozens of cats just in the corner of the ruins nearest us. Later, I would learn that the Area Sacra is a cat sanctuary and that Rome is generally famous for its felines. At the time, however, it was amazing just to see so many cats in one spot.

A few days later we were at the Pantheon. It was late and dark, but there were still a lot of people around. The actual building was closed, but we were walking around the outside looking at the architecture when I noticed something moving a few feet away. Then, I saw it again. By the third time I saw it, I realized the moving objects were rats, running around the ruins to the side of the Pantheon. I was freaked out. While I’ve seen rats on the streets of many cities before, I’d never seen so many. At any given glance I could look over and see a few scampering around. This seemed strange to me, given the notoriety (and shear numbers) of Rome’s cats.

Yet another day, while we were walking toward Trastevere for dinner, we looked down at the Tiber river and saw something swimming. We stopped to watch it for a second and I realized that it looked like an otter. (Laura argued that it was a huge, dog-sized rat that like to swim, but eventually I convinced her that that explanation didn’t make sense for a lot of reasons.) I don’t know for sure if it was an otter, because I don’t know if otter live in the Tiber, but its size, shape, color, and behavior were all very much otter-like.

We watched the otter-thing swim toward a cluster of plants on the bank. The Tiber, like many big rivers running through major European cities, is lined by tall stone walls and has a walkway down near the water’s edge. We were up above, but as the otter saw toward the plants, a guy who was reading a book saw it too. He got up to get a closer look. However, because he was so close to the water’s edge he didn’t have a good view, so we tried to yell directions from up above. It was kind of impulsive and based on his response I don’t think he spoke English, but it was nevertheless clear that we weren’t the only ones who were surprised to see an otter in the Tiber.

The Tiber River, near where we saw the otter. We were up above at the bridge level. The otter and guy where down below.

Rome Part 1

First, if you’ve been reading this blog, you might think that our trip ended in Florence. It did not, however. Rather, I didn’t finish the blog on the trip, then when we got back we moved into an apartment without internet, which made posting difficult, and then shortly after they installed the internet, I got hit by a car. I know, I know. All of these things are just excuses for not finishing this blog, but they did kind of get in the way. However, I’m now going to blog about the last part of our trip, which was Rome.

We arrived in Rome in the late morning. Like many cities before (specifically after Paris), I was worried that our hotel would be a disappointment. We had booked it before we left on the trip, and we learned so much while traveling that I wished we had waited. It was also within walking distance of the train station, which can sometimes be a mixed bag (to put it lightly).

In any case, we set out toward our hotel and I was surprised at how quickly we began to see ancient sites. I knew Rome was a historic city and we’d seen a lot of ancient things already, but to see old walls and ruins sticking out of modern-day pizzerias and clothing stores was very impressive.

When we arrived at our hotel and got our room, most of my anxiety about it disappeared. Our room was spacious and comfortable, and as we later found out, just up the street from the Forum, the Colosseum, and the other sites in that area. I was happy to see that Rome looked to be fairly walkable. Our hotel also sold us Roma Passes for the museums, and got us the nessecary reservations at the Borghese Gallery. It was great and I’d definitely recommend the hotel. It’s called Hotel Italia Roma.

After we checked in, we headed out into the town. We ended up going on something of a “fountain walk” as we somehow ended up visiting several famous fountains. One of those fountains was the Trevi Fountain, which like many people, I associate with the film La Dolce Vita. Unfortunately it was extremely crowded, but not without reason; with the water gushing out of all the stonework it’s really very impressive.

Next we went to the Triton Fountain, which despite being made by the famous sculptor Bernini, had almost no one around it. Of course, it’s not majestic like the Trevi Fountain, but we did stop to rest there for awhile. By this time it was also getting dark. We continued our walk to the Spanish Steps, and eventually ended up in the also sparsely populated Piazza del Popolo. It was a very pleasant walk.

On our second day in Rome we visited the major historical sites near our hotel. Using our museum pass we visited the Colosseum, the Forum, and Palatine Hill. My personal favorite of these was probably the Forum, which surprised me because it’s less grand than the Colosseum, but still fairly crowded. However, I think was enriched it was that we read about it (on the iPod touch) as we walked around. It was fascinating to see and learn about events that transpired throusands of years ago in the same places we were standing.

Once fascinating thing about these sites (and, we learned, Rome generally), is that the ground level has changed dramatically over the years. The Forum has been excavated down to it’s original levels, but it’s also sort of in a pit. That’s because after the fall of the Roman empire the city of Rome eventually fell into disrepair. Dirt and debris kept piling up until most of the sites were actually covered up. I supposed I would have expected this to happen, but I wouldn’t have expected the ground level to change by many meters. In the Forum there is a catholic church, for example, that is built on top of an ancient Roman building. From the sides it’s possible to see where the ground level has been and how that effected where different generations built. It was a dramatic demonstration of how, over the course of two thousand years, even the earth itself changes, swallowing up the past.

Lucca and Pisa

Between Florence and Rome we had one night unscheduled. After a couple days in Florence we decided to extend our stay by one night and do a day trip to some surrounding towns. (Luckily, Alessandra had room for us to stay an extra night).

Our first stop was Pisa. We took a morning train and before no time, were in the famous city. Like many visitors, I was surprised to discover how big Pisa was. Apparently it’s a college town, and like Florence straddles the Arno river. Unlike most of the people who got off the train with us, we decided to walk from the station to the leaning tower. It’s about a twenty minute walk and pleasant, though I wish we had allowed ourselves more time to really enjoy it.

After not very long we got to the leaning tower. We didn’t go up it (for financial reasons), but did eat a picnic on the grass nearby. It was also impressive to see the whole tower area, which also has a baptistery and cathedral. For some reason I had always imagined the tower in a grassy field by itself, but in fact it’s quite close to church.

Not long after we arrived in Pisa, we headed back to the train station. And while I liked the tower and adjacent buildings, I would actually be interested in coming back to the city to see other sites.

Next, we went to a town called Lucca. It’s not far from Pisa, and has huge renaissance walls. Apparently the the citizens of the town decided to build extra strong fortifications at one point, and they ended up making them so strong that no one bothered attacking for hundreds of years. Today, the thick walls are more like a park, and from on top it’s easy to think of them as just an elevated pedestrian and bike road. There are tall trees and cheap bike rental places (which we didn’t use because we had spent so much in Florence).

We strolled the old walls for a while, climbing on old crenelations and turrets, then ventured into the town. In many ways, it reminded me of Aosta; there weren’t a lot of tourists, but there were some interesting sites. We visited several old churches, and saw the city’s characteristic towers (including one with oak trees famously growing on top of it). Apparently, the Pope and the town bishop had some sort of rivalry going on at some point and they both built impressive churches. The Pope’s was designed to remind pilgrims that while Lucca was cool, the real objective was in Rome. Another interesting thing about the churches was that they were decorated hundreds of years ago by paintings by local artists, and those artists painted the city in the background. So while the images ostensibly depict standard religious fare, it was possible to watch the progression of the town in the paintings.

For the most part, however, we just wandered around Lucca. Because there were some people out, but not huge crowds, I’d say it was actually one of the more pleasant places we visited and, like Pisa, I’d be interested in coming back if only to take in more of the laid back atmosphere and historic vibe. At one point, we also found parts of the old medieval wall. Before the Renaissance, the city had an older, not-as-strong wall. I think they replaced it because it couldn’t with stand the new technology or something along those lines, but parts of the older wall still exist. Some were worked into the newer wall, but others have been appropriated for other uses (homes, stores, etc.) in town. (I think there is also an even older, Roman wall in the town).

As the sun began to get low, we decided to head back to Florence. We walked back to the train station, and then spent the evening strolling through the city, looking at the Ponte Vecchio, and eating gelato.

Florentine Museums: Worth it or not?

When we were in Rome, a woman at our hotel asked us if the museums in Florence were worth going to. I didn’t know what to say because I didn’t know anything about her tastes, but since then I’ve thought about it and here is the answer for me: The Academia (with the David) isn’t worth it, but the Uffizi probably is. What follows is a description of our experiences at those two places.

Florence is the birthplace of the renaissance, basically, so the main reason to go there is to check out the art and accomplishments of that time period. Accordingly, when Alessandra our hotelier got us reservations at the two biggest museums in town we were pretty excited, and on our second day in the city we set out to see some of the biggest, bad-est art works of western civilization.

Our first stop was the Academia, home to Michelangelo’s David. The lines at this place get pretty long, and so we were looking forward to using our reservations to bypass the wait. When we got to the museum, however, we were sad to discover that there was A) a long line even for reservation holders and, B) literally no organization. Basically, it was just a giant mob of people standing around a door. Everyone thought they were in the “right line,” but in reality there were six or seven blobs of people that were sort of like lines. It was disappointing. To top it off, it was raining, which I think made everyone a little aggravated (though I was glad that it wasn’t hot).

While I got in what seemed to be the most likely line-blob, Laura went to ask the museum workers by the door where we needed to be. While she was gone I met a college-aged guy and his mom, who were in line behind us. Before Laura got back I talked to the guy about the Tuscan tours they had been on. Though they loved the tours and felt that was the best option for them, comparing experiences made me glad that we were traveling independently.

After a few minutes, Laura got back and said that we were indeed in the correct spot. We waited around for about half an hour until we finally got to the front of the line. There, we showed our confirmation number and bought our tickets (14 euros, plus a 4 euro fee for reservations, if my memory serves me). (The American mom and son duo behind us didn’t get in. They thought they had purchased their tickets online a long time before, but the place they bought them from didn’t give them a physical ticket, a confirmation number, or anything else. They had also forgotten what time the tickets were supposed to get them in. They sort of reminded me of this one episode of Seinfeld, where George pretends he’s a tourist in New York to impress a woman. As he tries to date the woman he pretends to move to the city, but the woman warns him that the city will eat him alive. By the end, George is standing naked and jobless at a public phone, true to the woman’s predictions. Like George, the duo sadly seemed to be getting eaten alive by their travel experience.) One interesting thing about this whole ordeal was that they only people who seemed to know what was going on were the street vendors. Their helpfulness was much appreciated and made Laura and I reconsider our usual attitude of just brushing them off whenever they approached us.

Anyway, we got into the museum and immediately saw the Rape of the Sabine, a statue by Giambologna. It’s a cool and dramatic statue that I was glad we saw, until I realized (just now as I was writing this, actually) that the finished work is actually outside, and therefore free to see, near the Vecchio. Apparently the one in the Academia is the artist’s gesso for the finished product. In any case, the museum had some minimal information displayed, so at least we learned more about it. (The gesso, it’s worth noting, is also in much worse condition than the final piece outside.)

Next, we saw Michelangelo’s Prisoners. These are a series of unfinished sculptures depicting prisoners that appear to be muscling their way out of solid rock. They line the hall leading up to the David, and are quite impressive (though there are a couple of similar, but finished, Michelangelo scupltures in the Louvre). Following that, we saw the David. Like many people, I was impressed by the size and scale of the statue. Not being a sculptor myself, I’m not really qualified to comment on the workmanship, but the cultural clout that the piece enjoys definitely makes seeing the real thing impressive.

Once we had had a good look at the David, I was ready to move on to the rest of what I thought was going to be a large museum. To my surprise, however, there wasn’t much else. A couple of small rooms to either side of the David had some Renaissance paintings, and there was a room with some medeval art in it, but we had already seen so much of that kind of thing that it was kind of disappointing. (There was also a room with “special exhibit” that the museum uses to raise admission prices, but it was perhaps the most poorly curated exhibit I’ve ever seen.)

Soon we had left the Academia, and I was left wondering if we had just fallen victim to the Florentine version of a highway tourist trap. Between Laura and I, we had spent nearly 40 euros to get in. That was as much as we spent for everything, including food and lodging, on our cheaper days. If I was rich and didn’t care about money, I guess it wouldn’t have mattered, but seeing the David almost cost us as much as extending our trip by a day. If the museum had been as large and impressive as, say, the Louvre I wouldn’t complain, but it’s basically just a couple of rooms—in a building with an ugly exterior no less—designed to hold the David. Plus there is a full-sized replica of the statue outside the Vecchio, in the spot it originally stood. Ultimately, I’m glad I can say to people that I’ve seen the original, but as long as I’m a budget traveler, I can’t forsee any reason I would blow my budget like that again.

Following the Academia, I didn’t have high hopes of the Uffizi Gallery. This museum is supposed to be one of Europe’s greatest, and it has prices and lines comparable to the Academia. Luckily, however, our reservations got us past most of those lines this time, and pretty soon we were walking through was turned out to be a fairly extensive series of halls and chambers.

Inside the Uffizi we saw paintings by just about everyone from the Renaissance that I can think of. (That’s a bit of an exaggeration, but not much.) There was work by Leonardo da Vinci, Michelangelo, Botticelli, Titian, Rembrandt, and many many more. While the structure of the museum is rather mundane compared to those in London, Paris, Berlin, Prague, and elsewhere, the actual collection was well worth the time and money.

By the time we left the Uffizi Gallery we were pretty tired of museums (and crowds). We walked around some more, got some gelato, and just kind of hung out. While we did that I was again intrigued by the fact that Florence was one of my favorite cities to visit, but it’s top sites (which are what bring people, including us, into town) were among the more disappointing. Maybe that says something about me (perhaps I don’t value art enough), but in the end I’d rather wander the streets and sample the food than go broke seeing exorbitantly priced masterworks.

I’ve also noticed that while this is a relatively long post, I don’t have much to say about the art works themselves (or the experience of being in the museum generally). I think that’s because while hiking a trail in the Cinque Terre or floating through the Amazon can truly be transcendent experiences, it’s hard for a museum jam packed with agitated visitors to offer much more than bragging rights. Sure, I’ve now seen the Mona Lisa, the David, etc., but did seeing them really change me? Did it leave me contemplating anything? The answer is, unfortunately, not so much. In these major European museums it’s a constant fight to get close to the art works, and oblivious tour group are constantly bumping into everyone (and occasionally everything). Sometimes there are a plethora of rules, and if the price of admission is high I always became preoccupied about what I’d have to sacrifice to continue to have enough money (lunches and dinners were often what got cut out).

Anyway, I believe I love art and art museums, but the big famous ones were uniformly not the most rewarding experiences of the trip. In Florence that fact was glaringly true. I don’t regret having gone to them, but in doing so I was surprised to discover something I hadn’t previously realized about my own travel philosophy.

“Now I have no more ice cream”

Besides being the birthplace of the Renaissance, Florence supposedly has the best gelato anywhere. There are ice cream shops on every corner, and some of it is pretty amazing. (Though the chocolate gelato I had in Venice was still the best, and, for any gelato afficionados out there, I wasn’t any more impressed with the gelateria Grom than I was with random, neighborhood places.)

Anyway, with ice cream being so ubiquitous, it naturally follows that people are constantly eating it, which in turn caused one of the more salient images of our trip:

One night, as we were crossing the bridge on our way back to our room, we passed a young American family. There are a lot of American families in Florence, but this one caught our eye (or rather, our ear) because a little, three year old girl was sobbing and surrounded by her younger brother and parents. As we got closer we saw that she was holding an empty ice cream cone, while the scoop that had previously been perched atop it was now on the ground, slowly melting into the Arno river.

Just as we passed the family, we heard the girl lament, with all the woe she was capable of, “now I have no more ice cream.”

Everyone in the immediate area heard the girl. Of course, many probably didn’t speak English, but I’m sure they all understood because in half a dozen languages we heard people commenting on the tragedy of sheer chance robbing someone of life’s small pleasures.