Part 1: In which the omens of travel and room and board portend misery

The trip to Rome hurt. It hurt because our flexi-rail passes were good for any train that we wanted to take from Venice to Rome, but not for particular seats on a particular train. The only flaw in the arrangements that Mrs. Sloucho had made--and the flaw was unforeseeable--was that Saturdays are very bad days for traveling from Venice to Rome. By bad I mean popular. And popular traveling days make for crowded trains. Mrs. Sloucho and I were obliged to stand for five and a half hours from Venice to Rome. Not only were all the seats taken, but there were so many people in the aisles that there was no way to rest oneself by taking a seat on the floor every now and then. It wasn't so bad for the first two and a half hours; but then nobody got off at Florence. And shortly we began to be in pain.

By the time we got to our hotel we were utterly sapped of our energy. It was everything we could do to walk to the restaurant next door. Then, instead of trying to do anything between our return at 9 and our repose at 10, we simply sat staring at our room and repeating that we were in a dump. The hotel room we had occupied in Venice was the finest hotel room I have ever occupied in my life--including those my parents have paid for. Our view of the Rialto had been staggering. The breakfast (complete with real grapefruit juice and real orange juice, along with chocolates and cheeses and pastries and a panoply of rolls) was the best part of our three mornings in Venice.

By contrast, the breakfast at the Hotel Varese in Rome (a breakfast comprised of a single hard roll and cold coffee with floating bits of an unidentifiable something) was not only on a par with the poor quality of our room, but a positive hindrance to our experience of Rome. Of six nights spent in the Varese, we only had breakfast three times. We usually didn't get our days in Rome started until after 9 a.m. because we knew that if we slept that late, we would be too late for our complimentary breakfast and would ever so fortunately be obliged to acquire it somewhere else. But when we rose before 9 we always proved parsimonious in spite of ourselves and "took advantage" of those hideous rolls and that terrible coffee--and regretted our mistake until noon.

Part 2: In which Sloucho, after having been exposed to Florence and Venice, finds his encounter with Rome to be a rather ho-hum sort of life-changing experience

Rome failed to catch hold of me in the way that Venice and Florence had. Perhaps our hotel had something to do with that. Perhaps it was because the Sistine Chapel was so crowded and we were drenched in a rainstorm when we tried to see the Roman Forum. Perhaps it is foolish not to be impressed by grandiose things simply because it is always so easy for something more grandiose to come along. "Why don't you try looking at what it is," Mrs. Sloucho asked me over and over, "instead of thinking about what is going to surpass it?"

But I couldn't see things her way because most of what I saw in Rome insisted on being evaluated as a challenge. St. Peter's Basilica and the Trevi Fountain and the Victor Emannuel monument couldn't speak about themselves without speaking about me; what they inevitably said was, "Can you do better than this?" My answer, of course, was, "Well, no. Not personally. But lots of people can--and will. Someone will build a larger place of worship, a more elaborate fountain, and a taller and better tasting wedding cake." I tried hard to see Rome as analogous to New York City; but primarily it reminded me of Washington, D.C., where everything is so huge and so superlatively dull.

The only monument that struck a responsive chord with me was the Pantheon, which is perfect the way it is and could only hurt itself by being grander. Oh, and I was intrigued by the skeletal ornamentation of the Cappuchin Monks.

The fora were extremely interesting, as was the Colisseum; the Piazza Navona was a fine place to get drunk (and a lousy place to pay for it); the sculpture of the Moses impressed Marn tremendously and got me into a lot of trouble (as I amused myself by answering the queries of a group of elderly tourists with the most outlandish responses that came into my head). But the best things in Rome are the things that are falling apart. Vatican City is almost offensively bombastic, as are the more modern monuments around the city. I'm not persuaded that the best way to make something more interesting is simply to make it bigger.

Part 3: In which Georgina Masson and her outdated Companion Guide to Rome conspire maliciously against the Slouchos

The single most disappointing thing about Rome, however, is an extensive but outdated guidebook by Georgina Masson. Masson was kind enough to send Mrs. Sloucho and me on a little walk down the Appian way that almost got us killed and arrested (in that order). We started at the disappointing catacombs of Calistes, where we were charged 6,000 lira per ticket for a monk-led tour that lasts some twenty minutes--the last five of which are spent in prayer. Although the tour itself only goes down to the second level of the catacombs, the guide never lets you forget that in olden times you could go to the fourth level.

We moved on to the tomb of Romulus and the circus of Maxensius followed by the tomb of Cecilia (all worthwhile stops), and then back up the Appian Way to the Appia Pignatelli. Thanks to the speedy traffic and the absence of shoulders on the road, walking Via Appia Pignatelli is the next best thing to suicide; so it was with infinite relief that we turned onto the road to Saint Urban's church, which was supposed to be an incredibly delightful place with a pathway to a genuine grotto. Perhaps it was delightful. We were too busy being chased off the private property that surrounds the church to say with certainty. We made the perilous journey back across the river of death that is Via Appia Pignatelli and proceeded back to Rome by bus.

Tiber Island, according to Masson, is one of the most delightful spots in all of Rome. So we walked all the way there from St. Peter's in order to soak up the delightfulness of the place and to see the Fabricio Bridge. Twain says that the Arno would be a river if the Florentines would pump some water into it. Apparently the Romans thought that he was talking about the Tiber, and took his advice. But the only water ready to hand seems to have been sewage, which made our walk around Tiber Island one of the most nauseating experiences of my life. I have never fled from a river with as much pleasure as I fled from the Tiber. And I have never bothered to hate an author as much as I hated Georgina Masson.

By the time we reached Rome, I guess I was actually jaded to what it feels like to come face-to-face with profoundly significant examples of art and architecture. I wanted to be more excited about the Colisseum and my first glimpse of an aqueduct in Rome itself. But one can only check off so many touristy boxes before one finds oneself all out of awe. My memories of Rome are far more pleasant than I believe the experience itself was. And I will say that however dismissive I may sound in this review, I wouldn't trade either the memories or the experience for anything. That Rome is an amazing city is an unquestionable statement of fact. But even more amazing than Rome is the job that Florence and Venice did of preparing me for it.

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{1}Because my trip to Italy was my first European experience, it seemed fitting to me to read Twain's hilarious Innocents Abroad as I traveled. I have modeled my reflections on Italy upon the Italian section of Twain's work, hence my enigmatic title.

This is the 5th part of a projected 6-part review. Parts 1 & 2 (concerning the vagaries of international flight and the pitfalls of guided tours) are forthcoming.

Part 3, concerning Florence, can be found here:
http://www.epinions.com/content_21853212292

Part 4, concerning Venice, can be found here:
http://www.epinions.com/content_21884407428

Part 6, concerning Naples, can be found here:
http://www.epinions.com/content_21902298756





Recommended: Yes

Best Suited For: Students
Best Time to Travel Here: Sep - Nov