The “Fall”, a “Fall” and making a “Splash” in Rome

They seem not to call autumn - “autumn” when they translate to English here but use the more Americanized “Fall”.  This even though “autonno” is the Italian name for this season twixt summer and winter, perhaps as a concession to visitors we hear “fall” here.

“Fall” is, after all, one of those English words that has a multiplicity of meanings in different contexts.  “Pride cometh before a fall”; “The fall of the Roman empire”; “She was a fallen woman”; “I had a bad fall”; “She will fall pregnant”; “He was the fall guy”; “The leaves will turn brown in the fall”. Any wonder we send English language students silly!

Italy does its seasons by the calendar rather than the month.  Australians tend to think of autumn as being March, April and May (if the world were upside down it would be September, October and November).  The solstices are critical in Italy, so the “autonno” begins on 22 September.

The scene of a full immersion

So, we are on the cusp of “fall”.

We have been in Rome, this time around, for just over twelve months (twice our previous “personal best”).  Today we farewelled our most recent Australian visitors (26th and 27th), so things are a bit lonely today.  Two other locals have “camped” in our apartment this year, rather than go home late at night, and another family of three Australians spent time with us but did not reside here.  I doubt that any have regretted their time in the eternal city, although a sense of humour has been a pre-requisite in some cases.

The Spanish Steps and the only available shade

Take for instance the sad story of our guest who travelled with her husband and the resident tour guide, “the bride”, to the Spanish Steps - Piazza di Spagna - famous for the house in which the poet Keats died of consumption and Babington’s Tea Rooms, the source of the fashionistas’ favourite, Via Condotti, and the home of a fountain that looks like a sunken ship - the latter designed by Bernini, the elder (Pietro) - the father of Bernini (Gian Lorenzo) who seems to have built most of the truly beautiful fountains in Rome. Perhaps it was a father and son effort.

Anyway, the Fontana della Barcaccia ("Fountain of the Old Boat") pours out what is reputed to be Rome’s sweetest water.  This was the fountain that Keats listened to whilst unwell and encouraged him to have his epitaph read “Here lies one whose name was writ in water” - deep!!!

Now this fountain has, at each end, a sort of island platform upon which one can carefully step forward to reach the spouts of water.  A little wet; a little slippery but legend has it (a new legend, established in September 2010), that the resident tour guide bravely stepped forth to fill her drink bottle - successfully.  But it seems that her guest also stepped forward and also crouched down to fill her bottle.  The tour guide, not recognizing this, stepped back triumphantly with full bottle and considerable momentum and the ensuing “bump” sent the guest face first into the pond below.

“Full immersion” they call it in baptismal terms, but in the middle of a thankfully warm day, in front of the madding crowds sitting on the Spanish Steps,  this was hardly a religious experience.

Famous graves in Protestant Cemetary

Our guest quickly recovered her composure and demanded of her husband - “I hope you got a photograph of that”.  Sadly, he didn’t, so I can’t show you a pictorial record of the fall but I do include an older picture of the fountain so you can get the idea.

Then there is the “fall from grace”.

Double parking is a Roman tradition - my guess is that they did it with their chariots.  But usually the double parkers show some restraint, at least to the passing traffic.  Not so good to those parked in perhaps, but they usually use the technique of sitting on their horns until the culprit appears and moves the car.

Double parking is not a feature of our little suburb.  Parking on zebra crossings and footpaths is, of course.  So imagine my surprise when aroused late yesterday morning by the loudest of horns repeatedly threatening to bring down our apartment’s walls.  When I looked out the bedroom window, here I saw a huge tour coach stuck on the street outside, and a small silver car double-parked blocking the road for anything larger than a car.

Now I put my keys here a little while ago ....

I thought “this I must get a photo of”, but when I returned with the camera, here was the culprit, desperately searching her handbag for her car keys.  It seems that the miscreant was a woman of the cloth - a good sister in full regalia.  This left the coach driver looking exasperated, the tour guide looking disbelievingly, and the passing pedestrian throng wondering what would be the penance for this fall from grace.

Caprarola

Villa Farnese

The Villa's garden

We have spent the last weeks continuing our explorations of the hill towns around Rome, including Caprarola replete with its spectacular Villa Farnese and gardens.

NZ Opera at Teatro Marcello

We were also guests of the New Zealand embassy to an opera recital held outdoors in the ruins of the Teatro Marcello.  This focused on the work of five opera students who had been brought to Italy to improve their Italian diction.  A great night and a unique experience.  Also interesting (and a little bit pleasing) was the fact that although a mild or closet opera buff for this past 40 years, this was the first time that I had listened to Italian opera and understood a significant amount of the lyrics.  Nowhere near all, but it was not just musical vocals but meanings.

Anyway, as the first trees look the tiniest bit brown, and as the summer heat gives way to cool mornings and moderate days, we include the following for your viewing pleasure.  The offending fountain - scene of the splash; the Spanish Steps on a hot day - me seeking out shade, others not; Keats' grave - Protestant Cemetery;  the double-parker; scenes of the Villa Farnese, Caprarola; the opera maestro at Teatro Marcello; and seeing Rome through beer glasses, or at least prosecco on our roof.

Prosecco'clock on our roof