Much To Admire

You can have a bit too much Art at times. I often find this the case when visiting major art galleries, and yesterday's trip to the Musei Vaticani and Sistine Chapel fell squarely into this category. Frankly if I never encounter any examples of Roman statuary again, I won't feel there's anything missing in my life.

Of course, it's impossible not to admire the technical artistry of it all. The marble almost comes to life. But, for this viewer, the problem lies in the 'almost'. It just doesn't live for me. Nearly all the sculptures impressed in the way they pointed to aspects of human experience, but they never really breathed - they just hinted at that remote (and disturbing) possibility.

In contrast, the modern stuff encountered immediately prior to the entrance to the Sistine Chapel blazed with life, when it wasn't just downright odd and puzzling. But, even then, I prefer to be puzzled than banged over the head with the kind of 'public' art that just states the obvious - that being, we're rich and powerful and we can embody who we very publicly are in these cold statues.

The ceiling of the Sistine Chapel was something else again, though. But difficult to genuinely take in with the crowd milling below and around and filling the sacred space with not-so-spiritual sound.

Must say, though, for all my reservations the visit felt like time well spent. It provoked thought. And it felt good to be in one of my fabled places.

In The Ruins

Maintained our impressive step count yesterday wandering around the Colosseum and the nearby Palatine Hill. Lots of photo opportunities for the Missus, who is becoming something of an expert on the selfie front. Me not so much.

Struck by the sense of how the ruins of Imperial Rome dominated the European imagination - the most interesting aspect of the Colosseum for me being how the fallen structure was made use of in mediaeval times and after. Perhaps those years served to exorcise the ghosts of those who suffered when it was initially constructed?

Imperial power came at a steep price. Sometimes ruins are worth celebrating in their own right.

Getting In Touch

We've done exceptionally well on the step-counting front over the last two days, averaging 15,000 a day. This has entailed getting up close and personal with the highways and byways of Rome, of which there are plenty. Favourite spot so far, the Spanish Steps - plenty of tourists around, of course, but still room to think of poor, doomed Keats there or thereabouts in his final feverish days. Least favourite spot by far, the Trevi Fountain. Just too many tourists, I'm afraid, which is ironic since we were there to add to the considerable number.

But we managed a cooling drink and excellent ice-cream at a nearby hostelry, so all was well in its way.

Seeing The Sights

We did the top deck of the tourist bus tour of the city thing yesterday, having successfully found our way into the centre of Rome. As with any major city, more than a bit overwhelming in addition to being completely fascinating. All very foreign in the best sense. Today we'll probably be zooming in on a couple of specific locations, but we're happily open to experience with no real plans other than to enjoy ourselves while we are able.

Adjusting

Now attempting to adjust to life in Rome. Having had a good night's sleep has helped considerably in this endeavour. Was awakened by some delightfully tuneful birdsong.

One thing somewhat out of tune: Don't think I've ever been in a city with quite this level of graffiti everywhere one looks.

On Arrival

Well we got here, which is usually a good thing when travelling. And 'here' is very comfortable indeed, which is always a good thing, whether travelling or not. So with coffee easily available and being all wifi-ed up it looks like we have a happy afternoon/evening on the way.

By the by, I managed to read Kazuo Ishiguro's A Pale View of Hills on the flight(s) over (we got here via Paris.) I strongly recommend reading everyone's favourite British-Japanese Nobel Laureate as superior in-flight entertainment. Loved his first novel, but clueless about the ending.

Ups And Downs

Definitely up: Finishing the mighty second and final volume of The Complete Poems of A. R. Ammons. Instantly wanted to go back and read some more, but it really is time to take a break from Archie's beguiling voice. Now thinking of what Collected I might have left to get to grips with next.

Definitely, indisputably doooowwn: The result from yesterday's final at Wembley. Puzzled how it turned out like it did after I'd worn my favourite Man U jerseys all week and my lucky socks on the Saturday itself.

Possibly down: Being incredibly busy today getting bits of marking out of the way and scrambling to get ready to set off for our evening flight to Rome.

Mind you, that last bit is quite an Up and compensates for all the rushing, no?

Not A Rant

On an evening when we discovered that one of favourite eateries - Prata Alley - is moving to a new location due to a hike in the rental being charged for their current premises, and the new location is somewhat off the beaten track for us, this coming after my realisation that I can no longer use the ATM for my main bank account since I was sent a new one which failed to 'activate' despite me following all the instructions about getting it to do so to the letter, and then forgetting to follow up on this with the bank directly due to being swamped by work, after being unable to establish contact on the telephone number I was given since it was unnavigable by ordinary human intelligence, I have manfully decided to forgo moaning about any of this.

After all, it's modern life, and, therefore, rubbish. (And we're talking first world problems here, guys.)

I'd rather remember the two fine teh tariks (gajah) I consumed in the midst of all the frustration and the surpassingly excellent late period poems by Archie Ammons I got to read prior to going out. 

Dining Out

Out again for a 'posh' dinner this evening. Two in a row constitutes some kind of record for me.

And, speaking of couples, fortunately it was just the two of us cozily at the table - eminently restful.

Ah No, The Years, Oh

Found myself at a dinner this evening  celebrating the 70th anniversary of a school in which I once taught. I sort of knew that I'd be reluctant to go to the dinner when I was first invited, simply because of the date. I suspected I would be extremely busy as June began, and I certainly was today, all the way to 5.00 pm. But I also suspected that once at the dinner I'd enjoy seeing some old friends and acquaintances - and that's the way it turned out.

By the way, the word 'old' is very distinctly the operative word above. When I first started teaching at the school in question I might reasonably have been described as a young man. When I completed my stint there that was no longer the case and it is even longer no longer the case now, if you see what I mean. So several of my conversations at the dinner revolved around the topic of dealing with the vicissitudes of aging. Curiously enough they were all distinctly cheerful in tone. 

Time may not exactly be our friend, but neither is it necessarily an enemy. I mean, without it how would anything ever happen? (Deep, eh?)