As such, prior to the trip I prepared in earnest, and by "earnest" I mean "watched as many YouTube videos on Rome as possible" (albeit skipping the learn-Italian themed channels. What can I say? After cramming a dozen programming languages, four semesters of German, and sufficient Japanese to request a sword attack into my brain, the learn-new-language part is currently full-up. Tut mir leid).
Looking back now, I'd say the advice proffered by Wolters [sic] World et al. is great for normals, but long-time LabKitty readers know LabKitty is well outside the Venn diagram of normal and I suspect you are too, being a long-time LabKitty reader. So below I've collected some tips for our kind -- pointers designed to help the bookish prepare for the horrors of airline travel and the illogic of the Italian mindset. Something to help you navigate a maze of disgruntled customs wonks, Flavian street hustlers, and gelato headaches, and this in a setting that robs you of your primary defense mechanism (charming verbal wiseassery). Keeping you sane when every nanofibre of your being starts screaming to be home reading the latest issue of Nature in your jammies.
In that spirit, I give you: LabKitty's Nerd Tips for Rome.
Si tu linquis ei vincunt!
Getting There
- The flight is nine hours (from the US) give or take. Inbound flights leave in the evening (local East Coast time) and arrive the next morning (Rome time). Start shifting your Circadian cycle the week before so you can sleep on the plane. Bonus tip: You know those ridiculous looking plane pillows that go around your neck? That's the only way you're going to sleep in coach. Consider buying one. Finally, the best option for blocking out cabin noise isn't earplugs, it's a white noise app. Put one on your phone. These days, most (all?) longhaul airplanes have a USB port in the seat in case you need power.
- Self-service check-in isn't necessarily a time saver. I arrived at the airport to find a long line at check-in so I went to one of the many open self-service kiosks. The process is straightforward (scan your passport and follow the instructions). The problem was I now had to go stand in the self-service check-in baggage-drop line to drop my bag. That line was longer than the regular check-in line. Checkmate airline.
- TSA procedures are different in different airports (and even at different locations in the same airport). The baseline is: take any electronics out of your bag and send them (and your bag) through the scanner in a plastic bin. The two common variants are either: 1) take metal out of pockets in preparation for going through a metal detector or 2) take *everything* out of your pockets in preparation for going through a body scanner. In some places (ATL), the procedure was instead put *everything* into your carry on, which then went through the machine. Also, some places make you take off your shoes and some don't. Go figure.
- In some airports, you will have to go through security a second time even if you are just changing to a connecting flight. You may also have to pick up your baggage and carry it to your connecting flight, even though the airport ostensibly has people on the payroll who are supposed to do that sort of thing. Note this does NOT require walking all the way back to the main check-in desk -- look for "baggage transfer" signs around your arrival gate or ask a surly airport employee.
- Although there are ATM all over Rome (le "Bankomat"), it's helpful to change your cash (into Euros) at your airport of egress. Be aware that every time you take out or exchange money, you will be gouged. Taking out larger amounts less frequently rather than small amounts more often helps avoid some of these fees. PS: Be sure to tell your bank (and credit card company) you will be in Rome before you go, otherwise their scambots might decline the transaction when you try to use your card.
- Bonus tip: Whereas ATM in the US read the magnetic stripe on the back of your card, European machines read the chip on the front. If you didn't remove the dial-this-number-to-activate sticker on the front, your card will work fine in the US and mysteriously not work in Rome. Don't ask how I know this.
- BTW, the smallest Euro paper bill is a fiver. Smaller denominations (one and two Euros, and change) are coins. I only mention this because the airport money changers won't take the coins, and a pocketful of one and two Euros can add up to a rather pricey keepsake sitting in a jar when you get home.
Rome Airport (presumably Fiumicino)
- When you reach the customs queue, you will encounter a terrifying woman in a customs uniform repeatedly shrieking something that sounds like enny open na page-ah. Allow me to translate: In order to expedite your interaction with the customs official, please have your passport opened to an unused page so that it can be stamped quickly upon approval. Viola.
- Speaking of customs, heutzutage you pass through a face scanner in addition to getting your passport inspected. Some airlines are now using them, which I find off-putting. I can't fight the government, but why does an airline need face recognition tech? They already have my name, address, phone number, social security number, credit card information, and an image of my passport. What's next? A blood sample?
- There's places at the airport that will tweak your phone to play nice with Italian cell towers (e.g., Vodafone). I don't use my phone much so I figured I could live with hotel Wifi primarily and (expensive) roaming occasionally. However, for reasons beyond my comprehension, Google Maps doesn't work with roaming. It won't provide directions or information even if you downloaded the maps to use offline (BTW, download a Google map of Rome before you go to use offline) and it will either not be able to locate you or occasionally it will indicate your location at the wrong place. This can be borderline dangerous. Ergo, you should really arrange for a robust phone plan, be it from the airport kiosks (which, granted, seem scammy) or simply talking to your provider before you go.
- Bonus phone tip: Put important phone numbers (hotel, airline(s), bank, state department, etc) in your phone before going. Yes, I sound like your mom, but It was nice to reach my bank with one button press when my ATM card stopped working. It's also good to try out European dialing after you arrive (think up an excuse to call your hotel) so you aren't debating where the "+" goes or whether your phone wants "0" or "(0)" in a crunch.
- The train from Fiumicino airport to Rome (the Leonardo Express) is reasonably pleasant (albeit not air conditioned). You buy a ticket at machines in the airport. FYI: When I tried to pay with a credit card, the machine asked for a non-existent PIN (lesson: be prepared to pay in cash). You scan the ticket to get through the gates leading to the platform, then you must validate the ticket before boarding. There are validating machines on the platform with two slots on the front. One is exactly the size of the ticket -- you use the other one. Note the train police will check that your ticket is validated on the train, and they will boot you off if it isn't.
Rome: Getting Your Bearings
- The Tiber runs approximately north/south through the city (it flows southward), dividing tourist Rome into two parts: the Vatican to the West and everything else (Pantheon, Colosseum, Cat Sanctuary) to the East. This can be useful for finding your way around when Google Maps invariably craps out. East is the direction the sun rises and West is the direction the sun sets, even here. If you find yourself trapped somewhere in a maze of twisty little passages all alike, a shadow can lead you back to civilization, assuming you know what side of the river you're on and the time of day.
- The bridges aren't identified with signs as far as I could tell, so it's best to know them by sight. Fortunately, they all look different. Be aware Google Maps will randomly omit some of them depending on zoom.
- Footnote: I'm not sure what lives in the Tiber but it's mean enough to drag a seagull beneath the waves.
- There's a nice bike/jogging path that runs along the river, save for the constant graffiti and occasional garbage and homeless. There are no railings, warning signs, or lifeguards. Fall in, and nobody will come looking for you. Come to think of it, there's also smoking in restaurants, the trucks don't beep when they back up, and there isn't a constant dweedle of car alarm Type I errors. For all of our Rugged Individualism hoopla, we Americans really are a bunch of toddlers living in a nerfed world.
Walking Around
- Sidewalks in Rome vary from narrow to nonexistent. This often makes Google Maps useless. It once sent me down Corso di Francia when the sidewalk turned into two lanes of oncoming traffic. Yes, technically I could continue on foot. Thanks, Google.
- Speaking of traffic, Rome has the transportation system equivalent of a rugby scrum. There's one to three lanes of cars traveling any given street, and between the official lanes are ad hoc paths for motorcycles (which can be anything from a Vespa to a Harley). The speed limit is: get-out-of-my-way. I suspect it seems more chaotic to a tourist than it really is. On the other hand, I couldn't help but notice the constant wailing of ambulance sirens around town. They can't all be going to pick up a tourist who popped a coronary climbing the Spanish Steps.
- By law (or at least by mos maiorum), crosswalks are pedestrian holy ground. Still, I found it was best to let any waiting women and children go first and only risk crossing if/when they brought traffic to a halt. Alternatively, you may want to skip intersections altogether and walk a bit up the street and simply wait for a break in traffic. At least then danger approaches from fewer directions.
- The Romans have a rather relaxed attitude in re street signs. Perhaps this is a reflection of their national character or perhaps signage is simply impossible in such a place. Streets change name mid-block without warning; I think they even change names depending on day or weather. Anyway, the street signs, when you can find them, are displayed on the buildings, not on a post at the street corner. Note "ponte" means bridge, and "via," "corso," and "lungotevere" all translate (approximately) as "street" (the last refers to a street running alongside the Tiber). Many are named after people (e.g., Ponte Giuseppe Mazzini or Via Goffredo Mameli).
- There is Uber in Rome, but everyone I talked to steered me away from it. The city is small so taxis aren't theoretically expensive, but traffic is horrific so prepare to frequently go nowhere while the meter accumulates. Drivers also get grumpy if you ask for a receipt. Walking is almost always the better option.
General City Impressions
- There is graffiti spray painted on just about every building, bistro, and bridge abutment in Rome. I cannot say with certainty, but my read was this is not an indication of a bad neighborhood. In the States, tagging is a reasonable predictor of incipient rape, robbery, or murder. In Rome, it's just something they do. Another gift of the ghetto culture America exports. I suspect removing it is out of the question; the city government can't even seem to get a handle on regular trash pick-up.
- There are beggars everywhere. Sources tell you to be wary of them -- Rome is infamous for scam artists and pickpockets -- but most felt genuine to me. YMMV.
- There are drinking fountains everywhere (the short black ones that run continuously; not the fancy ones with sculptures in them). All the guides say the water is safe to drink. The locals do but, alas, I didn't risk it. In a place where the manhole covers are still stamped SPQR, I couldn't help shake the feeling that sampling the aqueduct required a kind of built-up immunity, like Cortez and smallpox.
- The locals tend to dress-up when out and about, and tourists tend to abide I guess because osmosis. Indeed, there is much brow furrowing regarding Proper Attire when visiting Rome. Generally speaking: no shorts, no baseball caps, no running shoes. Whatever. My experience was I was treated the same no matter how I dressed. In fact, there's a simple rule for how you will be treated: If you have breasts, the locals will fall all over themselves to help you. If you don't, they won't. I'm not saying be rude, but if it's 100 degrees outside, don't apologize for wearing shorts.
Language Barrier
- English is sufficient to function in hotels and touristy places. However, that bubble is surprisingly small. Just a block from my hotel, and even at the train station and in taxis, English was a nonstarter. I don't mean this in a why don't the furrierners speak English kind of way. Rather, I mean be prepared to welcome a little advenure. The locals were usually friendly (including the owner of a gelato shop who described as best he could every single flavor and also his honeymoon in San Franciso). Although sometimes their good intentions fall short, such as when a cafe owner tried reading the menu to me, missing the central point that my not reading Italian and not speaking it fall under the same umbrella of not understanding Italian.
- My only true failed interaction was with the traffic cops, who communicate entirely by police whistle and frantic hand gestures. Yes, ma'am, I am more than happy to comply with your instructions, however I DON'T SPEAK WHISTLE.
- By the way, nobody in Rome speaks Latin. I blame Vatican II.
Food
- Rome has the best food in the world, or so I was told. I don't doubt that's true, but I failed to experience it. My hotel had a nice restaurant attached. I tried the buffet -- what better way to sample a variety of Italian delicacies? Alas, everything was room temperature. You don't know irony until you are reading your Lonely Planet guide gushing about the food in Rome while choking down lukewarm eggplant. Day two found me venturing out to a local cafe. I smiled and pointed at something random on the menu (see Language Barrier) only to receive linguine with mussels. The mussels were also suspiciously room temperature. Sure enough, I was sick the next day. Apparently, reliable Italian food will have to wait until the Germ Theory of Disease penetrates the national consciousness.
- The coffee, however, was amazing (it was also hot). And I don't mean the fancy stuff like espresso and cappuccino, but the straight up, pour-and-drink stuff. I don't know how they do it. Something in the water perhaps? Hopefully, that water did not come from the Tiber.
- Regular (i.e., non-mineral) water is called "still." Specify this when you ask for water otherwise you'll get the bubbly kind.
Seeing the Sights
- Most of the museums charge 10-15 Euros. Not meant as a complaint -- I'm just pointing this out because many museums elsewhere (e.g., London) are free. However, the real problem isn't the cost, it's the lines. Buy tickets on-line for the big attractions (e.g., Colosseum, Vatican museums) to avoid long waits.
- Personally, I gravitated toward the lesser-known places (Lonely Planet has a nice listing). I went to the Galleria Doria Pamphilj one afternoon and almost had the whole place to myself. Meanwhile, a few blocks away, they're packed shoulder-to-shoulder (and sunburnt) at the Colosseum.
- If you are like me, and why wouldn't you be, you probably know there is a cat sanctuary in Rome (by tradition all cats are sacrosanct in the city, but I suspect they're more sacrosanct in some places than in others). This is the famous Feral Feline Colonies Torre Argentina. It's part of a small archeological dig across from (the also famous) Azienda Tessile Romana. The truly feral live outside amongst the ruins -- be prepared to get cat-mobbed as you walk through (the cats know tourists leave food even though the signs say don't). There is a small clinic at the south end that provides housing and veterinary care for the rest. You can go in and pet the kitties roaming the place, make a donation, buy a souvenir, or even sponsor a stray.
- There are open-air used bookstores all over Rome. The books are in Italian, of course (I found a copy of Hawking's Brief History of Time) but we must pause and applaud the concept. Open-air used bookstores.
- There is a video game museum somewhere in Rome. I won't tell you where it is because YOU'RE IN FREAKIN' ROME. Don't be a nerd.
The Vatican
- There is a dress code to get into St. Peters (not kidding). No shorts or bare midriffs or other slutware. It's free to enter (although there is a fee to see the dome -- ditto for the Vatican museums) and well worth the trip, regardless of your belief structure. Be advised going to St. Peters will make every other church (and museum) you ever see pale in comparison. Alas, the place also brings out the worst in tourist ugliness. I saw two nuns standing in front of the baldacchino get shouldered aside by some fathead taking a selfie. Also, there's a continual sea of raised cellphones in front of the Pietà (contrary to most descriptions, the sculpture isn't "at" the entrance; there's a roped-off chapel to the right of the entrance and the Pietà stands at the far end). I'm as heathen as they come and I must admit all this made me a little queasy. FFS, it's the Vatican. Show a little respect.
- Archer notwithstanding, the Swiss guards still carry halberds, although I didn't check under their outfits for a slung MP5. Indeed, the heavy lifting for security is provided by the Italian army, with checkpoints dotting the city manned by swarthy bucks sporting a red beret and an ARX hanging from a harness. I can't help but wonder what transgression a soldier must commit to be assigned a post standing in the broiling sun shouting at idiot tourists all day. You there! No climbing on the architectural treasures!
Return
- An "airport taxi" is different than an ordinary taxi. At my hotel it required a reservation the day before (I took the train in but I splurged on the way back) and it was a black Mercedes with tinted windows and a driver wearing an Armani suit. I have no idea why.
Sitting in the back I looked like an important person. The driver, of course, knew better.
No comments:
Post a Comment