9/11/16,
“Rome 1960”
Rome, Italy
We all
remember what we were doing 15 years ago when we learned the news that would
forever change our lives. We will never
forget that day, nor the lessons we learned.
It is not my intention to politicize that point or dwell on it more than
is appropriate to show the proper respect to this day. To that end, I will observe a moment of
silence before continuing to pay proper homage to the lives we lost on that
day.
Now to
continue, I would like to draw back to this day in history 56 years ago, to
Rome 1960. On 9/11/60, in this very
Stadium, the Games of the XVII Olympiad came to a close. It was a Games that saw one of the most
famous Olympic medalists of all time win Gold, a boxer by the name of Cassius
Clay, who would later become known to the world as Muhammed Ali. On 9/10/16, an Ethiopian marathoner would
make history by becoming the first black African to win a Gold medal. He would establish a long string of dominance
in that event by the Ethiopians and Kenyans.
He won the race without wearing shoes.
Like the other 23 Stadiums I have visited, this Stadium is practically
dripping with history. I only have 3
more left in my quest. In November, I
will at last visit the London 2012 Stadium.
Then, in December, I will close out my quest in Australia by visiting
the Melbourne 1956 and Sydney 2000 Stadiums.
My true obsession with the Olympics began during the Sydney Games, so it
will be the perfect place to close out my quest. I have so many great memories from the Games
and many equally great memories from the times I have set foot inside the
Stadiums, but I will definitely be glad to close out the quest in about 10
weeks. I received a complaint about my
cigar, so I will relocate to finish it while I continue to write.
It looks
like more dark skies are coming, and I will probably leave the Stadium as soon
as I finish this entry. In fact, I hope
to leave before the second half, as I am seriously worried about my water
bottle, and, frankly, I don’t care about this match in the slightest. After I closed last night, I had a devil of
time falling asleep, tossing and turning until around 3 AM. It was close to 10 AM when I finally woke up,
too late for breakfast at the hotel and not having an appetite for it
anyway. I would be visiting the two
World Heritage Sites in Tivoli before I came here, so I timed it as tight as I
could to allow myself a proper visit to those two sites and still get to the
Stadium by the time the match began at 3 PM.
Recalling a scene from “The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly”, I decided to
do what Clint Eastwood did and had a Toscano cigar in the bathtub.
Yep, it’s raining now. Definitely raining. This is annoying. I just want to get out of here now. I am surrounded by diehard soccer fans, and I
don’t even care about this match. All I
care about is taking my picture inside the Olympic Stadium and writing this
entry. I needed some espresso, but it
was actually also starting to get to lunchtime.
However, in Rome, lunch doesn’t start until noon, and that was too
late. I needed to be on the way to
Tivoli by noon.
Yep, that’s
thunder. I hope this match doesn’t get
called off before I finish writing this entry.
I went to the place where I got my gelato last night and sat outside,
still smoking my Toscano. I saw
lightning. This match really might get
called off. I ordered an espresso,
followed by a cappuccino. I still had
not had a proper meal since my dinner last night. After my cigar and drinks, I got a taxi that
could take me to Tivoli. I didn’t want
to worry about the train or bus. He got
confused and took me to Villa Adriana, though I had asked him to take me to
Villa d’Este.
He had no idea where Villa
d’Este was, but it turned out he needed to drop me off in the main square, then
I could walk to Villa d’Este. I would be
visiting both famous, historic villas, but I wanted to save Hadrian’s for
last. I paid the admission for Ville d’Este
and asked about the inscription photo.
Crap, now my computer is getting wet, too. This is as bad as yesterday. I need to relocate again.
Okay, so I
seem to be sheltered but the view of the Stadium is not quite is good now. Anyway, Ville d’Este proved to be a veritable
maze, and I knew where the inscription photo was taken but not quite how to get
there. As I walked around, I admired the
rooms of the villa, lots of priceless artwork on the walls and beautiful
furnishings.
I then figured out how to
get to the inscription photo spot, but it was a huge expanse, and I would have
to walk down (and later up) a lot of steps and ramps. That did not look fun. Crap, the rain keeps getting worse, and I am
no longer sheltered at all. I’m just
going to wrap this up as quickly as possible.
I found the inscription spot and soon took my ceremonial pictures, after
waiting for a family to finish taking their pictures. I had lit up a Montecristo for the occasion,
and it came with me as I left, stopping for souvenirs on the way out. Okay, I can’t risk any damage to my
computer. I need to get out of here.
I have moved
up too far too keep smoking, and it is now halftime, but I am finally fully
sheltered from the rain. Actually, they
might have just suspended play during stoppage time. I’m not sure.
Either way, I just want to wrap this up so that I can get back to my
hotel. Nope, no good. I’m going to have to close for now.
Okay, the
hailstorm, yes, it was hail, seems to have abated, but not before I left the
Stadium. I have now found myself besides
the Olympic Equestrian venue outside the Stadium, which, like the Stadium and
the surrounding streets, was completely flooded. Even the sidewalks were in water up to my
ankles. I am relatively protected from the
remaining drizzles here, but I will still need to be as quick as possible.
Alright, so I found a taxi that would take me
to Adrian’s Villa and, in turn, Rome. He
quoted a fair enough price and said he would wait for me or, rather, pick me up
when I was done. He left me at Hadrian’s
Villa, and I told him to meet me at 2:15 PM. This was impressive. It was an assortment of Egyptian, Greek, and
Roman architecture, built in the 2nd Century by Hadrian, the same
guy who built the Wall in Northern Britain.
I still had my Montecristo, so I lit that up and made my way to the spot
of the inscription photo, taking my ceremonial picture there. I immediately turned around and made my way
back finding my driver waiting for me with a different vehicle. I got my souvenir, and he took me straight to
the Olympic Stadium.
I was so happy to
see all the Olympic rings everywhere. It
hit me that I would only have three more to go (London 2012, Melbourne 1956,
and Sydney 2000) after this. That was
when the drama began. It was 2:45 PM,
and the match did not begin until 3 PM, not that I cared about seeing the
beginning of the match. The ticket was
just an entry ticket to the Stadium, as far I was concerned. However, I had gone the south entrance, and I
needed to go into the main entrance. It
was quite a process to circumnavigate the Stadium, but, eventually, I got
there.
They searched me and pointed to
my water bottle. I had done my
research. The Stadium rules said no
beverages in plastic bottles. I took a
sip and ceremonial picture and emptied my bottle. No, they explained, I could not bring the
bottle in the Stadium. Wait,
what?!? They told me I needed to leave
it in their security station, but that they could not watch it, though they
assured me no one would touch it.
Crap. Gone was my plan to watch
the whole match. I would just walk in,
take my ceremonial picture, write my entry, and leave by halftime. It seemed a simple plan. No, of course not. More drama ensued.
First, I got a beer and a hot dog, and then I
headed inside to take my ceremonial picture with the beer in lieu of the water
bottle. So far, so good. I sat down in spot with a great view of the
field and noticed that people in front of me were smoking. Beautiful.
I lit up an Hoyo de Monterrey and proceeded to write this entry. As I conveyed in the beginning of this
entry, I wound up having to write that entry from four different spots before I
finally left.
First, the guy behind me
said the cigar was too stinky, not that he was complaining about the
cigarettes. Then, I moved to the side,
where I would not be disturbed and could even stay as people got up at
halftime. Then, the rain began, so I
moved up a bit. The rain got worse, so I
moved further up, too far up to keep smoking
Then, my laptop got hit by a piece of hail, and play had stopped anyway,
so I called it. Everyone was getting out
of the stands, and I waited by the exit, finishing my cigar, until the hail
abated.
Once it was relatively good, I
left, thankful for my ACG sandals, which were more than a match for the flooded
streets and sidewalks. I retrieved my
water bottle, and the rain had almost stopped.
I then looped around to the main entrance, which was right by the
equestrian venue, of course suspended by the rain. I found a spot in view of the Olympic
Stadium, where I proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close so that
I can get back to the hotel and, hopefully, have time to walk around the
Colosseum before dinner.
Well, all in
all, today has been a rather stressful day.
I suppose there is some irony to that, especially given that
intentionally underplanned this trip to make it less stressful, so that I wasn’t
racing from place, so that I would actually have time to enjoy my time
here. I have the utmost faith that I could
have included both Tuscany and Campania in this trip if I had wanted to. Instead, I chose to opt for just Tuscany,
which gave me an extra day in Rome. That
is why it is so ironic that these past two days have become so stressful, but,
if I was racing to place to place, it could have been a lot more
stressful. As it was, I had time to do
everything I wanted to do, and I felt that I spent sufficient time at every
place.
After I closed, the rain had
finally stopped, and I made my way to the plaza where I was told I could find
taxis. Eventually, I found one. He took me back to my hotel, and I dropped
off my bag, being told yesterday that bags were not allowed inside the
Colosseum. I also knew that water was
not allowed in but that water bottles were, though I had thought the same about
the Olympic Stadium. I only had a few
sips of water left, anyway, just enough to take a couple of ceremonial
pictures.
The sign at the entrance
clearly said that no liquids were allowed inside, only empty water
bottles. However, there was nothing to
be said about bags. It also clearly said
no smoking. Ideally, I would have, at
some point, written an entry inside the Colosseum while I smoked a cigar, but
the ban on bags and smoking would have precluded that. My ticket from yesterday was still good, and I
made my way through the stairs to the viewing area. There was a bookshop that sold replicas of
the Colosseum, the exact same replicas sold by the street vendors, only these
were almost six times the price. It was
inside the Colosseum, so I couldn’t resist buying one for myself.
I was finally in the viewing area. As overwhelmed as I was by the view from
outside yesterday, I was underwhelmed by the view from inside. It was so disappointing that I could have
cried. This was not what I
expected. There were no seats to be
seen, all of them having been eroded over the millennia. Even the pitch was gone, leaving the tunnels
beneath exposed to view. What was
this? It was a skeleton of what I
thought it would be. I tried to imagine
the gladiators at their posts, but it was not to be.
Unlike the many Olympic Stadiums I had
visited, such as in Stockholm where I could imagine Jim Thorpe being told by
King Gustav that he was the “greatest athlete in the world” or in Paris where I
could hear Chariots of Fire playing in my head, this provided no such
images. That is not to say I felt
nothing. I knew that this building was the
center of sports and entertainment for the Roman Empire. I knew the history that once occurred here,
but I just couldn’t see it in my head. I
took my ceremonial pictures and would later discover that there actually was a
smoking area in view of the inside of the arena, but I was ready to go.
I headed back to the hotel and charged my
phone a bit while I retrieved my bag. I
had pizza yesterday, tonight we would be pasta, and I had already picked out
the restaurant across the street from yesterday’s restaurant. I also wanted to get a Sunday paper, so I
went to the “tabacchi.” There, I got
some more varieties of Toscano cigars but learned that they don’t stock Sunday
papers past a certain time. It was past
that time. I went to the restaurant for
dinner, and I was told that only cigarette smoking was allowed, not cigar
smoking. That was annoying.
I considered going back to my restaurant for
yesterday, where I knew I’d be allowed to smoke my Toscano, but I wanted to try
some place new. I sat down and ordered
my dinner, spaghetti alla carbonara, a glass of Chianti, and a large bottle of
sparkling San Pellegrino. It was all
quite good. The pasta wasn’t like the
pizza last night, merely being decent instead of amazing, but I was eating my
favorite pasta dish, in Rome. It couldn’t
be that bad.
After my meal, I lit up a
Toscanco Antico and went in search of the newspaper. My reader should understand that one of the
things I try to collect from a new city is a copy of their Sunday paper for
wherever I am during a Sunday. I have
been woefully bad at it over the past few trips, but I didn’t want to miss it
this time. Of course, I forgot in the
morning, and now it was looking too late.
I tried a bunch of other tabacchi shops and was told the same thing each
time. I made my way back to the hotel
with my Toscano and asked at the front desk.
They didn’t have it either. If I
had asked at the tabacchi shop before heading to Tivoli, they would have had
it. I screwed up.
I went up to my room and checked in with a
few people before having a video chat with my family, my brother still being
with them in Westchester. After that, I
did some research on the Vatican and the Holy See, trying more than anything to
figure out what the appropriate dateline would be for the entry for tomorrow’s
entry. It is considered a separate
country from Italy, and the Vatican City is a distinct geographical area from
Rome, but I couldn’t quite figure out if “Vatican City, Holy See” is the
appropriate dateline in the format of “Rome, Italy”.
The Holy See is technically the religious
organization that oversees the Diocese of Rome.
The Vatican City State is the political body that governs the Vatican
City, where the Pope is located.
However, diplomatic relations are maintained with the Holy See on behalf
of the Vatican City State, and that is how it is listed on the World Heritage
City list, which, in turn, reflects the Holy See being a non-member observer
state of the United Nations, despite the Vatican City State being more properly
the name of the state. It was all so
confusing. In the end, I suppose writing
“Vatican City, Holy See” looks better than writing “Vatican City, Vatican City
State” or even just “Vatican City”.
Anyway, for tonight’s pipe, a chose a Damiano Rovera Collection pipe,
this one being carved by the son of the Rovera who carved my pipe from last
night. It has the same “ITALY FATTA A
MANO” stamp, and the grain is just as straight.
It is probably one of the best pipes Damiano has ever made, but, as I
explained last night, this is a freeform pipe, having an irregular shape,
unlike the Ardor I smoked last night. I
sat in my chair by the window, lit up the pipe, and proceeded to write this
entry, which I will now close so that I can publish as I finish my pipe and
then maybe get some gelato before I try to figure out a way to watch the US Open
final, which just started. Tomorrow should
be a more relaxed and fun day than these past two.
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