The Colosseum

The Colosseum
Originally uploaded by riceysu

We have a housing angel, so it seems. The Colosseum and other magnificent parts of ancient Rome was within walking distance from our hotel. My first full day in Rome couldn't get any better. How does one top a view like this? I had to remind myself this actually existed several thousand years ago and they are still here. My Italian friends, Freddy and Andrea, reminded me over a dinner of pasta Grecia and red wine, that this is not Disneyland, and that the ancient Romans walked the same streets that I did. If the cobblestone steps could speak, indeed, what fascinating stories they could tell.

The lines going inside the triumvirate of the Colosseum, the Roman Forum and Palatine hill, was manageable but our Roma pass made it very easy to enter and to have more time scouring the area inside rather than staying in line to buy an admission ticket. Due to our eagerness to cover as much of historic Rome that we can, my feet were crying out in pain by early afternoon. It did not help that I wore boots in walking around Amsterdam the day earlier. But that's another story.

A room with a view

DSC_0382
Originally uploaded by riceysu

Our b&b in Florence, reserved with much haste, turned out to be a godsend in terms of location. Here is a view from our terrace. We were met by Alessandro, a warm and friendly Italian, at around 9pm two days ago. We came by train from Assisi, where we had our fill of winding steps, hilly walks, and churches....lots of them - the two most important of course being that of St. Francis and St. Clare. To satisfy our morbid curiosity, we went to the tombs of both saints.

Florence so far is more than what I expected. Artwork galore and lots of pleasant sights to behold. Awestruck would be a pretty accurate word. Tomorrow we are off to San Gimignano, a 13th century Manhattan according to the guidebooks. And I will have to figure out a better way of posting my updates.

Basilica de Santa Maria Fiore a.k.a. The Duomo

Basilica de Santa Maria Fiore a.k.a. The Duomo
Originally uploaded by riceysu

A view of the Duomo, a few steps away from our b&b.

Flying off to Rome

(image copyright: www.voneurope.com)

I fly to the second city off my bucket list, the Eternal City, Rome, later this afternoon. As always, I manage to come up with a distraction. An eight-hour layover at Amsterdam to have lunch with my Israeli friend, Itamar. He promised to tour me around and have a beer (!) with me before bringing me back to the airport by three in the afternoon. For the next twelve days, I shall blog on my European adventures, hence the title change.

It is not without sadness that I leave Cambridge for a bit. But this vacation will be over before I realize it. At the moment, I have this Oscar Wilde poem, 'Rome Unvisited' to depict my anxiety and anticipation of setting foot in this historic place.

The corn has turned from grey to red,
Since first my spirit wandered forth
From the drear cities of the north,
And to Italia's mountains fled.

And here I set my face towards home,
For all my pilgrimage is done,
Although, methinks, yon blood-red sun
Marshals the way to Holy Rome.

O Blessed Lady, who dost hold
Upon the seven hills thy reign!
O Mother without blot or stain,
Crowned with bright crowns of triple gold!

O Roma, Roma, at thy feet
I lay this barren gift of song!
For, ah! the way is steep and long
That leads unto thy sacred street.

Irony

While we aim for the moon, we keep gazing at the stars.

The Moments Between

Moments in between are the moments we live for. It is not always obvious. But its very subtleness make it all the more precious.

Inches away from that hot cup of the coffee in the morning, just before the warm aromatic liquid glides down your throat. The interval is sublime, the moment the tip of the cup touches your lips priceless. It welcomes the day, creates expectations and tells you things can be okay, if you want them to. When things don’t go our way, we seek sanctuary in these moments too. We preserve them for as long as we can.

An expatriate seconds away from landing on his native soil, carries a heart heavy with a feeling that alternates between dread and promise. He wonders if he will find a warm welcome and if he can fathom the many changes that have taken place since he left. He stares out the small window, looking at the miniature houses that dot the landscape, and fiddles nervously with a pen. 

Moments in between are always full of hope.

My life right now is one such moment. After childhood but before marriage and family, after one degree but before another, before a dissertation – all potentialities. I wait with bated breath. But I continue playing anyways. Every inch of my being shivers with anticipation. Maybe, just maybe, that one page would turn out to be decent. Maybe, just maybe, today would be great. Maybe, just maybe, he would turn out to be the one.

When the moment happens, we are not always prepared for the answer we get. Sometimes it will crush us, more times than we can imagine. But if it does not break one’s heart, then it is not worth waiting for in the first place.

Things happen

It’s funny how things turn out. One meets a priest, gets absolution and encouragement, yet meets another, and is dismayed. One sees a car disappear forever within half an hour. One endures questioning about life and family from inquisitive strangers in a dinner fit for a TV movie. One replays the most innocent and cheerful memories of past years for several days. One gets a lecture about the blessedness of poverty. One witnesses the circus-like atmosphere of an elections gone crazy. One’s scholarship is finally used in real life, but in true comic fashion, one couldn’t even remember what one wrote.

Tomorrow is another dinner that promises to top the earlier one. The more elders, the more exciting, apparently. Things happen. One cannot do anything about it.