EIGHTY-SIXTH
DAY
HITTIN’
THE ROAD
December 8-9
We have
no guests for a while, the calendar is clear, Kim’s Italian class does not meet
anymore this week so we are free to tour more of the countryside. We always rent the cheapest car, but on the
autostrada it may be a mistake. Cars are
passing us going at least 18o KMs per hour and more. We journey south first to Tivoli to see Villa
d’Este, the grand Villa of the Cardinal D’Este and his family. The Villa is immense by all but Versailles
standards and the gardens and fountains are grand, stately and go on
forever. While Kim wanders around the
terraced garden I stay up in the bar for a coffee. It takes a while as two of the rudest forms
of humanity are in the bar with me. I am
kicked, shoved and pushed by small, Italian, older women who do not want to
stand in line and don’t and a group of Chinese tourists who are illegally
smoking, yelling at each other and also pushing me out of the way. They are
impolite by any Western standard. I must
not be as big as I think I am. It takes
about 20 minutes for the line to clear.
The question of personal space in many countries is not as important as
it is to me. We continue to look around
this magnificent palace with its frescoed walls and ceilings. I am going to try
and get one of my grandchildren to be a cardinal. It must have been a great job. I am hoping
they take girls then.
Back in
the car, we head down the hill from Tivoli to the Villa Adriana, which was the
grand summer home of the Emperor Hadrian.
This place is big, Central Park big.
It is a ruin, but they have a model of the grounds and it’s covered with
everything a big city would have including baths, playing fields, swimming
pools, temples, and of course his private home.
You have to have an imagination, but it is beautifully sited with clear
views of the surrounding countryside and very peaceful. It turns out that at Villa Adriana we have
the last moment sunshine of a couple of wet and windy days.
It turns
a dull gray as we continue down the Autostrada to Gaeta, an old seaport on the
Tyrrhenian Sea. We first have to go
through the coastal mountains and bend back to the North. It is a clunky old place. Not much old world
charm here. The Americans have a small
naval presence here and it’s also an Italian military post. In our hotel, where we are among a handful of
guests, the military is holding some sort of seminar. The wind is howling, it is a holiday and
little is open so we decide not to venture into town and to stay at the hotel
for dinner. The waiter brings our meal
of which we had ordered not one thing.
He took our order and then brought out whatever they decided we wanted
from the kitchen. Kim’s chicken turned
into a thick steak and my veal did the same. We say nothing and eat the
steak. A very large storm is coming
ashore all night and the wind is howling; we are in a big old hotel with 3
other people and I am either in “The Shinning” or “Psycho,” take your
pick. It is such a weird place. Our toilet is in the shower or the shower is
in the toilet, take your pick. The Villa
Arandella, the only 4 star in town, will not be on my top choice list, nor will
Gaeta.
If
anything, the storm has picked up as we head North on the coast for our next
destination, Castel Gondolfo on Lake Albano just south of Rome. Our scenic drive takes us on the Appian Way,
the old Roman road that we first walked on one of initial forays to the
Catacombs months ago in Rome. Straight
as an arrow and with umbrella Cypresses lining both sides of the road, we
plough through the storm. It is hard to
conceive that this road was originally built in 50 BC and was traveled by
bandits, sellers, travelers and soldiers before the time of Christ. There is
lots of industrial infrastructure here now and that means big trucks on this
narrow old road. The traffic turns nasty and very busy the closer we get to
Rome. The small old towns have become
the suburbs of the big city. It is
Christmas shopping time and the roads are crowded and a town is around every
corner. Still the countryside is
charming and well tended dotted with lots of large Villas and farms.
We see
Lake Albano before we see the Pope’s castle.
It is the crater of an old volcano.
After our experience with the hotel in Gaeta we wonder how things will
go this time. We find the Hotel Castel
Vecchio without much trouble. It is high
above the lake and the view is exceptional.
Once again, this probably is not the season to be here but we do get a
view and for a four star, the price is right.
Four star, what does that mean?
The room is clean and stark but at least the shower is separate from the
toilet. This place is old. The public rooms are charming and they have a
terrace overlooking the lake where the rowing competitions took place for the
1960 Olympics that would be hard to beat in the summer. After lunch and a nap, we wander up to the
Castle and the main drag of Castel Gondolfo.
It is small and not terribly touristy with some shops and bars and a
Bernini fountain right in the middle of the square. Unlike yesterday, the town is prosperous and
well kept. We are disappointed that
there are no Swiss Guards at the gates of the castle. The Pope is clearly not here. It begins raining even harder and we head
back to our digs and burrow in for the night.
It is supposed to clear tomorrow; I shall consult my own priests. This is the kind of night you are supposed to
order in, but we have eaten so much at lunch that I suspect we will just forget
food for the night.
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