The next morning we head out to see all the sights we missed on Friday. We walk 15 minutes to the Colosseum. Tour guides approach you constantly, telling you they can get you to jump the line which we can see is very, very long. But, from our guidebook, I know that a ticket gets you into the Forum, Colosseum and Palatine Hill. I also know from our guidebook that the ticket line at Palatine Hill is rather short; thanks again, Rick Steves.
Palatine Hill is filled with ruins of Roman life including Circus Maximus where Ben Hur style chariot races took place. The bleachers are gone now, but once held 250,000 spectators. That’s more than double the largest NFL stadium! Walking to the Forum, I hear a saxophone playing. We had seen Bruce Springsteen on the Italian TV news Wednesday night. He was in Rome to promote his new documentary about the making of his classic album “Darkness on the Edge of Town.” I joke with Karen that with Bruce in town, that must be Bruce’s sidekick Clarence Clemons playing for change on the sidewalk outside the Colosseum.
I always thought the Forum was a single structure, but it is a 5 acre archeological site with political buildings, pagan and Christian worship sites, justice halls and housing. Here is where Ceasar was assassinated and where victorious generals returned from far away lands and where legal disputes were settled. It is also where the Vestal Virgins lived. I only knew of the Vestal Virgins from the Procol Harum song “A Whiter Shade of Pale.” But, the Vestal Virgins were real women who were selected from well to do families when they were ten to serve a 30 year term. The Vestal Virgins were high on the Roman hierarchy and even had their own box at the Colosseum. If they completed their 30 year term as virgins they were given a huge dowry and allowed to marry. If they didn’t remain virgins, they were given a lantern and a loaf of bread and buried alive! Apparently, this happened with disturbing regularity.
Last stop, the Colosseum. With our ticket in hand, we walked the gauntlet of tour guides promising to “skip the line” and gladiators offering to take a picture with “the little princess” as one referred to Karen. I even see a female gladiator texting on her cell phone. With our tickets already purchased, we bypass the line and climb the stairs of the Colosseum. The upper deck has only recently been opened to the public and the view is dramatic. Not only can you see down into the Colosseum, but also the Umbrella Pines of Palatine Hill, the Forum and the rest of Rome. Colosseum events were all day affairs starting with animal combat and capped off with gladiator battles. All of these events often ended with death, fueling the bloodthirst of the crowd. Citizens of Tome were allowed to attend the events for free. As Rome fell into its long decline, citizen’s everyday lives became worse and bloodsport placated the masses. Cynics could draw paralles to our modern world.
Walking back, we pass by Via Milano, we hope to find Mater Matura open. It is not, but a couple of doors down, a pizzeria with cases of fresh baked pizza is open. Karen go a slice with roasted potato and I got one with cheese and mushroom.
A short word about languages. In theory, language evolved in humans at a single geographical point and spread with the species as humans migrated. As these cultures evolved independently, languages evolved independently. Some languages, like the Germanic languages of Europe, have many similarities to English. Others, like the languages of the Middle East or Far East are very different. Karen and I will sometimes use Italian words and phrases at home. When ordering my mushroom pizza I use the Italian word funghi, which I pronounce “Fun-ji.” The woman behind the counter doesn’t understand me. I point at what I want and she says “Fun-gee?” “Si.” With no outside influence, Karen and I had evolved our own Italian language. And that is one word misused over 9 years. Imagine whole languages evolving over thousands of years with countless outside influences.
After lunch, a quick siesta and Karen is off to shop while I go to the rooftop deck to finish reading “Christ Stopped at Eboli.” In the center of big city Rome, with its crazy traffic and pedestrian hunting vespas, this is an oasis. Fake ivy covers fences that block out the city. Chairs and couches are under a huge canopy and the only sound you hear is from the birds.
For dinner, Karen and I do something we never do on vacation, go back to a restaurant. Since we have to leave early tomorrow, we go to Mater Matura for an early dinner at 7:30. Daniel greets us and calls us “regulars” in Italian. We order a bottle of San Giovese and our favorite eggplant parmesan. I get grilled vegetables which are, again, perfect. Grilled zucchini, eggplant and stuffed tomato. Homemade pasta for an entrée and lemoncello at the bar to finish the meal. Karen’s digestiv is an anise flavored drink called Mirto di Sardegna. At the bar, we talk to the bartender and the owner of the restaurant. He points to his suit and says he doesn’t always dress like this, but he has a birthday party to attend. The theme of the party is gold and everyone has to wear something gold. He has a gold handkerchief in his breast pocket, made by the bartender out of a shopping bag. Gianni grabs his motorcycle helmet and heads off to the party. Later, Daniel tells us that Gianni also does promotional work when movies come to Rome. 
He has worked with Julia Roberts (on “Eat, Pray, Love,” I assume), Meryl Streep and, just the other day, Bruce Springsteen. We lament our luck at not meeting Gianni three days earlier when Bruce was in Rome, but are happy to hear confirmation that the Boss is a good guy. Before we leave, Daniel asks for my email address. 
The restaurant is moving to a new location near the Pantheon with outdoor seating and he wants to keep us updated with the new address for when we come back.
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