With Sicilian bakery Ciuri Ciuri, I thought I'd found the best stop for cannoli in Rome. And then I discovered Sicilia e Duci.
The pasticceria opened less than two weeks ago in Testaccio, making the foodie-friendly neighborhood that much more of a must on any committed eater's itinerary. It's run by a Sicilian owner who, if his discussion with me about the finer points of cannoli shows anything, definitely knows his stuff.
But even if you're not in the mood for pastries (something I and my sweet tooth couldn't possibly understand, but I hear that it happens), pop your head in just to gawk. Because these pastries, from marzipan in stunningly-realistic fruit shapes to elegant cakes and pastel cassate siciliane, are simply beautiful.
Luckily, though, the taste lived up to the looks.
Sicilia e Duci is located on Via Marmorata 87/89, a stone's throw from that other (if overpriced) foodie haven, Volpetti.
But do check the piece out. These kinds of short-term rentals are hot right now, and for good reason: You can enjoy all of the comforts of home, and a killer location, for way cheaper than a hotel. And if you go through a site like AirBnB, it’s pretty safe. Just stay away from Craigslist—that’s where the scams abound!
I had lunch today at a Rome restaurant I'd never eaten at before: Divinare, a chic (and cleverly-named) wine bar in Testaccio. The food was delicious, from a pasta with fiori di zucca and guanciale (above) to a super-fresh and gourmet salad.
But I can't recommend Divinare to hungry travelers. And boy, is that frustrating.
It's not that they did anything that I haven't seen a hundred times before. But I'm just too sick of it by now to put up with it any more, even the smallest instances of it.
Familiar with Rome's food scene? Then you know where I'm going with this.
Like one of my favorite restaurants in Rome, L'Asino d'Oro, Divinare has a lunch special: 13 euros for a primo, glass of wine, water, and coffee. Not a bad deal. And there's no mistake that that was supposed to be the total; the menu clearly says "servizio e coperto incluso" (service and cover included). My companion and I even commented to each other how much we liked the rare sight of a restaurant that didn't charge coperto.
He ordered the special; I had a 10 euro salad. We also ordered the (included) water for him, plus one for me, asking for due acque piccole. Our very polite and friendly server, who also may have been the owner, brought one large water instead. That made sense. He also brought bread. This made sense, too.
What didn't make sense? Our bill. Thirteen euros for the menu (correct). Ten euros for the salad (yep). A charge for my coffee (fine). Plus… a charge for the whole bottle of water, plus a 2 euro "pane" charge (wait, what?).
It was a difference of three or four euros. Still, I didn't understand where it came from. We should have been charged for half of the one large bottle of water, and for no "bread and cover" at all. When we said something, the server/(owner?) tried to "explain" to us how Rome restaurants charge for bread separately. Yes, we said, but if you bring the bread without us ordering it, which you did, it seems that would be part of the "coperto" charge. Which should be included.
And what about the water? Oh, he said, it's always tough to figure out these things when one person gets the full menu and one person doesn't. (Really? It seems pretty simple: Just charge for half the two-person bottle).
To be fair, he was nice about it. He knocked the charges off for us. And, for all I know, he always charges for "bread," the lack of clarity on the menu is an honest mistake, and nobody else has ever said anything. It's definitely possible.
But, needless to say, we still left a delicious meal with a bad taste in our mouths. And what a shame that is.
I don't mean to lay all the blame on Divinare. Because here's the thing. This "tacking on" of extra, not-quite-corretto charges happens all the time. Food blogger Katie Parla has written about the selective service charge at Grano that's applied to tourists only, and she just wrote about how Roma Sparita has started sneaking a 15% servizio onto tourists' bills, although their menu clearly says service is included. Similarly, Roma Sparita didn't charge me for service or coperto in June, proving their sometimes-charge is an unfair sleight-of-hand for unsuspecting tourists that's led me to update my own blog post about Roma Sparita accordingly. At other restaurants, waiters lean over when tourists are paying to "remind" them that service wasn't already included on their bill (hint hint hint!).
As for most others I've spoken with, it's not the automatic inclusion of a charge, whether servizio or pane e coperto, that bothers me. It's the shady way that it's never clear if it's going to be added or not—even when the menu seems to make it so clear. And it's the way that it seems to be targeted primarily at English speakers, although Italians can feel free to correct me on this point.
So look, Rome restaurants: I have a request. For the love of your own business, cut the bullshit. Please. You know what's fair and what's not. Charging for bread, when it was brought to a table without being ordered and the menu says coperto incluso, is shady. Charging for a large bottle of water for two people, when one person was supposed to get their water included, is not right. Charging some people service, when the menu says servizio incluso, is not okay. But what's crazy is that you already know that. And guess what? So do many of your clients!
Sure, all of this is small-change stuff. Three or four extra euros is hardly the end of the world. But, when it comes to restaurants with great reputations like Roma Sparita and Divinare, that's part of what blows my mind the most. You'd really rather go to the trouble of making a client an amazing meal and still risk them leaving less than 100% thrilled with their experience… just for the sake of some pocket change?
And, dear restaurants, here's something else you need to keep in mind. You might think that, if your client is a tourist who's in Rome for a day, it doesn't really matter if they love your food or think the bill is fair. But guess what? Tourists, too, have brains, friends… and access to TripAdvisor and Chowhound. Plus, with smartphones and iPads becoming more and more prevalent, future would-be clients now can access lousy reviews online more and more easily while they travel.
Not to mention that, every once in a while, that "tourist" happens to be a Rome-based blogger, travel journalist, or guidebook writer. Or even all three.
So please. You're smart people. You've figured out how to start a business in one of the world's most challenging countries for entrepreunership, not to mention a food establishment in one of the most restaurant-saturated cities on earth. So you tell me. Is it really worth the small change?
The Colosseum has just announced—already!—that it’s keeping the underground and third tier open through December.
That’s particularly surprising news (in a good way), since some of us, myself included, thought they’d close the underground over the winter, as they did last year. Or close the areas temporarily while they started restoration work. But no… which is good news for all of those excited to see the hypogeum and third level!
From Oct. 30-Dec. 31, English tours will run at 9:40am, 12:40pm, 1pm, and 2:20pm. If you go with a tour with an official Colosseum guide (a 2-hour tour that includes only the Colosseum, with the underground and third level), the price is €21.50, including the €1.50 booking fee. The maximum group size for each tour is 25 people. Call +39 06 39967700 to book; here’s a Q&A on how to book with the Colosseum and what the underground tour includes.
While I usually try to keep this blog a bit more upbeat and travel-focused, I'm too, well, indignant over the (hoodlum subsection of the) indignati here in Rome not to share.
Yesterday, October 15, Rome joined in the worldwide "Indignati" protests. In itself, a demonstration in Rome is hardly unusual. There's one every few weeks. (Never mind the strikes!).
This protest, though, seemed a little different. First of all, there was the sheer number: Between 200,000 and 300,000 people marched through the streets, many of them bused in from other cities, even countries. (A journalist friend of mine in the States said estimates there said there were 10,000 protestors in Rome. Hell no. It was way more).
And secondly, the violence. Shops were looted, cars were burned out, and even a government building was set alight; the city's saying it's 2 million euros in damages, although I'm guessing the actual number is higher.
No, riots aren't new to Rome. But if the horrified looks on the faces of Romans walking around, surveying the damage, today say anything, it's that it's not usually this bad.
Update, Oct. 16: My column on the violence has just been published in The American magazine; check it out if you just can't get enough of, you know, destruction and horror.
Shortly after the demonstration began, a car was set on fire on Via Cavour while several stores had their windows smashed in. At about 4pm, I walked down to the Colosseum to see what was going on. I could see a column of smoke on the other side of the Colle Oppio park; I later learned it was from Via Cavour.
Where I was, though, everything seemed fine. Thousands of people were walking up Via Labicana, a mix of youths, families and adults. There were very few signs of any kind, or really much organization at all—there wasn't even that much chanting. Typical Italian protest.
So I stood at the Colosseum and watched. A man next to me leaned against the fence, smoking a pipe and holding a newspaper. An Italian woman was on my other side, also just watching. Not much was going on, and there was an intense line of police at the Colosseum, keeping the protesters on their assigned path up Via Labicana.
At that point, though, the crowd changed. Suddenly, it wasn't youths and families walking by chatting. It was people—mostly men—with motorbike helmets and masks on. Maybe two, three hundred. The atmosphere changed. And then they passed on by and up Labicana.
That's when the sound of a bomb went off.
People shrieked and ran. "Che e' successo?" the woman next to me asked, frightened. I had no idea, but decided it was time to move. By the time I got back to my apartment, smoke was pouring up the other side of my building. People walking up my street towards Piazza San Giovanni, where the demonstrations were supposed to end, had scarves over their faces to keep out the smoke.
I arrived at San Giovanni just in time to see the dozen police trucks that had been sitting there turn on their sirens and take off down Via Merulana; police themselves started running down the street. At the corner of Via Merulana and Labicana, I saw it: Just down the road, four cars were completely on fire. Explosion sounds kept going off. Farther down, more cars and a building—the annex building of the Ministry of Defense—were on fire, too. Smoke was everywhere.
Needless to say, I hightailed it back home. For the next hour, our apartment thudded with the sounds of bombs and cars' engines exploding. It felt like a war zone. Here's a short video of what greeted me at my building.
By that night, everything had quieted down. I retraced part of the protest route this morning; car skeletons, burned-out dumpsters, destroyed banks, an ATM that looked like it was bleeding thanks to the red paint that had been splashed on it. And everywhere, graffiti.
Many are saying today that it's pretty fishy that the hoodlums were allowed to do this much damage. And videos show police just standing by as they lit cars on fire and destroyed banks. I'm not convinced it's a conspiracy myself; after all, even Italy's most numskulled officials would have to know that this does more to make the government look weak than it delegitimizes the protestors. Then again, who knows. Crazier things have happened.
But the really crazy thing might just be even worse: that with all of the horrendous problems Italy has right now, with all of the anger there should be against the government (although not, obviously, expressed in this particular way), this is the first time, at least in recent memory, the riots have gotten this violent.
And the fact that that's surprising… might just be the saddest part of all. Click here for more photos of the riots and the aftermath. But at the risk of sounding overdramatic, brace yourself. I'm guessing this is not the Rome that you—or I—know and love.
Churches in Rome aren’t just holy sites. They’re treasure troves of painting and sculpture, mosaic and relics, even ancient ruins. Oh, and they’re free.
Which means you must visit at least some of them during your time in Rome.
The problem, of course, is that there are also hundreds of Rome churches…. literally. Which can make it a little tough to figure out which churches in Rome to visit.
Here is my list of 12 Rome churches that, whether because of their ancient ruins or 12th-century mosaics, happen to fascinate me the most. I’ve chosen ones that are beyond the obvious — so no, you won’t find the Sistine Chapel and St. Peter’s Basilica here.
If you make it, just make sure to double-check the opening times. There’s nothing more disappointing than arriving at a Rome church midday, only to find it (or a key part of it) closed — and many of these smaller churches tend to shut from about noon to about four. Also, keep some change with you, as some of them have frescoes and mosaics that you can light up if you pop a coin in the machine.
The church in Rome I love because… it takes you back in time
The Basilica of Santa Sabina: my favorite church in Rome when I want to feel transported to another era.
There aren’t many churches in Rome that still look like they originally did — especially if they were first built in the 4th or 5th centuries. Most were significantly rebuilt later, especially in the Baroque period. (If you think every Rome church looks over-the-top, that’s why. In that period they really went for… baroque. <sorrynotsorry>).
But not the Basilica of Santa Sabina, on Aventine hill. This 5th-century church has been left largely untouched — meaning you can experience an ancient church largely as it would have looked like at the very start of organized Christianity. It still has its original, elaborately-carved wooden door and mosaic dedication, a cell belonging to St. Dominic later turned into a chapel by Bernini, and even underground 4th- to 2nd-century B.C. ruins (accessible by tour only).
This might just look like a wooden door, if one with elaborate carvings. But what if I told you it was 1,500 years old?!
You don’t have to be an organized-religion lover to love this church. You just have to enjoy time travel.
Pro tip: After visiting the church, head next door to the Garden of Oranges for beautiful views of Rome — and then to the keyhole at the Order of the Knights of Malta for a very special photo op.
The church in Rome I love because… it’s different from the rest
This church looks nothing like any of the others in this list — or around Rome. And that’s why I love it.
This stunning church is one of Rome’s very few Gothic churches, meaning it has a completely different style (one much more at home in, say, Paris) than the rest. I also absolutely adore its night-sky ceiling — that blue is such a vivid splash of color.
The frescoes by Filippino Lippi in Santa Maria Sopra Minerva are vibrant and stunning.
But that isn’t all that Santa Maria Sopra Minerva has to offer. It’s also got a sculpture by Michelangelo (…okay, more likely by his students), the body of St. Catherine of Siena (her head is in Siena…), and my favorite: lovely 15th-century frescoes by Filippino Lippi. They’re as beautiful as any Botticelli, and much more overlooked.
If that weren’t enough, I guarantee you’ll be passing right near this church anyway — it’s next to the Pantheon.
Pro tip: Don’t miss the bizarre sculpture of an elephant holding up an obelisk outside. The elephant is by famed Baroque sculptor Bernini — and the Egyptian obelisk dates back 2,500 years.
The church in Rome I love because… it has the most gruesome artwork you’ve ever seen
Look closely… if you dare.
For strong stomachs only, the Basilica of Santo Stefano Rotondo, on the Celian hill, is decorated with 34 16th-century graphic frescoes depicting martyrs in all stages of torture. Even for the martyrdom-loving Catholic Church, it’s a pretty unusual sight.
As much as the paintings are gruesome, the church itself is pretty.
For those less gruesomely inclined, there’s another great reason to go: one of of few round churches in Italy, it was modeled after the Holy Sepulchre. Dating back to the 5th century, it still has a 6th-century mosaic too.
Pro tip: It’s easy to take an off-the-beaten-path stroll that hits up Santo Stefano Rotondo, San Clemente and Santi Quattro Coronati (see below).
The church in Rome I love because… it’s more like a castle (complete with medieval frescoes)
The entrance to a castle… or a church?
Looming over the neighborhood of the Celio, in the shadow of the Colosseum, the Basilica of Santi Quattro Coronati looks like nothing so much as a medieval castle. There’s reason for that: After it was sacked by the Normans (along with the rest of Rome) in the 11th century, it was rebuilt with fortifications.
It’s rare to see medieval frescoes in Rome — especially ones in this good of shape.
Still a cloistered convent today, it has a lovely Romanesque courtyard. But the real seller is the Chapel of St. Sylvester, which has a gorgeous 13th-century cycle of frescoes that are in a remarkably vivid and well-preserved state.
The church in Rome I love because… it’s a layer cake of historical eras
Just up the street from the Colosseum, the Basilica of San Clemente is a 12th-century basilica… built on top of a 4th-century basilica… built on top of first-century Roman buildings, including a Mithraic temple. Admire the gorgeous mosaic on the top floor, then descend below. It’s one of the coolest underground sites in Rome.
The Basilica of San Clemente looks like a sunken old church from the outside — but inside it’s an extraordinary layer cake of eras.
The downside? The cost. A couple of years ago, they upped the entrance to a hefty €10. That shouldn’t keep you from going in — even in a city as rich with history as Rome, this church really is unique. It does, though, mean I’d strongly recommend that you either take a guided tour or pick up a guide in the gift shop before you go down. It can be confusing to figure out what’s what otherwise.
The church in Rome I love because… you can walk on ancient Roman street — underground
Church of San Nicola in Carcere, one of my favorite churches in Rome
What makes the Basilica of San Nicola in Carcere unusual is that it was built incorporating three ancient, Republican-era temples — and you can still see their columns in the exterior.
The underground of San Nicola in Carcere: It’ll take you all of three minutes to see, but you’ll probably be the only one down there.
Plus, for just a couple of euros, you can descend into the underground to see the temples’ podiums and even ancient money-changers’ stalls. (Compare that to San Clemente’s new, steep €10 price…).
Pro tip: You’re around the corner from the Jewish Ghetto here, a lovely place for a stroll — and a strong choice for food. Give the tourist traps on Via Portico d’Ottavia a skip and head to Al Pompiere instead.
The church in Rome I love because… it’s completely off the tourist path
To be fair, most of my favorite churches in Rome are. But because it’s just out of the center — in an area frequented by students, not tourists — this is one that feels even more like a local secret.
San Lorenzo fuori le Mura is one of my favorite spots for peace and tranquility.
San Lorenzo fuori le Mura is a 5th-century church with vibrant Byzantine mosaics. And the remains of St. Lawrence, St. Stephen and St. Justin. And 13th-century frescoes on the exterior (below). And the slab on which Lawrence was ostensibly grilled to death in the 3rd century.
If that weren’t chilling enough, there’s always the cemetery next door to take a stroll in, too.
Those frescoes are looking pretty good for being outside. And 700 years old.
The church in Rome I love because… it’s as pretty inside as its courtyard is outside
The Church of Santa Cecilia in Trastevere is beautiful outside — and even more beautiful inside.
Built in the 9th century, on the spot where St. Cecilia was martyred in the 3rd century, the Church of Santa Cecilia in Trastevere has a laundry list of extraordinary objects. That includes a beautiful 9th-century mosaic, 13th-century frescoes by Pietro Cavallini, and excavations of two ancient Roman houses below that you can visit. It also has a famous sculpture by Maderno of Cecilia’s body as it was found — incorrupt — when exhumed in 1599. Not to mention one of the prettiest courtyards I’ve ever seen (above).
If you only make a couple of stops in Trastevere, this should be one of them. Truly.
The church in Rome I love because… those mosaics though
It’s true that several churches in Rome have extraordinary Byzantine mosaics (see: Basilica of San Clemente, Basilica of Santa Prassede, Basilica of Santa Costanza…). But. It’s hard to beat the number, or quality, of glittering mosaics here at the Basilica of Santa Maria in Trastevere. The outside is decorated with 12th-century mosaics; the inside, 13th-century mosaics by the famed artist Cavallini.
How beautiful are these mosaics?
If that weren’t enough, this 4th-century church could be the first church in Rome in which Mass was openly celebrated. And it overlooks one of the loveliest, liveliest piazzas in not just Trastevere, but all of Rome, with the streets surrounding filled with restaurants and bars — meaning it’s the perfect place to duck in for a look-see before aperitivo or dinner.
It’s the perfect pre-dinner hangout spot.
The church in Rome I love because… it’s survived the Mafia
The Church of St George in Velabro has survived 1,500 years… and a car bomb.
Don’t let its seeming simplicity fool you: San Giorgio in Velabro is a gem. Built in the 5th-century, today it’s a thoroughly Romanesque church, albeit one that boasts the bones of St. George and lovely frescoes from 1300. And, having survived a Mafia car bomb in 1993, it gets major points for endurance.
Don’t just walk past this ancient arch — stop and take a close look for a hidden family drama…
Pro tip: Take a close look at the ancient arch seemingly built into the left side of the church’s exterior. In particular, look for the spots where it seems like people were carved in, then scratched out. That’s because they were. After he became emperor, Caracalla had all memory of his brother — who he had killed — erased from monuments like this one.
The church in Rome I love because… it’s like a little jewel box
Often overshadowed by its larger, more famous neighbor, the Basilica of Santa Maria Maggiore, the Basilica of Santa Prassede on the Esquiline (at the edge of Monti) is absolutely worth adding to your list. (Think of it as the Sainte-Chapelle to Notre Dame: Yes, you have to visit both, but who doesn’t love the Sainte-Chapelle even more?)
It’s pretty nondescript from the outside, but don’t let that fool you.
It’s easy to walk right by…
A 9th-century church that still retains its original frescoes and mosaics, this Rome church is a gem that, literally, sparkles. (This is one where you definitely want to bring some change to light up the mosaics).
Built on the spot where tradition holds Prassede hosted St. Peter in her house, it also has the tombs of the saints Prassede and Pudenziana. But, really, it’s all that glittering gold that gets me every time.
…but don’t.
The church in Rome I love because… it’s an homage to an ancient ‘princess’
While it’s a little off the beaten path — albeit near the catacombs of Sant’Agnese, for anyone making a catacombs stop — it’s well worth the visit.
Rome’s only other round church, the Basilica of Santa Costanza was originally built as a mausoleum for Emperor Constantine’s daughter in the 4th century. Today, it’s one of Rome’s oldest churches. It’s also the only other round church in Rome, along with Santo Stefano in Rotondo (see above).
A round church with 4th-century mosaics? Pretty special.
Better yet, it still has its original mosaics from the period, meaning it’s a fascinating stop for anyone interested in how Rome turned from paganism to Christianity.
Liked this post? You’ll love The Revealed Rome Handbook: Updated, Expanded and New for 2017/2018, which includes many more tips and tricks like these in more than 200 information-packed — but never overwhelming! — pages. It’s available for purchase on Amazon or through my site here.I’m also free for one-on-one consulting sessions to help plan your Italy trip.
The Basilica of San Nicola in Carcere is way more than just another coolundergroundsite in Rome.
That's because while the church's subterranean ruins are neat—and more on them in a moment—one of the most interesting things about San Nicola is that you don't have to go underground, or even inside, to see the church's ancient origins.
Just look closely at the exterior (pictured above*). See those columns on the left (pictured again below)? Those are from the Temple of Spes, or Hope, built all the way back in 250 B.C. The two middle columns, which blend into the current facade of the basilica? They're from the middle temple, built in honor of Juno in the 2nd century B.C. and rebuilt in 90 B.C. And the columns all the way on the right? They're the remnants of the Temple of Janus, the god of gates and beginnings, dating to a restoration by Tiberius in 17 A.D.
Unlike in other churches around Rome, these columns aren't ancient because they were brought here as part of the basilica construction. Instead, they were here first. And the church was simply built right into them.
To make that all clearer, here's an overlay of the basilica with the original temples.
The church itself probably dates back to the 6th century, but it was redone a number of times, most drastically in 1599. So even though the interior is lovely (below), the really cool part of the whole thing—at least for geeks like me—is the basement.
For a measly 2 euros (or, if you want a brief guided tour in English or Italian, 3 euros), you can descend beneath the altar, into the crypt… and then into rooms beyond. I visited for the second time today, and there was nothing like being alone with these ruins.
What's down there? The bases of the temples, of course! Remember that the ground level has risen in Rome—particularly here, next to the flood-loving Tiber River—so what was ground level in the first centuries A.D. is now below-ground. (That's the basis, of course, for all of the "underground ruins" here in Rome. Except for the catacombs, which were obviously dug to be underground to begin with). So it's here, not above, that you can see the actual podiums of the various temples.
Granted, that translates into big tufa blocks and brick walls, and not much else. So for artistic merit alone, sites like Palazzo Valentini and the Columbarium of Pomponio Hylas still win. But here's what the San Nicola in Carcere ruins have going for them: They're old. Really old. Older than any of that stuff (in fact, they're some 500 years older than the villas at Valentini). That's because they're Republican-era temples, not Imperial—and that's pretty special to see.
My favorite part is the last room, where you can see the base of the Temple of Janus on the left and that of the Temple of Juno on the right. In between, there's an ancient Roman path that would have run between the two, complete with a series of small cells, once built into the temple's axis, that likely were ancient currency exchange offices. In ancient times, after all, this was a bustling market area: During the Republic, the three temples formed the centerpiece of the Forum Horitorium, where fruits and vegetables were sold.
Ah, I do love a church with ruins. Don't you?
San Nicola in Carcere is located at Via del Teatro Marcello 46, near the Jewish Ghetto, Trastevere, and Piazza Venezia. Here's a map of the location of San Nicola in Carcere. Both the church and the ruins are open daily from 10am-5pm. Visiting the underground alone costs 2 euros; they give you a basic information sheet (there's one in English, too) and there are various English and Italian informational signs underneath, so while it's much easier to have it explained to you, you could scrape by on your own if you wanted. If you want the brief tour, in (not necessarily great) English or Italian, it's 3 euros. What a bahhh-gain!
One of Rome's most ancient churches, the Mausoleum of Santa Costanza is more than a building. It's a treasure trove of some of the earliest Christian art in Rome.
According to tradition, the mausoleum was built in the 4th century for Costanza, one of the daughters of Emperor Constantine (you know, the guy who legalized Christianity). In reality, it was probably built for her younger sister Helena, and Costanza's body was transferred here to lie with her. (Details, details).
Most importantly, though, the mausoleum was decorated opulently—as would befit the daughter of an emperor. (Helena also was married to the emperor Julian the Apostate, so she was doubly important). That explains the mosaics that decorate the church's ceiling and walls, which, as 4th-century mosaics, are some of the most important early Christian art in the world.
Interestingly, the ancient mosaics also illustrate the shift from pagan to Christian art, and how heavily the early Christians were still leaning on pagan traditions. The scenes of grape harvesting and the details of peacocks, amphorae, and vines all had their roots (no pun intended) in pagan art. (Since a major part of Constantine's policy was adapting pagan traditions to the new, Christian ideas, this, of course, is a fitting symbol of the empire's politics at the time).
The other cool thing about the mausoleum is its shape. It's round, with twelve columns and twelve arches holding up a twelve-windowed dome (yeah, twelve is kind of symbolic). In fact, Santo Stefano in Rotondo only wins the title of being an "older" round church in Rome because of a technicality: It was built in the 5th century as a round church, not as a mausoleum, while Santa Costanza became a church officially only in the 13th century. Either way, the whole round-church aspect is pretty neat.
And if you're wondering where the sarcophagi of Costanza and her sister are today, well, you have to get to the Vatican.The one you see here is a copy of the red porphyry original in the Vatican museums, probably for Helena (pictured below), while Costanza's tomb is probably in St. Peter's Basilica.
After weeks of wondering whether the Colosseum underground and third level would be open in October, good news: They are. Colosseum management Pierreci just confirmed the hypogeum and third tier opening through the month.
If you live in Rome, then you know: It can be expensive. Especially for those converting from another currency. But believe it or not, there are ways to save money while living in Italy.
And so, for expats, students, and others who are here for the long (or long-ish) term, here are ten money-saving tips. Note that some of these tips, like how to save on airfare, are also pretty useful for short-term travelers to Italy!
Have any other tips for how to live in Italy on a budget? Please share in the comments!
1. Take advantage of points schemes for your cell phone, grocery store, and more
Sign up for Vodafone One, for example, and you can earn points and get free minutes. (In the past, I’ve participated in a summer promotion that matched whatever ricarica I added to my phone, and another one where I was allowed to always call one phone number for free). Ask about loyalty cards at your grocery store. Even sign up for a loyalty card at stores like Sephora, if you shop there. It all adds up.
2. Make friends with your local grocer, pizzeria-owner… and everyone else besides
Yes, being a loyal customer can help you save money in the States, especially when it comes to things like airlines. (More on that later!). But it helps you even more in Italy. Why? Because everything here is based on who you know. And because, unlike in the U.S. or England, even (and especially) the smallest family-run establishments tend to, ahem, adjust their prices depending on whether they consider you a friend. Make one local pizzeria, restaurant, fruit and vegetable stand, or shoe cobbler your favorite, and you juuuust might notice that, by the third or fourth time you return, little charges will be knocked off your bill, the total will be rounded down, or you’ll get free items thrown in for free.
3. Sign up for Groupon
When it comes to a lot of things online, Italy’s a bit behind. Not so with Groupon. Groupon.it, the (duh) Italian version of the site, is pretty sweet. There are different deals every day (with usually five to ten daily in Rome), often 50-80 percent off of the normal price. You have 24 hours to grab it before it goes.
What’s available to buy, you ask? Everything from computer hard disks, to weekend breaks in Italy, to haircuts, to medical examinations. There are also lots of dinner deals, great for the expat who wants to try lots of different restaurants in Italy but doesn’t want to burn through all their cash. (Just always cross-check the restaurant with a site like DueSpaghi to make sure it doesn’t suck). The medical stuff (everything from dental cleaning to breast exam to laser surgery) can be a great way to save on necessary procedures.
One of my fave Groupon purchases: two nights at this castle, with lunch, dinner and a tour, for €200… for two people
And I don’t think I’m alone when I say that my friends in New York make me particularly jealous when they brag that they can get a great $25 mani and pedi, or a $30 hour-long massage, in the heart of town. In Rome, the prices are twice that—and with a euro symbol, not a dollar sign, in front of them. But with Groupon, I’ve gotten everything from 3 hour-long massages for just €39 total to a manicure, pedicure and facial for €19.
The one hitch is that to sign up for Italian Groupon, you need an Italian address (of course) and a way to pay that’s linked to that Italian address. If your credit card is linked to a U.S. account, though, don’t worry: Just sign up for PayPal and use that when you buy something. Even if PayPal’s got a U.S. address on it, Groupon can use it to pay for your purchases.
4. If you’re eligible, get a student card
Italy is big on youth and student discounts. Often, you need to be an E.U. citizen to take advantage—but not always. The Vatican museums, for example, cost €8 instead of €15 for all students who have an I.D. And you can get a pass for all of Rome’s public transport for €18 per month, not €30, with an I.D. if you’re under 26, as long as you’re a “resident” in Rome. (This means, though, that if you get checked, the checker could ask for your permesso di soggiorno as proof, although no one has asked me for mine yet).
To prove your “youth,” you need an ISIC card. Getting one is so easy, I kicked myself for not having done it earlier: All you need is a passport picture and €10. Obviously, you’re also supposed to be a student (I was taking language classes at the time), and you have to tell ISIC where you’re studying. Not that they seemed to check… or particularly care! You can do this at the CTS at Corso Vittorio Emanuele 297.
5. Know what to buy outside of Italy
Some things are cheaper in Rome than back home (public transport, Italian wine, ubiquitous ruins free for the gazing). Some are more expensive (basic pharmaceuticals like Tylenol, contact lens solution, certain beauty products and moisturizers, peanut butter, cans of Coke). Figure out what you can live without (I haven’t ordered a Diet Coke with a meal since moving to Italy, for example, and as a bonus, I’ve found I’ve completely lost the taste for it), and for what you can’t—like lens solution—consider bringing some from home.
Don’t want to give this up in Rome? It’ll cost you
But that doesn’t mean you should have friends or family send you the cheaper goods by mail. Lots of things have a tendency to get hung up in customs (if they make it at all!), and you’ll have to fill out a bunch of paperwork and then pay a lot of money to claim your package. (One friend of mine had to spend about $50 to retrieve an Easter basket of candy her mother sent her). If you can’t buy it while you’re in the States and bring it over yourself, in general, don’t have anyone send it to you.
6. Be careful with your credit cards in Italy
…and no, I don’t mean in terms of the usual, “always pay them off as you go” advice. First of all, remember that few places in Italy accept credit cards. And that even if a restaurant does, technically, accept them, that means the transaction is fully registered and taxed—so you have a higher chance of getting a “break” on your bill, and of making friends with the owner (see tip #2!), if you pay in cash.
Secondly, know that most credit cards charge you an “international transaction fee” for using your card abroad. One of the only ones I know of that doesn’t is Capital One. So when I have to use a card in Italy, that’s the card I reach for. (Although I’d love if Capital One had some competition in this regard!).
7. Save on all those airfares back and forth from Italy
One of the expenses that stings the most is going back and forth to your home country. First, forget the old method of just using a couple of U.S.-run sites, like Expedia, to do your booking. Sure, look at Expedia—but also look at Vayama and Mobissimo, where I’ve found some of my best luck yet on fares.
Secondly, sign up for any loyalty programs you can. If you’re planning on spending some time in Italy, those fares back and forth will add up.
Third, carefully choose what credit card you buy your airfare with. Thanks to its international transaction fees, I would never, for example, use my Citicard to buy anything from an Italian vendor. But I do use it frequently for online purchases from U.S. companies (like Amazon to buy for books for my Kindle) even when I’m abroad. And right now, through September, Citicard gives me 5% cash back on any travel or airline purchases. So you can guess how I’ll be buying my Christmas plane tickets home.
Fourth, keep watching your fare even after you’ve bought it. Most airlines let you do a flight change if the price drops. Most charge, but it can be worth it: Virgin charges $75, United $150, and Delta and US Airways $250. So if the price drop was more than that, give them a call to get your money back.
8. Tip like an Italian…
Tipping in Italy is always a touchy subject, but let’s be clear on one thing: Italians tip less than Americans. A lot less. We’re talking about rounding up to the nearest euro, not throwing in an extra two or three dollars, for a cab ride. We’re talking about rounding up on the bill at a restaurant and maybe putting another euro or two down, only if servizio wasn’t already charged. We’re talking about not tipping the person who cuts your hair or does your nails.
Yes, it might make you cringe at first, but Italy is a completely different system. Many Italians aren’t even happy about seeing Americans tip a lot, because that changes the local culture, and changing the local culture to be more like what you’re used to “back home” is the definition of invasive tourism. Part of living somewhere is adapting to the local culture. The local culture is not a tipping one. So instead of tipping 20 percent on a restaurant bill, save your money—and use it to return to the restaurant a second time.
9. …shop like an Italian: during the saldi!…
Even if Italy’s prices seem high the rest of the year (jeans for €60? Really, Zara?), that’s just because everyone is waiting for the saldi, that wonderful twice-annual tradition where every store in town slashes their prices. Generally taking place for six weeks, once around New Year’s and once in mid-summer, it’s the perfect time to stock up on clothes. It’s also when you should consider making pricier purchases, like leather boots, handbags, computer items, even a mattress.
10. …and try to eat and, well, live like Italians
At the risk of painting an entire culture with a broad brush, in general, Italians don’t eat dinner out every night, but cook (wonderful, big) meals for their families. They don’t drink, and they definitely don’t make a habit of shelling out for €10 cocktails at bars. So, when in doubt, take a cue from the people living around you. They’ve figured out how to live in Italy without going broke. You can, too. Really truly.
