For those who really geek out on Rome's ancient past, there's no better monument to the Roman empire's engineering skill than its aqueducts.
(Okay, okay, there is the Colosseum. And the Pantheon. But to fully grasp how ancient Romans made everyday life easier for their citizens — like by bringing thousands of liters of water into the city each day — you can't beat a glimpse of the ancient aqueducts).
You can still see the Claudian aqueduct, in all its slightly-degraded glory, at the Parco degli Acquedotti, 5 miles outside the city center. The Aqua Claudia cuts right through the park as it reaches the end of its 45-mile run. Most of the aqueduct is underground; here, though, you can see it above ground in all its arch-on-arch glory. That's not to mention the technical skill it required: Romans designed their aqueducts to drop precisely 6 inches per Roman mile. Imagine doing that, for miles and miles… without computers.
The result? The Claudian aqueduct carried 2,200 liters of water per second into the city of Rome. That made it alone able to serve every single Roman district. Yet there were at least 10 other aqueducts (18 if you count the separate branches) leading into the city.
Aqua Claudia strikes history lovers for another reason, too. Some of Rome's most famous emperors had a hand in the aqueduct. Emperor Caligula started building (38 AD), Claudius completed it (52 AD), Vespasian restored it (71 AD) and Titus restored it again (81 AD).
Do the Romans still use the ancient aqueducts? Yes. And if you go to the park, here's your proof. Look closely at the aqueduct, and you can see that modern piping lays on top of it.
All that aside: Unless you love ancient Roman engineering and are really keen to see aqueducts, this isn't one of the sites I'd recommend doing if you have, say, fewer than four or five days in Rome. There's simply too much else in the center to see. But if you have a little more wiggle room, or perhaps are returning to Rome for a second or third time, consider taking a picnic lunch out to the park or doing a bike ride. The park's biggest draw, especially during high season? It's a great way to appreciate ancient Rome… but the without crowds or costs of more central sites.
To get to the Parco degli Acquedotti, take the metro out to Cinecittà on the A line. For a map, click here.
Celebrate your Saturday night a little differently: From August 21, take a guided evening tour of the Colosseum (until October 2) or Baths of Caracalla (until October 23).
The option is especially exciting for the Colosseum, since the tours will include the subterranean area underneath the arena — a section that has never been opened to the public before. Under the stars (and, okay, installed lighting system), explore where the gladiators and animals would have waited for their turn in the arena. Bummer! I realized on a second reading that the website was a little unclear in saying that the subterranean area would be included: Did this mean you'd actually go into the subterranean area or that it would just be talked about? I gave them a follow-up call and it turns out the area is (still!) not open, so it'll be discussed only.
But I stand by the fact that it'll be a different, and uncrowded, way to see the Colosseum.
Tours of both the Colosseum and Baths of Caracalla, led by archaeologists, will be offered in English and Italian from 9pm to midnight each Saturday. The Colosseum costs €15 (including entrance), or €12 reduced; the Baths cost €10, or €8 reduced. To book, call +39 0639967700. For more information (in Italian), click here.
Addendum: For more information on how exactly to book (and do do so in advance), see my response to Jessica's comment, below.
Update, 9/13: Tickets for Colosseum entrances at night are now completely full. However, some times for the Baths of Caracalla remain free. English guided tours are at 10pm only.
The short answer: because as long as people in general, and Romans in particular, have been around, we've had the urge to make our mark. That's as true of cave paintings thousands of years ago as it is of "Katie + Tom 4ever" today.
And graffiti isn't always a bad thing. Without ancient graffiti, we wouldn't have the world's oldest example of written Latin, carved into the lapis niger in the Forum in 575 B.C. We wouldn't have nearly as much idea of how literate most ancient Romans were, or of how they actually pronounced their language (both of which we can tell from graffiti's misspellings and grammatical errors).
Graffiti also gives us insights — often both humorous and humanizing — into past cultures. Actual graffiti in Pompeii, for example, includes such winning lines as "Weep, you girls. My penis has given you up. Now it penetrates men's behinds. Goodbye, wondrous femininity!" (bar/brothel of Innulus and Papilio); "Satura was here on September 3rd" (atrium of the House of Pinarius); "Atimetus got me pregnant" (House of the Vibii); "Celadus the Thracier makes the girls moan!" (gladiators' barracks); and "If anyone does not believe in Venus, they should gaze at my girlfriend" (atrium of the house of Pinarius) (and — aww!).
There's also this lovely romantic triangle, played out in inscriptions on the Bar of Prima. "Successus, a weaver, loves the innkeeper’s slave girl named Iris. She, however, does not love him. Still, he begs her to have pity on him. His rival wrote this. Goodbye." Successus' response: “Envious one, why do you get in the way. Submit to a handsomer man and one who is being treated very wrongly and good looking.” The downtrodden Severus: “I have spoken. I have written all there is to say. You love Iris, but she does not love you."
And everyone — not just the riffraff of society — has felt the urge to make their mark on buildings and monuments, even those who, it would seem, were making more important marks in other ways. Michelangelo and Raphael scratched their names into the ruins of Nero's Domus Aurea; American settlers heading west carved inscriptions onto Signature Rock on the Oregon Trail, now a national landmark. Even Lord Byron couldn't resist, scratching his name onto the Temple of Poseidon in Attica, Greece.
Fine, you say. But why all the graffiti now?
It's true: For a modern city, Rome certainly has its fair share of spraypainted scrawls. (Although if you head to London's Brick Lane neighborhood, or other southern European cities like Athens, you'd see just as much. Not to mention places like Olinda, Brazil, where graffiti has reached the height of an art form — just check out the image at the bottom, which puts most Roman graffiti to shame). And importance of historical graffiti aside, it's not necessarily a good thing. Aesthetically, it can be an eyesore; practically, it can't be good for the old buildings. Cleaning it up, meanwhile, is frustrating and expensive: Repainting a 4-story palazzo can set you back €40,000.
And so Rome's launched a campaign against the practice. In February, the city's conservative mayor raised the fine for graffiti from a minimum €25 to €300 and mandated that anyone caught doing it will be forced to clean the graffiti up. Meanwhile, expats and Italians have started to fight the city's graffiti in volunteer squads, armed with paintbrushes and cleaning solution.
But not everyone's thrilled about these attempts. Critics point to how long graffiti has been around for, saying that preventing Romans from spray-painting their walls is like forbidding them from ever using slang. For some practitioners, meanwhile, graffiti is an art; for others, it's part of a heated competition to claim physical space in a city where actually buying property is out of most Romans' means.
And in a city where jobs are scarce and creative jobs scarcer, where architectural or artistic innovation rare (modern Maxxi museum aside), where the old palaces and ancient ruins can make the city feel more like a living museum than an evolving, organic metropolis, where the police aren't particularly notable for being energetic enforcers of the law — that all seems like the kind of place where it's little surprise that a teenager might grab a can of spray-paint and go "tagging" on a hot, lazy summer night. Nor is it surprising that most Romans, as much as many support a "graffiti offensive," both seem to understand the urge to make one's mark in spray-paint — and refuse to let it bother them.
The wonderful meals you can enjoy in Italymight not be around forever. Between globalization, a farming crisis, and the demand (particularly by tourists) for out-of-season products, the way Italy makes and consumes its food is changing. Just check out the relatively-sudden prevalence of grocery stores (there are three within a 5 minutes' walk from me) or the crowds that pack the (yes, few and far between, but still existing) McDonald's in Rome for proof.
The same way you'd think twice before tossing garbage into the street, think about how your choices of restaurants and foods might impact the (culinary and natural) environment around you. Katie Parla gives some excellent tips for how to be a conscientious eater — in Italy, or anywhere.
If you've been wondering why more stores and restaurants seem to be closed than they should be in Rome, it's because ferragosto is nearly here.
Ferrogosto — the period when Italians go on vacation, officially starting August 15 — is rooted in ancient tradition. In 18 B.C., Emperor Augustus, Rome's first emperor, instituted the feriae Augusti, or Augustan holidays. Adding to summertime festivals already celebrated, like the Consualia on August 23, the holidays celebrated the end of major agricultural work. Horse races were held; work set aside.
Two thousand years later, the holiday's origins may have dissipated — but the tradition itself continues, under the only slightly-different name of ferragosto. Italians leave the cities and flock to the seaside, taking two, three, even four weeks off work. The result for those of us left in Rome, and for tourists? Seeing door after closed door on local shops, restaurants, and drycleaner's, all with the sign "chiusa per ferie."
Sad that Rome’s many summer events are coming to an end? Don’t fear — autumn brings a new roster of events. And from September 3 to October 29, the Vatican museums will be open at night.
If the September heat and crowds are getting you down, just book at the Vatican’s online ticket office, print your voucher, and go. Since few people have caught on, the museums are usually almost completely empty. It’s a much calmer, and cooler, way to take all the art in.
The details: The museums will be open each Friday from 7pm to 11pm (last entrance 9:30). Yes, fewer galleries will be accessible, but you’ll be able to see all the greatest hits — including the Raphael rooms, Gallery of Tapestries, Gallery of Maps, and, of course, the Sistine Chapel. As for reserved tickets during the day, the cost is €15 (€ 8 reduced, including students and under-18s: college students, bring an ID), plus a €4 reservation fee.
And if you’re planning a spring trip to Rome, don’t worry. The Vatican Museums at Night should return in April through July, as it did last year. Stay tuned.
Even with the best English-Italian dictionary, some Italian words baffle. Like tabaccaio. "Tobacco shop," sure. But what else is going on in there — and why does everyone seem to think it's so useful?
First, make sure you have the pronunciation right: "ch" is hard in Italian, so it's tah-back-ee or tah-back-aye-oh, not tab-atch-ee. (One poor tourist confessed to me the other day, "Oh no! I've been saying 'tab-atch-ee' for years of coming to Italy!")
Second, a tabaccaio is not just a tobacco shop. Yes, you can get cigarettes there — but you can get a bottle of water, gum, and likely postcards, batteries and international calling cards, too.
Most usefully, it's where you can get tickets for public transport. At the counter, just ask for "un biglietto per l'autobus" or "due/tre/etc. biglietti" (the ticket works for the bus, tram and metro); it's €1 per ticket. You'll also see Italians using the tabaccaio to pay their electric or phone bills and to "top up" their pay-as-you-go phones.
When you're looking for a tabacchaio, just scan your street for the telltale blue sign with a white T. Just remember that many tabacchi, especially outside of the tourist centers,close during lunchtime and around 6 or 7 at night.
For the past eight years, Jason Spiehler has been a top name in the world of Rome walking tours, written up by both Rick Steves and the New York Times. Now, he’s started a company that focuses on offering tours by well-informed, passionate guides of Italy’s top sites. In Rome, that includes not just the Colosseum and St. Peter’s Basilica, but gems off the beaten path — like tours of the Galleria Borghese, the catacombs, and the city’s finest small churches.
(Full disclosure: I work for this company. But hey, I think that means I know the quality of our guides and the work that’s put in pretty well, too!).
The company just launched a website, www.walksofitaly.com, giving full information about all of the tours offered. So far, they cover Rome, Florence, and Pompeii. One top seller is the “Pristine Sistine” tour, which takes visitors into the Sistine Chapel first thing in the morning, before the crowds arrive. Another neat feature: All of the private tours give you the option of having “add-ons,” like another half-hour on the Palatine Hill or in the Imperial Forums. Convinced your tour’s the right one? You can book immediately online. Still have questions? You can shoot the tour coordinator, Linda, an email at info@walksofitaly.com, call, or even Skype.
Okay, enough plugging for one day. But seriously. Check out the website. I know I’m biased, but I still think it looks pretty good.
Rome’s Palazzo Barberini is one of the best places to go if you’re tired of Rome’s overwhelming art collections (think: Vatican museums), but want to see more of what Rome has to offer. A stunning art museum in a Renaissance palace, it’s an often-overlooked gem in the heart of the city.
Palazzo Barberini boasts works by some of Italy’s best painters: Caravaggio, Raphael, Tintoretto, Bronzino. Its stars include the lush and moving “La Fornarina,” Raphael’s portrait of his lover (and possibly secret wife), the baker’s daughter; Hans Holbein’s famous portrait of King Henry VIII; and Caravaggio’s startlingly realistic — and frightening — Judith Beheading Holofernes (above).
(Note: This post was last updated with current information in April 2017).
For fans of Baroque art, the building alone merits a visit. Started in 1627-1633 by Carlo Maderno with his nephew Francesco Borromini, construction was handed over to Borromini and his soon-to-be-rival Bernini. (Yes, that Bernini. Some of his sculptures are also inside). The palace’s frescoes include Pietro da Cortona’s famous “Allegory of Divine Providence”; a triumph of trompe l’oeil, it literally “tricks the eye” into thinking that the ceiling opens up to show the heavens and tumbling figures. But it’s also a political piece, a tribute to the Barberini family — the powerful clan whose Maffeo Barberini became Pope Urban VIII (and started construction on the building).
An underrated art museum: Palazzo Barberini
But the piece-de-resistance is Pietro da Cortona’s Triumph of Divine Providence, the fresco on the ceiling of the Grand Salon, mind-boggling for its size, its spot-on execution of trompe l’oeil, and its sheer over-the-top-ness — which benefited from a months-long restoration in 2010 and is now on full and stunning display.
The Palazzo Barberini is located just steps from the Barberini metro at Via delle Quattro Fontane, 13. It’s open every day but Monday from 8:30am-7pm, making it an ideal early-evening stop. The entrance price is currently €10. For more on Palazzo Barberini, click here.
If you liked this post, you’ll love The Revealed Rome Handbook: Tips and Tricks for Exploring the Eternal City, 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.
Check out (my) verdicts for Rome’s most local, best-value places for coffee, gelato, wine, cucina romana and more in my article for the Guardian’s travel section, “Eat Like a Local in Rome.” Agree with my choices? Disagree? Feel free to comment below!
