I left one thing out in the Autostrada diatribe earlier in this post describing all the things they offer; well, they also have hookers. Pulling into Rome I saw a woman in a black bikini thinking at first, where is the broken down car from the beach? But then quickly realized she was working. I saw many more as I rode into Roma. And I have to admit, it is a strange and alluring sight, an Italian woman wearing lingerie and stilettos stranded on the side of a rushing freeway offering herself to someone who stops. For me I have never heard of or seen such a sight, and the thinking behind the image is really quite interesting when you think about the process of figuring out how best to make a buck, how best to attract a lonesome traveler. It sure is different than the normal dark and dirty streets of New York kind of image.
And then I pulled into Camping Roma Plus, the sister place of the Venice one I stayed at. They were fully booked for at least a week, so I opted to pitch my tent, grab something to eat and work on this site. Well, this place is good and all if you want to save some money while having a base in Rome and have a few amenities but, it’s like camping in the mall, or Las Vegas or in the parking lot of a popular nightclub. I ate, had some wine, listened to some people talk about shite, and then slept through the party that woke me up every so often until three in the morning. No big deal, I can sleep through anything that in my ear makes sense, but when the party was all said and done, I awoke, I think maybe to relish the quiet time and to catch up with my thoughts. So now at four thirty in the morning, I lie awake thinking I am in Rome, and tomorrow I will visit the Vatican which is an irony in itself, and the Sis-teen Chapel, and the Coliseum and whatever else along the way. And no, I won’t take one picture, just so I don’t prove myself a hypocrite yet again.
I had taken a bus and the metro to see the Coliseum, and once stepping outside from the underground, I decided to walk from the Coliseum to get a better picture, but found myself continuing on to what caught my eye in the distance, Musei Capitolini, and the old Roma all around.
And then it suddenly occurred to me that my favourite author of philosophy may be here, Marcus Aurelius. So I asked a police officer, ‘Is Marcus Aurelius here? Yes just around the building and you will see’.
It took me some time to find Aurelius, the original one of him, but I found him. At first I struggled to find a good angle without all the lights reflecting and whatnot, but then a sliver of light appeared so I just started taking the pictures, for it had been a cloudy day. After two minutes, the sunlight vanished. I still wasn’t satisfied with getting rid of the things in the background, but I was amazed by the moment, for when I looked to see if the sun would arrive again, I noticed the light was coming through a small window (1 metre by a half a metre), and the odds of me getting this light at this time of day at this time of year on this cloudy day were incredible. So in my haphazard, serendipitous way, I arrived at just the right time to see one of my few mentors in his glory.
This painting struck a chord in me ….
This is the copy they made of Aurelius after they removed the original from it’s original place. And they aren’t exactly sure where the original had originally come from, which is kinda cool too. Anyway, it hadn’t even crossed my mind to see this coveted statue before, until I had stumbled upon this glorious day. I must also admit, I was gobsmacked, completely blown away by this part of Rome that I wandered around in all day, and to add, this is the most incredible city I have ever seen, and I’ve only just begun.
It’s really incredible to think that Rome started with a city, and then broke out into most of Europe as you will see in the two maps.
Since it was the end of the day, I thought I would save the Colosseo for tomorrow rather than push the envelope,(so many cliche phrases in one day), so I took the metro home at rush hour. I waited for seven trains to pass before trying to board one of them for they were so full, and I not in a rush, nor wanting to stand in a cattle pen, decided to just sit and watch this modern life in Rome.
As I said before, I have been blown away by the visual history here, and can only imagine about the other great cities of this part of the world. So anyway for Roma, I left a tear of joy on the marble steps of her centre, and will never ever forget my skin’s response.
As a side note, I heard from Andreas and Rudi who continued on from Cairo through the Sinai, Jordan and Syria. They said that things were not like they were in Egypt, and have been enjoying themselves again. And Andreas also mentioned that my site was banned in Syria too. Weird.
Out of the gazillions of photos taken here at the Colosseo, there must be millions of precisely identical pictures. And if there was no digital, well, the film shops must have all vanished at the same time.
Without sounding like a tour guide, basically they had to rebuild the Colosseo many times over the years for it was used by many other generations besides for the Roman Gladiator years. The animals and warriors were underneath the base of the floor as you can see in the picture below, until it was time to surface. Over the years, they also ripped away at the Colosseo to build other buildings nearby. Pretty interesting, and a huge tourist attraction as one can imagine.
These men sell there stuff like in any place one has been, but here they get chased away, running from the police in their cars, only to return a few minutes later like pigeons to stale bread.
Rome is truly a marvel, everywhere you look you see history alive and breathing. As a side note, the two French guys I met between the famous Marsabit – Moyale road riding from Kenya to Ethiopia wrote to say hello and to inquire about Dakar Motos to see about Sandra organizing the shipping of bikes to Buenos Aries. Loic and Aurel sent me there blog which was really interesting to read, though unfortunately they had a more difficult time than I did. You never can tell what’s going to happen on any road. The also funny thing is when they did reach Henri The Swiss in Marsabit, I saw Rudi and Andreas’ trucks in the photo. Here is their blog ….. RideTheWorld
I went in all excited to see more of Rome and it’s rich history, but wrote this in my journal today … Too much is all I can say; too much to see, too many people, too little space, too little time, too many cameras, too much of everything all at once and no place to go but the long way out …..
o
Sophocles, another of my favourite writers ….
Herded like cattle, no place to turn from, just follow the group, small steps at a time. I was beginning to take a disinterest soon into the visit, and stopped taking pictures, for there were thousands of cameras pointing this way and that, but no one looking at anything, including me.
All I kept doing was trying to find some space, while trapped behind the line of people, aiming for the Sistine Chapel I concluded was the best idea.
And when I reached her, it was just like being on set with a ton of extras. They waiting and waiting for the time to come to the scene with the famous actors right beside them, hidden out of view of the camera for now, getting their hair and makeup done, fitted with wardrobe, touched and prodded until finally the time they are called to set by the A.D.’s. And there, where we are still working, they come and fill the room all excited, everyone talking and now suddenly we have nowhere to stand freely and no way to hear our own minds. We look at the people while they look at us, checking out the pretty ones, the ones who might want to shag a grip(sorry my grip brothers and sisters, just sounds good), and then it all becomes incredibly boring. I entered the Sistine Chapel, and it was completely filled with people looking up, there was no where to stand without being in the way, so I just kept shuffling forward, taking glances here and there, but mostly watching all the people taking pictures, and the security saying loudly, ‘No pictures’, and the other security saying ‘Shhhhh’, and the intercom preaching softly, ‘Please taking pictures is forbidden, and please be very quiet in this holy place’. My aim was at this point not to see anything but to leave as quickly as possible. I didn’t take a picture, because I didn’t want to be like all the other people who were taking pictures against the wishes of the Vatican, but mostly because I didn’t want to annoy the security, who must never want to do the Sistine Capella duty. Then finally I got out of there, found some space to meander out the door and had a quiet cold pasta with the owner in a two chair place, and only one seat taken.
Now that I’ve been a good little sight seer, I don’t want to see anything else for a while, except maybe a good old friendly tavern with bad karaoke going on while I shoot the shit with a pool shark who is a little bit down on his luck, wife and kid waiting in the car, euphemisms looking backward as we crawl forward.
Excerpt from journal …. Day whatever …. Roma to Lucca …. ‘Girasole, how honestly you smile to the sun, I have never seen you not until this day, turning down your head to look at the earth, both equally where you are from I wonder, as I see you glance slowly into my heart I know why Girasole; for you give such an obvious love for life, it’s no wonder why you’re so beautiful bathing in your own innocence, and even in death, you seem to laugh so mournfully you lovely soul I love thee too.
I arrived in Lucca in the rain, finding the key that Federico and Bruna had left hidden for me, and went inside and drank the peace again. They were at Bruna’s parents, and would be coming back the next day. So after hanging things to dry, I thought about going to get some food, smokes and wine, but ended up doing none of them. I just listened to music, found some old smokes and a couple of beers and stayed in to enjoy. Back in Roma, I had left the mild chaos of the camping world there, but thankful to meet three very different guys. Fabio, a hard working wise philosophizing bartender by the pool dude, who I know will call some day when he has his own restaurant, Lucas, the PolishItalian lifeguard, obsessed and efficient at his quest to bed any woman, he said to me, ‘I will be a lifeguard until I am 60 years old’, and he meant it. And then Christiano the Argentinian on another vacation at Camping Roma, with his huge tent stocked and ready for anything, his crafty humour and his devious eyes spinning in circles to the sounds of his mind.
Here in Lucca, my other home, this cafe I go to read, write and gaze. I don’t know the woman’s name, but it is a family business, and I liked the vibe right away, and have gone everyday I’ve been here, and will go tomorrow too.
When F&B arrived back in Lucca the next day, we went to their favourite spot to see Pierre the bartender pictured in an earlier photo, and meet some of their friends, Walter, Kerri and Asia.
I was showing Asia some trinkets I keep with me in my courier bag, mostly from my daughter Sadie, like her young teeth, some rocks, a pendant, and then I came across a small elephant, and decided that Asia should have this, reminding me of Sadie when she was this age.
Riding from Roma to Lucca, my front end felt all squirrley, and I kept looking while riding to see if the tyre was going flat. Every time I was slowing down to stop, I kept feeling this looseness in the steering, thinking to myself, I haven’t been riding enough because my balance is all messed up or something. And then in Lucca, I looked at the tyre and realized this off road tyre was wearing on the sides but not in the middle, so the only contact with the road was this middle band of studs. That’s not good, not on these paved roads, all wet and autumn slippy.
So Federico’s friend Vincenzo, a bike mechanic with a shop a baseball throw away, has ordered some proper road tyres for me, and hopefully he will find someone who can use these still good off road tyres for someone riding the fun stuff.
And to get really personal, I have carried this rash on and off since Columbia I reckon. It started after I left the window open one night, when I was still riding with Jan The Flying Dutchman, actually we both left our windows open one night after a party with our friends in Miranda, and were bitten nicely from many thirsty mosquitoes. Between the heat of my legs being in the boots and riding pants all the time, well for all of Africa I was putting on baby creme to stop the heat and sweat from making this rash go insanely itchy. Oh what a feeling to scratch a good itch, like sneezing or taking a morning piss. So today I went to the pharmacy, after Bruna wrote me a note in Italian to give to the pharmacist, explaining the diagnosis. When I went in, she must have known I was English cause she just said, ‘Yes please’. So I explained the problem and showed her the creme that Dale had given me back in Sudan and she said, ‘No, that won’t work … use this’. So hopefully I can be rid of this Columbian parasite, talk about procrastination. I used to curiously look at the rash move around my legs, until it was only on the one leg, fascinated like a boy looking at an ant, ‘Oh look it’s gone from there but now it is here. Where is it going?’
My other ailment is my thumbs, especially the clutch hand. To other riders going on a long trip, I suggest when the road is easy, putting your thumb on top of the handle bars for a little break. Thanks Nick for that tip, wish I’d done it sooner. Oh, and then there’s the back ….. nobody say I’m getting older, I won’t believe it ….
Excerpt from journal …. you’re as excited as a rolled up carpet waiting to get laid …. with the honesty of a journal and because of it’s freedom to speak without caution, as so should be a book; reckless and dark, dangerously true, delirious as tea, brutally funny, religiously confessional and as uncomfortable as bad sex …. Day whatever, for a day is only a day when you’ve lived it, not like a number, more like colour or taste, thought or expression; great continued lines on a face …. the sun is behind the clouds, the rain is under the earth, and the light is in between ….
Waiting for the tyres to arrive at Vincenzo’s shop, I find myself with all the time in the world, lying on the wall of Lucca, reading under the September sun.
I did a little maintenance until Vincenzo was free to flip my tyres and tubes. The rear tyre tube had great indentations on it, I believe caused by hitting bumps where the nobbies on the tyre were beginning to rip away from the wall. A mechanic who used to work for Vincenzo said, ‘You’re crazy to ride on those tyres here in Europe’, so I shamefully added, ‘Every mile I can get out of them makes the trip last longer’.
Federico, Tatianna and Vincenzo after a hard day’s work.
Later Walter, Karena and Asia stopped by for a visit, and immediately we all turned into children when she walked in the door.
When we were standing outside on the balcony, looking up at the near full moon, we called Asia to come and look. When she did she said, ‘Quickly Papa, lift me up so I can grab Luna with my hands’. That immediately started a rocket launch style game, I holding Asia in my arms while swinging her toward the moon, ‘One … Two … ‘, but we never got to Three, for each time she started with her hands out but by the time we got to twoandahalf, she was gripping my arms tightly. And to be honest, I didn’t even want to swing her into the number three for I was worried my imagination would let her go, so I always stopped on twoandahalf’a.
Later after the working people had to get some sleep, I stayed up writing with this dude looking at me ‘So whaddaya wanna do eh, whaddya doin there’a anyway’a?’
After waking up to leave Lucca in the morning, I had one thing left to do so I ended up staying, wandering around looking for nice spots to read my book. At one point I ended up in the train station to buy an ice cream and some water, and when leaving I thought why am I leaving? So I stayed and read my book on a bench here ….
I’ve never enjoyed saying good-bye when I must go, and conversely reversely there’s never enough time for hellos. In the morning after Federico and Bruna slipped out of their home again today, I woke up thinking it’s time to go. And with a sloppy kind of urgency I packed things up while sipping tea from the mug I grew fond of, wiped the table and dropped the keys before sighing heavily thinking, ‘How is this possible? Oh yeah, anything is possible but nothing is for sure. Really, arguing with myself, what about irony? What? … pick up that shit and let’s get going! Okay but what about why? Why? Yeah. Why what? No ‘why’ as a word, is ‘why’ something that is possible but not for sure? Are you crazy let’s go?! Yeah okay I answered and thought wondering to myself where will this be when we get there, as I said while asking, Am I supposed to carry this shit down or you?
.... so I rode into the mountains thinking, who was the person to say, 'We're gonna build a road right through these Goddamn mountains, come this or that or whatever!!' Wow I thought, nice planning! And now I know why I paid 35 Euros on the friggin autoland for 300km's. Though that being said, I did like the ride with the new slicks on the bike, nipples and tits still intact. I could see how the day's ride rode just by looking at them. No lo say, it's true .... All words are misinformed, they wait for letters but mostly it's all the same words of letters with different pronunciations ordering a rearrangement of things to tell some truth nobody believes in for sure ... well ... maybe I"m wrong but who's to say? Though I can tell you for sure, I don't know anything, in fact, my old friend Dean Botteril's old man used to say, 'I could teach you everything I know and you'd still know nothing'. Haahahaaaa, the mind's of the people, I love them so.
After crossing through 26 countries, this was by far the easiest, wait for it ... done.
