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Incredible day. Had a reasonable call to get out to the bus that took us to the termini, the central bus/Met.Ro. station. We took about 40 minutes of trains out to Ostia Antica, probably the best-preserved Roman city ruins around. Such a cool place, and so far out that we thought the scouts (or, as we discovered later, altarkids) would never find us. We were wrong.
Incoming!
Minutes after we purchased our tickets, a thousand of them showed up. Then one of our group discovered his wallet missing, unfortunately, so Bill had to take him to the polizia station and report it. Bill also has been struck with a rough cold and lost most of his voice. It was a poor start. But the scouts thinned out, and we passed on our sympathies, and got to the business of exploring the very cool ruins with our knowledgable guides.
Nick sizing up the theater orchestra.
It was a very photogenic place, hard to find shade, but it felt great to be hiking again after yesterday's standing marathon. We recited poems and lines of plays at the very well-preserved theater, ate lunch at a marble picnic table, and posed on the ancient latrines.
Since we were so far out anyway, part of the itinerary is the lido (beach) at the end of the E line of the Met.Ro. So we got back on the train and rode it all the way to the coast, with its black sand beaches and resort-style accoutrements. The Italians have beaching down to a science. All along the shore are numbered umbrellas, little cabanas, and chairs that you can rent in part or piecemeal. Most of the group rented two chairs under an umbrella (24 euro), or just the umbrella (8). But you got it as long as you liked, and they set everything up for you and it was super nice.
There were showers, changing rooms toilets, etc. and they were all really clean, well-designed and right on the beach. Of course, since you can't be more than a few minutes away from spending money in Italy, vendors would walk among the chairs selling beads (5 euro), ice water (3 euro), or massages (5 euro per body section). Having to refuse goods and services every 10 minutes is apparantly very italian.
The surf was very rough today, which was fun in short spurts as a physical challenge. And so warm! It was like Bizarro Hawaii, with muddy water and cleaner beaches. Worth it, would love to go back. You could feel the stress dripping onto the sand under your lounge chair.
Feeling like human jelly, we sloshed back to the train for the ride home to find some food. Two trains and a bus later, we chewed through more delicious Autogrill food, then retired to the deck with our wine and cards. We got halfway through our second game of Idiot when we realized that the lightning happening in the south was actually quite frequent, and becoming brighter. We went out from under the canopy and realized it was lighting up the whole sky. A tremendous thunderhead had built up, and the heat lightning was striking every few seconds. No thunder, no visible rain at any distance, just a fireworks show for the gods. Vicki and Bill came out later, and Bill played his guitar while flocks of underlit white seagulls fled the storm as it flashed in the south. It was absolute magic. Sitting there with my chianti, all my senses were soaking in beauty. I could max out this entry and not begin to describe it except to say that all that gold, all the work and money and passion that went into St. Peters was trying to capture what we saw in the sky tonight. To a majesty greater than any man could concieve, a power impossibly great, we can do so little to compare. Watching that lightning and those flocking seagulls was more simple, beautiful and enormous than all the art we've seen on this tour. The circle is closed, and art, our art, is but the climb, the prelude, a scaffolding. The world and its stories are more infinite and passionate than anything we can create.
You ever notice how much lightning looks like nerves, and nerves firing look like lightning? The processes are nearly identical, just on different scales.
It is late and I must go to bed, but today has been achingly good, and despite the cracked-desert sunburn I now have on my shoulders and chest, things are sweet indeed.
Incoming!
Minutes after we purchased our tickets, a thousand of them showed up. Then one of our group discovered his wallet missing, unfortunately, so Bill had to take him to the polizia station and report it. Bill also has been struck with a rough cold and lost most of his voice. It was a poor start. But the scouts thinned out, and we passed on our sympathies, and got to the business of exploring the very cool ruins with our knowledgable guides.
Nick sizing up the theater orchestra.
It was a very photogenic place, hard to find shade, but it felt great to be hiking again after yesterday's standing marathon. We recited poems and lines of plays at the very well-preserved theater, ate lunch at a marble picnic table, and posed on the ancient latrines.
Since we were so far out anyway, part of the itinerary is the lido (beach) at the end of the E line of the Met.Ro. So we got back on the train and rode it all the way to the coast, with its black sand beaches and resort-style accoutrements. The Italians have beaching down to a science. All along the shore are numbered umbrellas, little cabanas, and chairs that you can rent in part or piecemeal. Most of the group rented two chairs under an umbrella (24 euro), or just the umbrella (8). But you got it as long as you liked, and they set everything up for you and it was super nice.
There were showers, changing rooms toilets, etc. and they were all really clean, well-designed and right on the beach. Of course, since you can't be more than a few minutes away from spending money in Italy, vendors would walk among the chairs selling beads (5 euro), ice water (3 euro), or massages (5 euro per body section). Having to refuse goods and services every 10 minutes is apparantly very italian.
The surf was very rough today, which was fun in short spurts as a physical challenge. And so warm! It was like Bizarro Hawaii, with muddy water and cleaner beaches. Worth it, would love to go back. You could feel the stress dripping onto the sand under your lounge chair.
Feeling like human jelly, we sloshed back to the train for the ride home to find some food. Two trains and a bus later, we chewed through more delicious Autogrill food, then retired to the deck with our wine and cards. We got halfway through our second game of Idiot when we realized that the lightning happening in the south was actually quite frequent, and becoming brighter. We went out from under the canopy and realized it was lighting up the whole sky. A tremendous thunderhead had built up, and the heat lightning was striking every few seconds. No thunder, no visible rain at any distance, just a fireworks show for the gods. Vicki and Bill came out later, and Bill played his guitar while flocks of underlit white seagulls fled the storm as it flashed in the south. It was absolute magic. Sitting there with my chianti, all my senses were soaking in beauty. I could max out this entry and not begin to describe it except to say that all that gold, all the work and money and passion that went into St. Peters was trying to capture what we saw in the sky tonight. To a majesty greater than any man could concieve, a power impossibly great, we can do so little to compare. Watching that lightning and those flocking seagulls was more simple, beautiful and enormous than all the art we've seen on this tour. The circle is closed, and art, our art, is but the climb, the prelude, a scaffolding. The world and its stories are more infinite and passionate than anything we can create.
You ever notice how much lightning looks like nerves, and nerves firing look like lightning? The processes are nearly identical, just on different scales.
It is late and I must go to bed, but today has been achingly good, and despite the cracked-desert sunburn I now have on my shoulders and chest, things are sweet indeed.
