As a kid in school I never cared that much about history.
It was a subject that, in my mind, mainly just required a lot of rote memorization of facts and dates. Who really cares what happened a long time ago anyway?
Maybe my attitude was partially due to the fact that I grew up in California, a place where the oldest things you'll see are from the late seventeen hundreds at best.
As an adult I've become much more interested in history. Each time I travel to a new country, it sparks an interest in learning more about the place and how it came to be the way it is.
When Anthea and I decided to visit Rome this year, the decision was influenced more by the fact that she used to live there and knew some people, she speaks some Italian, and loves the city - than by any particular aspect of Rome itself.
Until we got here, it was just another interesting stop on our summer trip. I wasn't even really giving much thought to the must-see sights on offer in Rome such as The Vatican and The Colosseum.
At first I was more interested in the people and the food. The only things I had on my personal to-do list for the four days we had there were some restaurant tips we had gathered from a culinary TV show.
But after our first breakfast, a traditional quick stop for pastry and cappuccino, Anthea suggested we go check out the ancient ruins.
At first I felt uneasy about the throngs of tourists and touts lining the area around the Colosseum and Forum - and I wasn't thrilled about standing in line to get in. But once inside The Forum, my historic interest began to pique. Reading plaques scattered around the Forum whet my appetite, and eventually led me on a beeline for the Palatine Hill museum.
There it began to sink in just how old this place actually is, and how much of human society began here. In fact, the very place I was standing was the etymological root of the word palace. In other words, this was the first one.
The museum's history worked backward even from the empire, republic, and monarchy days further into pre-history - before there was even written language to record it - arguably up to 11,000 years before any of the 600 BC ruins we could plainly see.
Ok. This city is far older than I thought.
Now as we walked through the main part of town, one by one, another Rome-originated food item would register with me mentally. Roma tomatoes, Romano cheese, Romaine lettuce, Romanesco. Right, right.
As you walk around the central part of the city, normal life is happening everywhere. There are apartment buildings and offices, and people going about their day. But around every corner there seems to be something very very old - like an old temple or theatre. Something that, if it were any other place, would be the central historic monument. But here in Rome, they are scattered all over town.
The one sight that really humbled me the most was The Pantheon. It would have been your run of the mill nice old building with a giant ornate dome. It had the impressive feel of a much more modern building - only this one was built in 128 AD. Normally buildings this old are ruins so it's tough to get a feel for what they were like originally.
All I could think while looking around the impressive interior was, "They could do this back then?" Clearly my understanding of what was possible was flat wrong.
The whole experience re-sparked my interest in ancient civilization and architecture.
Returning to modern times, we continued our food tour over the next few days.
We ate delicious modern takes on pizza at Bonci and Emma pizzerias. We stumbled upon a charming place called Taverna de Mercanti while wandering the medieval alleyways near the Tibor river. There we tried the cacio e pepe, a deliciously simple Roman pasta dish. We ventured out to the Pigneto neighborhood so I could get my hands on some quality porchetta, which is basically a lovely warm pile of sliced roasted pork.
But the most authentic evening of our stay was a dinner we had with four of Anthea's Roman friends she knew from the year she lived in Rome back in the 90's.
Sometimes when I travel to a new place, I go there with preconceived notions in my mind of how it will be - sometimes placed there from images from movies and television. Normally, those stereotypes give way to the reality of a place and I end up with new understanding and brand new stereotypes.
But not this evening. There was one moment while eating with Anthea's friends at an outdoor table where I felt like I was sitting on the set of a Hollywood movie about Italy.
Four of us sat at an outdoor table at Maccheroni, a small restaurant in a narrow cobble stone alley and waited for a few others to join. Apparently it's normal to be somewhat late for social occasions, and while we waited, one of the locals took the lead and ordered wine and antipasti - an abundance of cured meats, a variety of cheese, and warm bread.
Italian nightlife meandered by our table - little motorbikes and tiny cars squeezed by; a Roman priest in a grey suit and white collar; then an actual accordion player walked up playing music from The Godfather as the full moon peeked over one of the neighboring ivy covered buildings. Then all four of the local Romans ordered cacio e pepe as their entrée.
I had a moment where I had to stop and blink hard and make sure I was really sitting there and this was really happening. I laughed to myself, pointed it all out to Anthea, and enjoyed the moment.
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