Three minutes of glory
I've always been reticent to share this very personal memory of my first trip to Italy. But for some reason, I'm compelled to share this "publicly" now...
My first 48 hours in Italy, in 2012, were a whirlwind. Rome was overwhelmingly beautiful and bustling. Jeb and I were in the express lane to see all the major sites in two days before joining our friends in Tuscany. On this particular day, we saw the Vatican on a special night tour that they only offer during the off season. After sitting in the Sistine Chapel for a good hour, tears rolling down my cheeks from sheer disbelief and wonderment, we walked through the long corridor of art-filled rooms leading to the museum's exit. I remember feeling a bit numb and unimpressed, as if nothing could possibly trump Michelangelo's most famous and treasured work of art. "Oh, yeah, there's another mural..." "Oh honey, look, more ancient statues..." I was also feeling claustrophobic, perhaps the exhaustion of travel had finally taken its toll.
When we finally spilled out into the street, we saw the full moon rising to the east over the surrounding buildings, big and yellow and bright. The pic below is blurry and doesn't do it justice, but we managed to capture it at least. Looking back, I think this was foreshadowing at its finest. We stood there gazing at it for a few minutes, deciding our next move.
At that point, we had been on our feet for 12 hours; the jet lag and sensory fatigue were setting in like cement. We grabbed a taxi and headed back to our neighborhood to find place to eat. Thankfully, a place right around the corner from our apartment was still open. We sat and enjoyed another delicious meal and some vino, debriefing the day's events and watching passersby.
The plate of gnocchis I devoured had the effect of tryptophan. We paid the check and sluggishly headed home. We had rented a darling top floor apartment a block from the Pantheon. The pic below is the street leading to our place. By day, this was a heavily traveled pedestrian area, with tables lining either side of the street and restaurateurs luring diners in with their bountiful displays of fresh vegetables and flowers and featured menu items. At night, however, when the exhausted tourists were all snug in their beds, the locals came out of the woodwork. Some of the restaurants transformed to bars at night, welcoming the natives with music and cocktails. One such place was adjacent to our apartment building, which we curiously noted as we passed by. (Later that night we strolled into the bar to find a local band playing Foreigner's rendition of Hold the Line... They sang in English but with their Italian accents, the words had a much different emphasis. "Love isn' TALLways on time...". Very entertaining.)
Of course, the lift was out of order, so the ascension to the sixth floor was long and grueling, my feet easily weighing 20 pounds a piece. Alas, we stood on our balcony having a nightcap, listening to the sounds of the city at midnight. Fully ready to kick off my boots and collapse, I sipped what I thought would be the last glass of wine for the night. Then, Jeb had a bright idea: "Let's go dance in front of the Pantheon under the moonlight!" I was not having it. But he persisted, and broke me down. Back down to the streets we went, only a few hundred yards from one of Italy's most sacred national treasures.
During the day, there's a constant buzz of hundreds of people in and around the Pantheon, posing for pictures, gazing up at its beauty, taking it in. It was built in 126 AD, and is nothing short of an architectural miracle with its magnificent dome. Inside are the tombs of Raphael, and two Italian Kings, Umberto I and Victor Emmanuel II. To have this locale "to ourselves" felt altogether magical and mischievous. Below, I'm directing imaginary pedestrian traffic in front of the Pantheon. All I'm missing is a whistle.
Armed with a camera, a bluetooth speaker and an ipod, Jeb began setting up the "rig" for our dance-a-thon. Here in the Piazza della Rotonda, there is a magnificent fountain directly across from the Pantheon, with steps leading up to it. This was our vantage point. (One of the things I love about Rome is the glow of the streets at night. The street lamps have a golden hue to them, providing great ambient lighting for nighttime photo shoots. I can assure you we did not have any lighting equipment with us on this trip.)
Jeb tinkered with the gadgets and the positioning of the camera for a few moments while I directed traffic. Only a few yards away from us, the police were keeping a 24/7 watch on the sacred temple. They patiently and curiously watched as we queued up the music and put the finishing touches on the rig. We weren't doing anything "wrong," but we were acutely aware that at any moment, they could dismiss us and our escapades. The music was a no-brainer: Dancing in the Moonlight by King Harvest. It's always been a favorite of ours, and couldn't have been better suited for the occasion. That song was MADE for this moment. There were a few other late-night stragglers looking on, even applauding at one point.
There's no doubt that this was among the most memorable moments of my life. Perhaps the most memorable. All senses engaged and heightened, being so much in the moment that no other moments matter. I still get butterflies in my stomach when I watch this video... Almost three years later. If you ever have a chance to do something magical and mischievous like this, just do it. Don't ask questions.
My first 48 hours in Italy, in 2012, were a whirlwind. Rome was overwhelmingly beautiful and bustling. Jeb and I were in the express lane to see all the major sites in two days before joining our friends in Tuscany. On this particular day, we saw the Vatican on a special night tour that they only offer during the off season. After sitting in the Sistine Chapel for a good hour, tears rolling down my cheeks from sheer disbelief and wonderment, we walked through the long corridor of art-filled rooms leading to the museum's exit. I remember feeling a bit numb and unimpressed, as if nothing could possibly trump Michelangelo's most famous and treasured work of art. "Oh, yeah, there's another mural..." "Oh honey, look, more ancient statues..." I was also feeling claustrophobic, perhaps the exhaustion of travel had finally taken its toll.
When we finally spilled out into the street, we saw the full moon rising to the east over the surrounding buildings, big and yellow and bright. The pic below is blurry and doesn't do it justice, but we managed to capture it at least. Looking back, I think this was foreshadowing at its finest. We stood there gazing at it for a few minutes, deciding our next move.
At that point, we had been on our feet for 12 hours; the jet lag and sensory fatigue were setting in like cement. We grabbed a taxi and headed back to our neighborhood to find place to eat. Thankfully, a place right around the corner from our apartment was still open. We sat and enjoyed another delicious meal and some vino, debriefing the day's events and watching passersby.
The plate of gnocchis I devoured had the effect of tryptophan. We paid the check and sluggishly headed home. We had rented a darling top floor apartment a block from the Pantheon. The pic below is the street leading to our place. By day, this was a heavily traveled pedestrian area, with tables lining either side of the street and restaurateurs luring diners in with their bountiful displays of fresh vegetables and flowers and featured menu items. At night, however, when the exhausted tourists were all snug in their beds, the locals came out of the woodwork. Some of the restaurants transformed to bars at night, welcoming the natives with music and cocktails. One such place was adjacent to our apartment building, which we curiously noted as we passed by. (Later that night we strolled into the bar to find a local band playing Foreigner's rendition of Hold the Line... They sang in English but with their Italian accents, the words had a much different emphasis. "Love isn' TALLways on time...". Very entertaining.)
Of course, the lift was out of order, so the ascension to the sixth floor was long and grueling, my feet easily weighing 20 pounds a piece. Alas, we stood on our balcony having a nightcap, listening to the sounds of the city at midnight. Fully ready to kick off my boots and collapse, I sipped what I thought would be the last glass of wine for the night. Then, Jeb had a bright idea: "Let's go dance in front of the Pantheon under the moonlight!" I was not having it. But he persisted, and broke me down. Back down to the streets we went, only a few hundred yards from one of Italy's most sacred national treasures.
During the day, there's a constant buzz of hundreds of people in and around the Pantheon, posing for pictures, gazing up at its beauty, taking it in. It was built in 126 AD, and is nothing short of an architectural miracle with its magnificent dome. Inside are the tombs of Raphael, and two Italian Kings, Umberto I and Victor Emmanuel II. To have this locale "to ourselves" felt altogether magical and mischievous. Below, I'm directing imaginary pedestrian traffic in front of the Pantheon. All I'm missing is a whistle.
Armed with a camera, a bluetooth speaker and an ipod, Jeb began setting up the "rig" for our dance-a-thon. Here in the Piazza della Rotonda, there is a magnificent fountain directly across from the Pantheon, with steps leading up to it. This was our vantage point. (One of the things I love about Rome is the glow of the streets at night. The street lamps have a golden hue to them, providing great ambient lighting for nighttime photo shoots. I can assure you we did not have any lighting equipment with us on this trip.)
Jeb tinkered with the gadgets and the positioning of the camera for a few moments while I directed traffic. Only a few yards away from us, the police were keeping a 24/7 watch on the sacred temple. They patiently and curiously watched as we queued up the music and put the finishing touches on the rig. We weren't doing anything "wrong," but we were acutely aware that at any moment, they could dismiss us and our escapades. The music was a no-brainer: Dancing in the Moonlight by King Harvest. It's always been a favorite of ours, and couldn't have been better suited for the occasion. That song was MADE for this moment. There were a few other late-night stragglers looking on, even applauding at one point.
There's no doubt that this was among the most memorable moments of my life. Perhaps the most memorable. All senses engaged and heightened, being so much in the moment that no other moments matter. I still get butterflies in my stomach when I watch this video... Almost three years later. If you ever have a chance to do something magical and mischievous like this, just do it. Don't ask questions.
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