“And walking along those old roads and feeling their pulse is a treasure, for these are the sustained veins and arteries of civilization.” – Old Sean
Ever-Habits of the Traveler
After a long first day walking through Rome, I promptly woke up the following morning and began walking again.
However, on this occasion, I had no intention of delving back into the city’s center right away. Instead, there was a feature slightly to the south I was more interested in.
In all my visits to Rome, I’ve always been riveted by the idea of the Appian Way. This was the central road system leading to and from Rome, the foundation of its marches, its economy and its legacy. While the Great Wall of China has an earned place in history as a wondrous superstructure, I place the Appian Way on this list of profound superstructures as well. This “Gateway to the East” was Europe’s first superhighway, built by Appius Claudius in 312 BCE, it connected Rome to Capua, enabling major military actions. Eventually, the route would snake over four hundred miles to Brindisi, the grand cornerstone of the Roman road system.
Roads are so common in the modern era, we take them for granted. But for untold eras, they pumped lifeblood into civilizations. They were the connections over vast lands, the sites of endless journeys and epic struggles. And this patch of road endured all those tales to continue guiding footsteps into the modern era.
I tend to wax poetic when it comes to roads. But after over a decade of traveling the world, it’s hard to adequately impress my fascination regarding the structures. I often travel on unpaved trails and potted, old dirt paths and it makes me appreciate the difference powerfully. Ancient roads systems have an audacity and vitality around them. They’re special in a way that’s nearly impossible to overstate.
Regardless of my personal fringe interests, I awoke on my second day in Rome, nabbed a quick breakfast, primarily made of sugar, and set off.
No Parking Parks
I didn’t have a very good way to reach the Appian Way and, as strange as this might sound, I really wanted to stretch my legs.
One of the things I really enjoy about solo-travel is the ability to take impetuous, time consuming routes to nowhere. Sometimes, I’m simply mildly curious about something and decide to lose an hour or three peeking at it.
In this case, it was Parco Archeologico di Centocelle. This is an empty field close to an airport. I walked through it peacefully enough before angling far, far south towards the next set of parks I wanted to see.
I managed to eventually reach the Park of the Aqueducts, one of my favorite featured zones on the outskirts of Rome. The park is filled, as one might imagine, with ancient Roman aqueducts. Some of these are settled into the earth. Others still stand tall above the bramble. Others exit only as crumbling, charming shapes against a green backdrop.
One of the interesting things when walking through this park, aside from the immense ruins, are the Pinus Pinea trees, locally known as umbrella pines. Tall, narrow and majestic against a blue sky, they’re some of my favorite trees in the world. I believe I was once told that many of the Pinus Pinea found in Rome existed due to Mussolini. Apparently, the Axis leader brought them to Rome and planted them in long lines along the avenues. This doesn’t account for all of these trees (which are native to the Mediterranean) but a fair number accent the city by Mussolini’s directive.
I like old ruins because they’re undoubtedly a facet of history. But I’m always tickled to learn about plants that share the same historic prestige.
Regardless, I spent an hour or so wandering the Aqueduct Park, occasionally stopping to peer closely at green-and-black lizards. But eventually, it was time to move on.
Rock and Water Stop
One of the utterly splendid things about Rome is the endlessly available fountain water. These spigots constantly spew uncommonly fresh water which anyone can sip. I gleefully stopped at each one I spotted, slurping noisily from cupped hands.
These are scattered throughout Rome and many exist near parks and other otherwise-quiet spots. I found one just outside of Villa of the Quintili, which proved to be my next tourist attraction.
This sprawling estate is filled with ruins on the side of the Appian Way. The structure is just outside the boundaries of ancient Rome, constructed by the Quintilii brothers who were Roman consuls in 151 CE.
Now, the site is swept with white and yellow flowers. Mountains drift on the horizons and sunlight accents the world fondly. Tiled floor-mosaics remain defiantly intact even after walls toppled around them.
It was overall a lovely place to visit. And, most importantly for my imagination, it served as a launching point into the Appian Way.
Underfoot
The Appian Way is a marvel. Aside from being enormously scenic, the history is sharply visible. Every few steps reveals a new series of ruins, fortifications, statues, buildings or historical markers. It’s almost a little ridiculous.
I started down that splendid stone road surrounded by green as cyclists zoom by on either side, clunking over the uneven, rounded stones.
Aside from lovely sunsets, there were a grand number of standout landmarks.
A pile of stones marks the Tomb of the Consular Fasces. Nearby is the headless statue of Sepolcro con Statua Togata. Further along, the strange patrwork brick-and-marble wall of Quinta del Cania directly next to the Mausoleum of Casal Rotondo, a rounded building with trees rising overhead. And then more tombs, more buildings, more statues, more walls. On and on it went. There are so many interesting site and historical tidbits, I’ve lost nights reviewing them and skimming for new information.
I walked until a chill entered the air and the land turned vivid orange under a setting sun. Pink and purple clouds began building in the west and I turned to walk all the way to Appia Antica Caffe. Cookies and coffee bookended my walk. Darkness heralded an end to my hike and I slowly shuffled to a bus stop. With a moon building overhead, I returned to a Metro.
I briefly considered going home, but I wanted a chance to visit the center of Rome at night. Earlier in my trip, a large march protesting violence against women took place near Circus Maximus. But I was certain that the event had long since ended and opted to go check a last couple of places in central Rome.
Night Empire
Once I was in downtown Rome, I gave my feet a well-deserved moment of peace by ducking into a restaurant for proper dinner followed by a raw chocolate ice cream at a place called Grezzo. Afterwards, I determined the world was quiet enough to make a moonlit walk three degrees more magical.
One of the unique things about visiting the more famous Roman sites at night is there availability. Where tourists utterly cram the streets during daylight hours, at night, some of the most impressive attractions are almost magically empty. While many aren’t open, some are beautifully lit in the evening, allowing for a certain amount of passive enjoyment.
Hunched against the chill, I passed the Roman Forum once more. Looping past the now-quiet Colosseum, I veered away from a few other late night tourists to cross Circus Maximus, the ancient Roman chariot-racing venue and mass entertainment stadium of the city.
While Circus Maximus is notoriously difficult to enjoy at night due to a profound lack of lighting, I was pleased enough with the relative silence. Traffic, regardless of hour, tends to trend towards noisy in downtown Rome.
However, there are a lot of sights which are perfectly interesting and even enhanced by city lights at night. For example, the famed Mouth of Truth is an extra degree of haunting in orangish lights. The Temple of Hercules Victor is likewise imposing in the darkness. The Teatro Marcello and Temple of Jupiter Optimus Maximus have nighttime merit as well. My favorite nighttime sight, by far, is the Arch of Janus, the sole quadrifrons triumphal arch preserved in Rome, constructed in the early 4th century. Janus was once known as the god of beginnings, endings, duality, doorways and passages. He is a profoundly interesting god to meditate on during deep night.
Cheers e Saluti
During my wanderings, I briefly stopped for a drink.
One of the things I find slightly unsettling about my time in Rome is my consumption of alcohol. I never drink in Saudi Arabia and even a beer is a fairly rare treat in the US, only enjoyed once every few months. But with the restrictions undone, I was happily sampling wines and local specialties throughout my entire visit.
I suspect having the prohibition released made me overindulge. Not terribly so, as I never became inebriated. But certainly more than I’m accustomed to.
Regardless, this brought me to a quiet bar where a pair of live musicians were playing some lovely jazz. The bar, Anima Mundi, was a true treat and perfect respite.
Once I had paid and enjoyed a side of popcorn, I finally grew groggy. I went home, soaked in a broiling hot tub to chase away my chills and watched Netflix until my eyes fluttered shut.
What a life.
Grateful Hesitancy
My following day in Rome was especially lovely and slow. I woke up late and rested unrepentantly and luxuriously. I listened to music while walking in parks. I wandered slowly through the Park of the Appian Way. I read books in wine shops and chatted with other tourists about nonsense.
I’ve made a point in life of cramming my journeys with as many memories as possible. The world is unfairly vast and it’s painfully clear that my bucket list will never quite be finished.
But sometimes, that’s okay. Breathing is something I can do as well.
It was a remarkably uneventful day. I wish I had another thousand in my memories.
Morning Moments
The following morning, I rallied myself awake somewhat early. I had a trip planned which would take me to Naples and I wanted to get to the bus station with time to spare, as it was my first time using that particular transit node. However, I had enough free time to make a small hour wandering feasible.
Here’s something I found a little odd. I absolutely had to bring my travel bag with me while I walked around the city during my last day of explorations. I had already checked out and I distinctly remember walking out the door with my backpack.
At this point, I spent nearly five hours before heading to the bus station exploring Rome. But for whatever reason, my memory of toting around my backpack isn’t there. The weight just vanished from my memories. I suspect I packed light enough for this trip that the baggage just didn’t register.
So I walked past the Vatican, enjoyed the Museum Leonardo Da Vinci Experience and took a wide loop around Castel Sant’Angelo. There, I spent my time following around a small flock of Rose-Ringed Parakeets. The green birds, now iconic to the city, are descended from escaped pets, now eking out a life in various Roman parks.
They’re a delight. I was happy to watch them forage, audaciously pecking at my book, fearless of any human that dare have shoelaces that look like food.
Finally, it was time to go. I caught a metro heading to the bus station, using my remaining free time to try a couple of coffee shops.
As I write this, I’m on my way to Naples. I found out that my remote keyboard can connect to my phone, allowing me to type far more quickly during travels. This minor boon has made my rides far more productive.
Countryside is rolling past and small droplets of water are striking my window. A rainbow has cut atop a white-stone mountain in the distance.
I’ve been to Italy before in life, but this is my first journey to Naples.
I go with joy. Until the next stop,
Best regards and excellent trails,
Old Sean
Written November 28th, 2023
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Sometimes, when traveling, I don’t have a dedicated workspace. But the iClever Remote Keyboard solved this for me. The remote, folding keyboard is light and compact, allowing me to type on any surface to any device. It’s instrumental in operating this site.