Under the surface

Ancient Romans wrote of the seven hills of the city, the Capitoline, the Esquiline, the Quirinal, the Viminal, the Caelian, the Palatine and the Aventine. Like so many vestigial aspects of this city, those hills are still present today. On Sunday I took up a walk up on the Aventine. It is largely a neighborhood. There are no bars, no stores, few cars and plenty of trees. The hill is rimmed with a several early Christian churches. Walking in this part of the city is transporting - you feel isolated from the noise and chaos of the city below. Things seem a little slower and more tranquil. There is a beautiful park with an orange grove. If I could pick a Roman hill to live on, it would be this one. A balcony and a view, please.

One of my favorite spots in the city is on this hill. It's no secret to Romans or frequent visitors alike, but it always reminds me that this place has a surface that many do not go beyond, underneath, into. The spot is a little keyhole in a door to the Priory of the Knights of Malta. What you can see through that keyhole is not something I am going to share here, but I assure you, it is special. Come here someday and see it for yourself. You will know what I mean. Trust me. Don't look it up online. Mom, that means you.

I am ruminating on this little keyhole because I am constantly reminded that after coming here for many years, several times, I have still just begun to investigate all the "keyholes" of Rome. Yesterday we got a special entrance into Santa Pudenziana - a 4th century CE early Christian church. We were able to climb up to the clerestory level and view some of the oldest surviving mosaics up close and all by ourselves. I have actually done this before, but this time we were also taken into a special room and shown a collection of bricks attached to the wall of the church. The bricks had been placed here because they each include a stamp. When Roman emperors built, they produced their own bricks, complete with an original stamp that bore their name. Scholars and archeologists can date buildings based on the discovery of these stamps. Santa Pudenziana has a whole wall of collected stamped bricks spanning hundreds of years and dozens of emperors. This kind of thing really gets me going.

On Sunday I went to the Baths of Caracalla. They are the most complete surviving bath complex in the city - they date from the 3rd century CE. It is culture week in Rome and many such sites are free to the public. Almost no one was there! I had a picnic in the grass and walked through the crumbling brick complex relatively undisturbed by anyone else.

I visited Santa Maria Maggiore, one of the biggest and oldest churches in Rome. Unlike the Baths of Caracalla, I certainly was not the one of only ones visiting this church - there were throngs of eager site-seers, anxious to cross yet another monument off their list. But while they were clamoring to get down into the crypt, I side-skirted the chaos to tuck into a little nook off to the right of the altar. On an unassuming marble slab is an inscription, marking the burial place of Gianlorenzo Bernini, one of the most famous and prolific sculptors...ever. No one even noticed he was there.

Again, I do not mean to sound as if these places are secrets to which an elite few are privy. Rather they are reminders to me that I must be vigilant during my time here and always always keep my eyes open. You might walk down a street a thousand times and one day a door might be open, allowing some workers a breath of fresh air. In turn you are offered a view into a little church, or chapel or palazzo that has a story and a history that you didn't even know existed. So you better stop and smell the plaster. Attenzione.