Rome to Florence by Train

En route to Florence

On May 2^nd this year, we said goodbye to our friends at the Hotel Farnese (lovely hotel if you’re staying in Rome, see them at http://www.hotelfarnese.com ) and set off in a private taxi for the Central Railway Station. Richard, our driver, parked a long way from the entry. After waiting inside for half an hour, I understood why he had chosen that cheaper spot and was grateful for his willingness to remain with us.

Susanne and I had no way of knowing where our train would come into the station, and at 10.40 am, with departure time still listed as 10.45 am, we started to panic, despite the assurances offered by our patient assistant.

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Rome: Santa Maria Maggiore and the Big Bus Tour

P1050760 (640x444) Day two began with a leisurely breakfast, (included in the price, and catering to our dietary requirements) in the rooftop cafe above our hotel. I must digress here to give the Hotel Farnese a plug. Small, convenient and quiet, with staff who seemed genuinely happy to help with all our requests. I felt confident that if we were seriously lost, I could phone for help and a taxi would arrive to deliver us safely back to our little Roman home. Check them out at www.hotelfarnese.com and if you say we recommended them I’m sure you’ll find them as helpful as we did.

In front of the Vatican

Rome, like many large European cities has The Big Bus Tour, so, with a selection of tour companies and routes to choose from, we headed for the local underground metro station, armed with the appropriate tickets (about 3 euros each for the return journey) and with multiple crosses and arrows on the hotel’s map, courtesy of our helpful concierge.

Finding our way out of the underground to the correct exit did test the bonds of sisterly love a wee bit. ‘It’s that way.’ ‘No, we need to go this way,’ but we managed a photo stop in front of the Vatican (sister looks pretty pleased) and eventually found the bus, bought our tickets, struggled with the earpieces and, after moving a few times, found two widely separated seats with radio connections that worked.

With cameras at the ready, we swept past remains of the original Roman wall, (built to protect the city way back then), a glimpse of the Borghese gardens, then around the Piazza Barbarini several times, making a figure eight around a huge fountain.

This site greeted us as we entered the Basilica

The Basilica Santa Maria Maggiore, a short walk from our last stop was well worth waiting for. I had seen it before but had forgotten the details that make it, in my opinion, one of the most magnificent churches in the world. Photographs (the best ones were taken by my sister) tell the story better than I can, but as far as I can work out, here are a few details about its history. The original church was built between 432 and 440; I couldn’t find any trace of that one. Like most of the ancient churches in Europe, exact dates are hard to follow, but this one appears to have been initially built and decorated in the 12^th and 13^th centuries.

Frescoes above the main altar

The frescoes above the

Detail of the frescoe immediately above the altar

The ceiling is decorated with gold.

main altar date from some time then and are still vividly coloured, quite breathtaking to behold. The ceiling, which dates from 1492 – 1503 is said to have been decorated with gold brought back from America and donated by Isabella of Spain. That’s the sort of opulence which has been used throughout Santa Maria Maggiore.

Exquisitely detailed marble floors

Looking up this is what we saw.

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ROME: 27th April 2016

In April this year, my sister and I left Western Australia for our second European holiday together. Arriving in Rome at the Fiumicino airport, we were greeted by our driver and whisked away to the Farnese Hotel which is situated in a quiet residential area, away from the central bustle, but close to

Situated in a quiet residential area – the view from our hotel window

a metro station and good quality restaurants, where the locals ate and where I had to use my limited Italian or hope for one English speaking staff member.

Tired after our long flight, we unpacked our cases and, with directions from the concierge, headed for a mini-mart nearby, intending to buy a bottle of wine for me and diet-coke for my sister, plus something simple to eat in our tiny suite as we were too tired to bother going out that night. The mini-mart was about to close, so, back to the hotel we went. With further directions from the concierge, we walked for several blocks in the opposite direction, ready to sit down and eat wherever we could find a place open. It was after 6pm, people sat outside several bars, drinking, but food wasn’t yet on the agenda.

Eventually (probably only about ten minutes down the road, but I was staggering with fatigue after a sleepless long flight) we found the second promised mini-mart. The site and smell of prosciuttos and cheeses, roasted and marinated capsicum, eggplant, artichokes, olives and crunchy breads delighted us. The whole shop was smaller than my kitchen, but from floor to ceiling it was crammed with everything that a busy worker might need to grab on the way home.

‘Parla Inglese per favore?’ I asked the pink cheeked, grandmotherly lady behind the counter. I’m not sure what she said, but, thanks to her apologetic tone and her hands waving about like flustered birds, the meaning was clear – ‘I’m very sorry, no. Do you speak Italian?’

And I had forgotten to take my pocket sized English/Italian language book with me.

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