Heatwave and tourist incivility

The promised heatwave has arrived and delivered. It's the end of June and as hot as at the end of July so nothing Romans can't handle. Well, it would be so if it weren't for the mountains of refuse that clutter the streets.

From denial to acknowledging the obvious, the Mayor of Rome, Virginia Raggi, of the M5S party, has ordered a survey of the situation. Why can't she just send out the trucks and get the job done? For months readers of the city paper 'Roma Today' have been sending in photos of overflowing skips alongside pictures of holes in the road and gulls feasting on rats or pigeons.

Unsurprisingly, as the clean up job slowly gets underway emptying the skips has revealed shocking larval life in their depths. Putrefying, decaying mountains of waste cooked at over 30°C have produced the expected. By the time the trucks have cleared one road already the bins are filling up again. Citizens who have stashed their rubbish rather than dump it on the kerbside rush out to get rid of it. The skips'll be overflowing again in no time.

In other countries such as France where such high temperatures are less usual special provisions have been taken to try and assist people through the heatwave and to avoid a repeat of the14,000 or more deaths of the 2003 heatwave. For example, in Paris swimming-pools are  being kept open later and bottles of water given out in the larger cities. In Rome, the price of bottled water goes up on the hottest days, especially in the mini-markets that are scattered all over the city.
 But to be fair, with this early heatwave, the civil protection unit has been giving out bottles of water to tourists outside the main historic sites. Anyone visiting the Imperial Fori in the summer knows how dusty and shade free the archaeological park is. The Palatine hill is cooler with its umbrella pines. 
The Mayor doesn't issue special advice on dealing with the potentially life threatening heat. However, she has issued a series of rules to maintain the decorum of the city and aimed mostly at so-called uncivil tourists. 

1) Taking a dip in the fountains has long been forbidden. Inspired by Anita Ekberg's midnight stroll in the Trevi Fountain in Fellini's La Dolce Vita every year tourists and a few attention seeking minor actresses have tried to mimic the star, and not only in the Trevi Fountain. The Barcaccia at the foot of the Spanish Steps, the various fountains on Piazza Navona as well as the large basins at the base of the Altar to the Nation have all hosted some impromptu bathers, most of whom were then greeted by the municipal police and fined (450 euros). 

2) All over the city there are small drinking fountains with a spout, these are known as nasoni (big noses after their distinctive curved spouts). There are in fact 2,500 of them, 280 of which are situated within the city walls. Romans, tourists and animals can all drink from them though last year due to the low water level of Lake Bracciano which supplies Rome with much of its drinking water a third of them were switched off. Etiquette dictates that to drink you place your hand on the spout so that water gushes up and out through a hole in the top of the spout and makes it easy to drink, or cup your hand below the flow to direct the water into your mouth. Putting ones head below the spout or even worse on the spout is considered rude (and unhygienic) and thanks to the new rules could result in a fine.

3) Wheeled suitcases cannot be dragged down steps such as the Spanish steps lest they damage the expensively refurbished (by Bulgari) monument. The rule also applies to prams. And all historic steps around the city.

4) The Spanish steps are also no longer to be considered a picnic site, no messy dripping ice creams can be eaten while seated on them and enjoying that classic pastime of people watching. Even less tolerated are the wedges of pizza with their staining dollops of tomato and oil. The messy eating rule applies to all historic monuments and sites.

5) On hot days men cannot walk around bare chested, and do not even think of dressing up as a centurion. The centurions that plied their trade (getting photographed by tourists) near the colosseum and the imperial fori have also been outlawed.

6) Other recent bans include no busking on public transport, no organised pub crawls, no public drunkenness, no illegal street trading and ticket touting and for the Romans who hang their clothes outside their windows, no clothes lines hanging between buildings.

And, in a rare moment of logical thinking and organisation, the town hall has said that tourists will be able to pay the fines directly via their bank cards and digital payment systems. They know only too well how difficult it is to get tourists to pay fines once they have returned to their home countries!

But for the majority of people these rules are just common sense. So resist the urge to throw yourselves into the cold waters of the fountains and grab an ice-cream, preferably seated in the 'gelateria' or on its terrace, and relax. No the 'vigili urbani' (street police aka traffic wardens) aren't looking at you. 

20 reasons part II

9) Sundays
Sundays are no traffic days for a number of areas in Rome. The area around the Colosseum, and the Fori Imperiali as well as the Appia Antica are closed to traffic. Not all traffic, mind you, taxis and buses can still whizz past pedestrians and cyclists. Even better, the first Sunday of every month most museums are free. Sundays are the best days to go for long strolls in the parks or among the ancient streets and appreciate the fact that Rome is one of the greenest capital cities in the world.

8) Magic doors, all-knowing drain hole covers and talking statues. There's something spooky in the air. On Piazza Vittorio stands a magic door to a dwelling where the occult arts were practised. No one has deciphered the mysterious inscription around it. It was said that metal could be transformed into gold. As if this isn't enough, Rome also has an ancient drain hole cover that can see right into your soul. It stands in the portico of the church of Santa Maria in Cosmedin. It is the Bocca della Verita, the mouth of truth, put your hand in its mouth and if you are honest your hand won't get snapped off but liars, beware! There are also six talking statues in Rome, the most famous being Pasquino. Pasquino is a small damaged statue on Piazza Pasquino onto which political poems, epigrams and comments are tagged. It's a tradition that dates, making Pasquino's old damaged bust arguably one of the most ancient bulletin boards in Europe at the very least. His companions are Marforio, Il Facchino, Il Babuino, Madama Lucrezia and Abate Luigi found throughout the city.

7) Seagulls, starlings, parrots and pigeons
  These birds are all over the city. In the autumn great flocks of starlings swarm over the city in preparation for their migration to warmer climes. Their guano has caused tracts of the Lungotevere (the road that runs alongside the Tiber) to be closed down for a quick clean up. The seagulls though no longer so near to the sea, roost on some of Rome's largest monuments such as the Vittorio Emmanuele monument on Piazza Venezia or they nest on the ruins of Caracalla and punctuate the summer performances with their high pitched cries. They thrive in the city on a diet of waste overflowing from the too infrequently emptied dumpsters, as do the pigeons often sharing the fight for a morsel of discarded pizza with large cawing crows or stealthy rats as smaller birds swoop in and out. In recent years noisy green parrots have colonised the parks. Their large communal nests hang down from the branches of the umbrella pines, impressive efforts of avian engineering. An urban myth would have us believe that these hordes of parrots are the descendants of caged parrots that escaped or were released by their owners. Far more likely is that they are the consequence of global warming. Indeed large swarms of parrots have been sighted now in some of London's great parks.

6) Trattorie and traditional dishes
 Food is readily available, of high quality and reasonably priced throughout the city as long as you avoid the more obvious tourist spots. If it has dishes of plastic food on display or large over bright pictures of the food on offer as well as beckoning waiters it's best avoided. Likewise if food is being served round the clock rather than at more appropriate mealtimes it's not a good eatery.

Just sneaking a few metres off piste can reveal a trattoria of home cooked delights. Does the menu have a few offally surprises typical of la cucina povera Romana alongside pasta classics such as cacio pepe, 'matriciana and carbonara, then you may be onto something good and genuine. Are there elderly people carving off splinters of pecorino from a milky white wheel of cheese while popping fresh fava beans out of their pods? - then you're onto something worthwhile. Attractive as it may seem to dine on a main piazza, you will be paying for the location rather than the food. Think about it.

5) Baroque
The centre of Rome has some incomparable works of Baroque sculpture and architecture. Walk the streets, Via Urbana and Via Sistina are the two most renowned Baroque streets, visit the piazzas, nothing can out do Piazza Navona for Baroque decadence and go into the Museo di Roma behind Piazza Navona. Enjoy the excess along with some cracking good yarns of Baroque artists' rivalries. Whatever you do don't forget to stop by the Fontana di Trevi, Rome's largest Baroque fountain.

4) An incomparable past
Whatever Rome may have become today its busy streets tell tales. Rubbish collection must always have been an issue as ancient plaques affixed to the facades on Via Giulia and via del Governo Vecchio attest. The Tiber once flooded the city in days before the high embankments were created. The Vatican shaped the streets.Via Giulia was created by Pope Giuliano della Rovere to facilitate transit between the Vatican and Rome's port on Lungotevere Ripa.  Mussolini demolished streets for his great pompous avenues and his processions. Baroque, Renaissance and ancient, all styles jostle for attention in the historic centre. But way before all that were the ancient Roman settlements from the little huts on the Palatine, to grand Imperial palaces such as Nero's golden house above the bustling roads and temples of the Roman Fori or the vast bath houses such as Caracalla's. They have all helped to shape the modern city. Indeed one of the oft repeated excuses for not extending Rome's pitifully lacking metropolitan tube lines is the presence underground of priceless relics and statues as well as mosaics which would be irremediably damaged if such work got underway. 

3) The sea and the mountains are but a stones throw away.
If the city gets to be too much, the sea is but a train ride away, albeit at Ostia, a town of little charm, often referred to as Rome-by-the-sea. It is infamous for the murder of the Roman poet, Pasolini, and for the local mafia squabbles which have marred its reputation for years. In recent years it has been tidied up and gentrified but the large bathing establishments remain overpriced and overrated. As for the polluted waters not much can be done as it lies downstream from the mouth of the Tiber at Fiumicino.
However, a little way up the coast is the quiet suburban town of Santa Marinella while down the coast towards Naples are the towns of Anzio and Nettuno, and for a frisson of a Greek style seaside enclave, there's the hilltop town of Sperlonga. 
But if the sea ain't your cuppa, turn your gaze inland towards the Abruzzo, towards the Appenines, mountains that'll thrill any mountain lovers' hearts. A day trip to climb the Gran Sasso is said to be worth it.  Or you can explore some of the attractive towns on the border between the Abruzzo and Lazio such as Subiaco with its stunning monastery.

2) Il gelato
 Cold and silky smoothness issues forth from multi-flavoured metal wells. There are hundreds of gelaterie throughout the city from the more famous such as Giolitti's to more hidden away gems such as Quinto gelateria off Piazza Navona. There are thousands of flavours from traditional favourites such as chocolate or panna to more adventurous or unusual flavours such as zabaione or pomodori (tomatoes). To have panna (freshly whipped cream) on top, or not, now that is the question. However, beware the plastic tubs, the product they contain is commercially produced and of inferior quality. Indeed why do some bars choose to sell them when there are so many good artisanal ice-cream producers throughout the city?

1) The ghetto
There is a quiet dignity among its cobbled streets. It is a wedge of land beside the Tiber running up to the foot of the Campidoglio. Come here for a reminder of a terrible past and resiliance - the buildings and streets bear witness. Come here for the carciofi alla giudea, for the baccala, for the alleyways and sour cherry pies. Come here for the gracious beauty of the Fontana delle Tartarughe… 

20 reasons to live in Rome

Sometimes it's important to remember why I love this city and what I love about it. I need to remind myself. So in no particular order, which means 1 is not the best, nor is 20, the worst:


20) the weather.
   What's not to love about almost year long mild weather? The coldest months are January and February. The hottest months are July and August. Anything in between is pleasant. This doesn't stop Romans from moaning about the lack of seasons, about it being too hot, too wet... Nor does it seem to stop condominium administrators from imposing six months of heating, which really isn't necessary.

19) the open air museum
      Walking the streets there is something to see on every corner. At least,if you live in the historic centre or within the city walls, that is. Away from the centre it's a different story, there are eyesores aplenty. Having said that, even in peripheral areas, there has been an effort to beautify areas with street art projects. Check Out: Big city life Project, on Viale di Tor Marancia. 

18) the colours
     My niece, on a visit from Finland, could but marvel at the colours: siena oranges, ochres, salmons, pinks, cream.... Buildings are rarely dull. Balconies are often covered in plants and colourful flowers. Awnings go from soft browns, to lush greens via oranges and burgundys. Forget the dull greys and browns of Northern cities. Less pleasing, are the colourful, plentiful and messy graffiti which unfortunately can be found everywhere.

17) the quality of the light
This one is difficult to describe. Claude Monet, the French impressionist painter, chose to paint all over Normandy because of the quality of the light. He gave us the lily pads of Giverny, the cathedral of Rouen, the cliffs at Etretat... I wonder what he would have made of Rome? Mind you, come August when the sun is at its zenith, the heat brings an unpleasant shimmer which spoils any picture. And when the scirocco blows or afa looms it's best to stay indoors.

16) the river and its bridges
       A caveat, for rivers and bridges, my award goes to Paris. However Rome comes in a good second. This is thanks to Bernini, and the incomparable 'Bridge of Angels', set in one of the most historically evocative areas of the city. Other bridges are symbols of their time. A stroll along the banks of the Tiber is a walk through history. It's all there from the ancient at Ponte Rotto, near the Tiber island, to the fascist by Mussolini's Olympic stadium. 

 15) Pizza al Taglio
 I thought they could be found all over Italy. I was wrong. It's very much a Roman take on pizza. All over the city there are shops with large trays of freshly made pizza ready to slice per the customers' requests at any time of the day. No one knows which is the best pizza or the best place to get some. But any hunger pang can quickly be calmed with a slice of heaven: from the margherita, the bianca , the rossa to more elaborately topped pizzas, the choice is yours! Try Bonci Pizzarium on Via della Melaria. Or the pizza chain, Alice, now all over the city which boasts a wide selection of toppings including the infamous Nutella pizza.

14) the fabulous mercati rionali
 Each district of Rome (rione) has its own outdoors and nowadays increasingly indoors market. These have stalls heaped with mounds of fresh produce set closely side by side  and stall keepers shouting to attract attention in enclosed halls or in competition with heavily trafficked roads and honking drivers. The most famous outdoor market may be that on Campo dei Fiori, as it's in the centre of the city, but being in tourist land it sells a lot of tourist tat and at a price. A 20-minute tram ride away, round the back of Monteverde, is the large noisy market of San Giovanni di Dio. Both the prices and the atmosphere are more genuine. Other markets of note are the second largest in Rome,of the Tuscolana, on Via Satrico or the ethnic market, known as the Nuovo Mercato Esquilino on Via Alberto Filiberto where you'll find Indian spices, fresh coriander, tofu, rice vinegar and other hard to find food or the distinctly posher and grander Mercato Trionfale near the Vatican. Many areas also have weekend farmers' markets, try the one in Garbatella.

13) Puntarelle and bitter greens
 If you're in Rome in the winter try the puntarelle, they're a type of chicory, usually served in an anchovy and lemon emulsion. Making them is finicky but many grocery stores and supermarkets sell them ready prepared, all they need is their dressing. They are a Roman speciality and difficult to find in other regions of Italy. Other bitter leaves such as chicory, chards and broccoletti are good too. In different seasons it's not unusual to find elderly locals foraging for bitter leaves in the large tracts of wild land which can be found between the various areas of the city.

12) Once-sumptuous parks
Sadly, I have to refer to them as once-sumptuous due to the continuing rot in the city administration that has led to their extensive neglect. Unlike many other capital cities Rome has a lot of large parks: Villa Ada, Villa Borghese and Villa Pamphili are the largest and most well-known. Indeed, Villa Borghese holds the Galleria Borghese, home to works of art by Caravaggio and Bernini, to name but two. It also houses the biopark, a zoo with a difference which takes on animals in need of succour and has a successful breeding programme but suffers from a lack of funding and resources. Each year the city is supposed to give funds to the park but payments are often tardy.

Further away from the centre lies the park of the Caffarella. It is wedged between the Appia Antica and the Appio Latino districts, both well-to-do areas of the city. This abuts onto the

regional Park of the Appia Antica which runs almost all the way almost to the foot of the Castelli Romani. Less prominent is the wild volcanic Tenuta di Tor Marancia which edges the working class district of the same name and extends to the Ardeatina. The park of the Aqueducts down by cinecittà  is worth some time if just to marvel at the sheer feat of ancient Roman engineering, put even more into context when a 30-year-old motorway bridge collapses in the North. Smaller parks as well  such as Villa Sciarra (in Monteverde) or the park of the EUR with its famous laghetto are also popular though maybe more among Romans than among tourists. These days a lot of these parks are neglected and untidy. Villa Sciarra was vandalised with statues thrown into dried up ponds and graffiti scrawled over benches. 

11) Trastevere, Testaccio and Garbatella
  Each area has a distinct atmosphere, almost as if they were separate villages within the larger city. Trastevere, across the Tiber was once a working class neighbourhood. Today it is jam packed full of restaurants and trattorie along its narrow alleyways and characteristic piazzas. Just a hop and a skip across the Tiber is Testaccio with its tight grid of streets ending up at Monte Testaccio and Monte dei Cocci, an ancient Roman rubbish tip. Recent gentrification has seen the market moved to a modern indoor structure and the central piazza restyled. It is increasingly trendy. It also is home to one of the best pizzerie in Rome 'Da Remo', and to one of the best cheese salumerie shops 'Volpetti', on Via Marmorata. And even though the old slaughterhouse closed down many years ago, it is the last remaining bastion of the true cucina povera, the fifth quarter, that is tripe, oxtail, offal. Like Trastevere, it has become in recent years a go to destination for groups of foodies on their food tour of Rome. 

Bypassing the up and coming Ostiense area, about 5 kms south is Garbatella. Still today it retains some of its old charm and true Roman spirit. The old area was made up of council flats, divided into lots. Many of the buildings have their lotto number engraved in stone on their facades while others sport on their paintwork the orange and red colour of Roma FC or the black head of a wolf in allegiance to the club. 

10) the banks of the Tiber
 Impressive in their own right, a walk along the banks of the Tiber, when the water is low, is de rigueur. If the water is high the steep stairs that give access to the banks are bared with unattractive orange and white police hazard tape. The walls tower high above you as you walk all the way from Ponte Marconi, following the cycle lane, to the other side of Rome, at Ponte Milvio. 

The city seems far away as all that reaches the river is the hum of the traffic on the busy Lungotevere roads above.


       (Reasons:  to be continued)

Home alone in Rome

Alone for Christmas. Again. But being alone isn't the same as lonely. Besides, I do have company: my lovely dog, Ella, and my gorgeous asthmatic cat, Bud. They are perfect company. It's just the world outside my home that dictates Christmas is for family, Christmas is a time for sharing, it's a time for togetherness.
In Italy it is said that Christmas is for family, New Year is for friends.

This year, I got myself a tree, a small wooden beast from a popular Scandinavian home goods store. It's so small the cat isn't interested.
Then I have to figure what to eat. Leisure time is easily dealt with in the age of Netflix and a surplus of unread books weighing down my bedside table.
Italian Christmas dictates fish for the 24th and something heavier and richer for the 25th such as roast lamb.
I go fish wise for Christmas Eve, a smoked salmon mousse with pickled vegetables. Then spoil it, by adding a chicken parfait under an orange jelly with beetroot oatcakes. Parfait=perfection.

I have a pink bubbly, a gift from a neighbour, in this year of Christmas gift dearth - it would seem a belated punishment from close family for my absence at the yuletide table.
The 25th I opted for vegetarian, the parfait was a lapse, and made a pumpkin, garlic, leek pie with a walnut crust. The pink bubbly had run out so I opened a Valdobbiene dry prosecco. Prosecco goes with everything, right?

I then moved on to dessert. It was a first, a yule log :chocolate ganache, chestnut mascarpone cream filling on a cacao Swiss roll. Each step had been a culinary pitfall: mix the beaten eggs softly into their yolks, roll the sponge while hot without splitting it, whip the cream to the right spreadable consistency, then there was the ganache. It was at first too runny, a lack of double cream was the culprit, but mixing the runny cream to some mascarpone saved the day. The ganache lay on top of its log and let funnels be traced in it to mimic bark. It turned out a beauty. It was a shame not to have any one to share it with.

The day after, Santo Stefano here, is a national holiday. The weather was clement so it was as good a day as any to walk the dog. New Year is just around the corner. What can I make? I'll still be alone but a belated gift has lifted my spirits.

Discoveries

There is always a simple pleasure in coming across new things. I've been in Rome for twenty years now. The area I live in, beyond the city walls and on the unfashionable side of the Cristoforo Colombo road, is well-trodden. I've explored the streets, the nature reserve, the area around the Appia Antica and the Ardeatina. I know where all the carabinieri check points are. I've explored it to such an extent that I've lost the effect of wonder or enchantment at coming across something undiscovered or unusual. That was until my last jaunt in the Caffarella, the large park that extends between the Appia Antica, the ancient city walls and the district called Appia Latino after the ancient Via Latina that crosses it.

As I and the dog climbed down into the valley of the Caffarella on this sparkling clear blue morning we looked out for the flock of sheep that usually grazed there. They were absent. Once in the valley I paused, I gazed upwards at the bank of appartment blocks that looked down onto this part of the park. To my right, I knew was the farm, then the source of the river Almone, but to my left?

The map on my phone indicated it would lead up to the city walls. I hesitated. Then turned left, over a stream and up a hillock where I stopped to look at a rabbit nibbling on some grass without a care in the world. It didn't even seem worried about the dog. I continued my ascent past some cultivated land where cabbages were growing and then dipped down onto some rough untended land rather than heading for the streets higher up. 

The path ran alongside some allotments, the first time I'd ever come across such a thing in Rome, they appeared to be well-tended if deserted. The fence was made up of all manner of broken pieces of wood, some obviously derived from old furniture: bookcases, bedrests, tables, chairs….. Probably a better use for the old furniture than cluttering up bins and landfills or, this being Rome, the city pavements. I rounded the allotments and climbed up towards a small glade. There were people with their dogs. A sign pointed towards an ancient cistern. The ground rumbled as a train passed on the nearby tracks. I decided to find the cistern. The first attempt led to a padlocked gate. Maybe it wasn't accessible? But following the trail which double-backed downwards I found myself in front of a massive stone structure. Who would have thought that in this forgotten corner of the park, a park I'd been to thousand of times, there was such a massive and well preserved ancient Roman ruin?

A table had been set up outside the structure. Voices echoed from inside the cistern where a visit was in progress. I walked closer peered inside as the guide and her company came out. I trod over some wild mushrooms and half listened to her explanations while walking around as much of the structure as was accessible. I learnt that this was one of the best preserved giant storage cisterns in the park but sadly forgotten. Few people came this way. A visitor suggested better sign-posting. This it seemed was not possible, there were rules, there was a cost. Same old, same old, I thought. The dog and I moved on from what I later discovered was one of the best maintained cisterns of its type in Rome - 8 metres high, 12 metres long - due to a recent restoration project. It had been opened to the public in 2017 and had once served a grandiose Republican Rome era villa in the area. 

Back among the trees I followed the trail to the train tracks. A graffitti-covered multi-coloured local train flashed by. I could leave the park or turn towards a piece of scrub land. I wasn't sure it connected with anything I knew and a man struggling to hold back his two large barking and baying dogs decided me to head for the road. The area was barren apart for the dying grass. I edged past a padlocked gate and climbed up a small verge onto a parking lot alongside some well-graffitied buildings. I crossed a small bridge over the tracks and paused at an ancient looking church.
I went on in search of the city walls, the Mure Latine which I could then follow to the Appia Antica. The remains of the antonine aqueduct proved disappointing small piles of bricks roped off behind fences. I followed the road and took a left onto Via Talmone. The walls reared ahead tall imposing, slightly slanted, a veritable barricade to any invader. A papal crest was affixed high up above some slits which pigeons had taken over. 

I followed the walls tothe Porta San Sebastiano where there was the museum of the walls, one on my list of museums to visit but without the dog.I'd read that it was possible to walk along the top of the walls and inside them. 
At Porta San Sebastiano a police car was parked and a vigilessa was stopping cars from turning onto the Appia Antica which is pedestrianised on Sundays. I slunk past the car and the fountain of San Sebastiano.Thesound of hooves striking stone Drew my attention and I was overtaken by a long column of horses and their riders out for a Sunday stroll. The leader of the column was quite frisky and seemed to be dancing on the cobbles as his rider reined him in. Others were more dozy, but many were slipping as their hooves found it diicult to find a purchase on the cobbles. Cyclists and joggers also passed. As for the dog and I, we were approaching the end of our long discovery-filled walk. 

It was a perfect setting for a walk. Soon we reached the bike rental shop near the Church of Quo Vadis we climbed behind the shop and into Parco Scott. The dog perked up. Even if I was bushed she wanted to play with her pals in the dog park. Should I let her?

Autumn in the city

Rome in the autumn is magical. For many people this is the best season to visit the city. The stifling heat of the summer is replaced by milder more bearable temperatures with only the first chilly notes creeping in in early November. There are also less tourists so it's easier to visit the sites without jostling elbows with sweaty neighbours.

 The trees of which there are thousands, not all are evergreens like the distinctive umbrella pines, change colour to rich auburns, reds, light browns and yellows before their leaves flutter down ready for the winter. The parks lose their summer parched yellow look and turn green again. Starlings come to Rome to winter and flock in large, impressive formations known as starling murmurations. These are truly beautiful dances in the sky, thousands of birds swirling back and forth, round and round at what seem to be incredible speeds and without colliding into each other. They are breath-taking to watch. However, should you ever find yourself caught under a murmuration, an umbrella might be handy.
For food lovers this is the season of the porcini mushrooms, pumpkins, chestnuts, artichokes, novello wines…. There are food fairs (sagre) aplenty, some in the city some in the outlying regions such as the wine harvest celebration in Marino where wine pours from the towns central fountain, the castagnata in Anzio, the porcini mushroom fair in Lariano or the polenta feast in Nerola. Autumn plenty is amply celebrated. 

However, the autumn also brings its fair share of problems. The end-of-summer storms or beginning-of-autumn storms, when warm air clashes often violently with cooler air wreak havoc all over the capital. Water pouring down from torrential rainstorms flood the streets and the underground as the gutters are too clogged up with fallen leaves to provide effective drainage. The city sweeping system already inadequate can't deal with the added load. Roads turn to streams and  underpasses can trap unwary motorists in their rising waters.
This autumn has been blighted by high winds, gusts of over a hundred kilometres an hour, which  have brought down trees.

The city administration yet again has come under fire for lack of preparedness. Public schools were closed down for 2 days in early November,so as to minimise the amount of people out on the roads in perilous conditions.
The rain and the guano left by the starlings made the roads so slippery and dangerous that some such as  Lungotevere Cenci had to be closed down. City authorities drafted in the help of animal experts who suggested releasing falcons, a natural predator of the starlings, over Rome to encourage the starlings to move on and find new wintering ground. The suggestion was controversial as it went against a ruling that forbids the introduction of wild animals into the urban area. Not that Rome lacks wild animals.
The forever overflowing dumpsters have allowed gulls to make their homes on the monuments and the roofs of buildings even though the sea is 30 kilometres away. On the outlying hills of Rome such as Monte Mario and the area near the Gemelli hospital families of wild boar foraging in the rubbish have been seen. The park of Villa Pamphili is home to  foxes. And of course there are hundreds of thousands of rats, too many for the city cats to deal with.

This autumn has also seen a referendum which had it been successful might have seen the city's public transport system fall out of the mismanaging hands of ATAC. Sadly, not enough people voted so the referendum was null. The saga of late or non existent buses as well as exploding ones is set to go on for the forseeable future. As is that of the uncollected refuse!

But enough griping, there is much to enjoy. The rainy days won't go on for much longer and will be followed by cooler, sunnier days. Christmas decorations will start going up for the extended Italian Christmas season, from the 8th of December, the feast of the Immacolata to the 6th of January, the feast of the Befana - a transition period from which the city will slip out of the autumn into the winter.

Notes from inside the scaffolding

Once, a very long time ago, I was invited to a dinner party in an apartment in the San Giovanni district of Rome. I was disconcerted by my hostess' insistence we remove our shoes (she had lived in Japan) which made me wish my not-quite-as-white-as-they-were-supposed-to-be socks didn't have a big-toe-sized hole in them. Indeed, had someone let slip about this pecadillo I'd have worn appropriate feet-covering hole-less apparel. So I tucked myself around the very low coffee table, and slipped my feet out of sight while the guests discussed the relative merits of the word 'pussy.' A ginormous platter of fried stuff with nachos and gooey melted cheese on top appeared and my hostess invited us to dig in with our fingers. It was a communal platter. Could things get any worse? I looked up towards the window hoping for a glimpse of blue sky or a ray of sun.  All I got were the billowing linen curtains and a white dusty net. Then I saw metal, lots of metal: poles, planks, shafts, nuts and bolts. I noted that some of it was rusty. I realised we were under a shroud and wrapped in scaffolding. There was nothing to see. There was no view. Fortunately, as it was a Sunday there was no sound from the scaffolding. "how does she put up with it?" I wondered as I walked away from the flat later that afternoon.

Roll on years and years and years, after persistent rumours of imminent work on the condo balconies, they'd become almost an urban myth,somehow, the condominium committee after years of trying, managed to get the work underway.
Notification to all tenants was brief, ten days before start of work, and rather vague. We were told to clear our balconies of all plants, furniture etc... within 'useful time,' (in tempo utile). This was then followed by a list of prices the company doing the work was charging to remove attached items such as window shades, air conditioning units and satellite disks which might get in the way of the largely unexplained and undefined work.

The day the work started, actually a few days after they were supposed to have started, I gazed four floors down to see the workman carry large metal planks  and poles onto the ground floor terraces. By the end of the day the first tier of what would turn out to be a massive structure was up.

I pondered upon the words 'within useful time' and decided to move my plants away from the edge of the balcony. A needless action as it took another two weeks for the scaffolding to reach my floor, by which time some plants had been moved inside and others onto the roof of the building where they would face some of the worst autumn storms in recent years.

Trying to find out what the work was going to be or in what order it would proceed proved impossible. There were different versions according to who I asked. The only thing everyone acknowledged was that each balcony would have a new marble rim like other buildings in the complex. No one seemed too sure what was the use of the marble rim. It was hypothesised that it would prevent leaks onto lower balconies. However, most people seemed clear that the balconies needed the rims. All the other buildings had them, we couldn't be the only building that didn't?

A lone protester pinned a notice in the foyer, he didn't sign his protest, just argued that there hadn't been enough notice. He was sure he spoke for everyone else. He was barking in the wind, no one took any notice and the scaffolding monster grew unperturbed.
As the scaffolding reached my floor, the old rusty metal rim , whose existence I'd ignored till then,was prised off. I thought the scaffolding had reached full maturity and work on the balconies was imminent but no. Another tier was added and a platform was built that led up onto the roof of the building.

At night the monster was lit. It was to prevent would-be thieves. Though I was assured by a neighbour that when the same work had gone on in her building the flat next to hers had been burgled. In fact, scaffolding represented a great new window of opportunity for burglars. All those floors that had hitherto been inaccessible now had steps leading straight up to them. This was not reassuring talk.

Work on the balconies, I discovered,started early. This also meant it finished early. The workers arrived at 7.30 and the power tools began at 8am. Swiftly, the tiles along the edge of the balconies were removed in a perfect line. Owners were given the option of having their whole balconies retiled. The new Tiles, there were four colours to choose from, were less attractive than the originals.
The workers drilled and scraped on the ceilings  of the balconies to reveal metal rods embedded in the cement. These were just as quickly covered in cement again. iI wasn't clear why this was being done.

A chance encounter with the owner of my flat left me perplexed, he told me there was no painting work planned. I'd been informed by others that the ceilings were to be repainted. From what I could see they needed to be painted over otherwise there would be ugly grey slashes of cement left visible.
The next day earlier than ever, a worker jumped onto my balcony, and began painting over the ugly dark streaks of cement. The previously white ceiling was now a rather ominous dark grey. My dog raised her head from her position asleep on the bed then lay down again. She couldn't even be bothered to bark.

In the meantime the bad weather was raging. The Veneto was flooded, the stradivarius forest (a red wood pine forest) in the Dolomites was destroyed, the tourist village of Portofino on the Ligurian coast was isolated as its one access road was swept away and in Rome trees came crashing down, uprooted by the strong gusts that whipped the capital. The ominous weather system moved South where it continued its destructive and murderous path.
For the most part. work on the scaffolding continued undisturbed. The workers clocked off early on the windiest day and took cover when the rain lashing down became too heavy. Balconies where the floor tiles had been removed for a total refurbishment flooded onto the dirty granite, leaving unattractive large puddles which would have to dry out before work could proceed.

I came back from work one day to find the marble rim in place. It did dress up the balcony, gave it a touch of elegance. I still wasn't convinced it was necessary. That same night I was startled by a sound out on the scaffolding. I switched on a light and looked out at a young man. "I'm with the company," he said, backed off and went down the hatch. As he made his way down I heard him repeat his mantra. I wasn't the only one alarmed by a night apparition on the monster. 
Now my outdoor plants indoors are dying, my rooftop plants are drowning and the work is going on. For how long? Six months, they say.