Oranges and lemons

"Oranges and lemons rang the bells of St. Clement's"I think. I'm walking past the local discount supermarket and the orange trees are bearing their usual crop. As ever the first line of an old nursery rhyme pops into my head. I've forgotten the rest . I look it up. It ends on a particular grisly note: "Here comes the chopper to chop off your head." How could I have forgotten that? 

In this season oranges and lemons are everywhere. I walk to the enclosed park where my dog runs free and I notice, in the courtyards of the condominium complexes I pass, lemon and orange trees all with heavily laden branches. Some have fallen on the pavement and split open. 

 I climb a flight of stairs in Garbatella and sitting jauntily on a wall is a lone lemon. I glance upwards and sure enough there's another fruit full tree.

In Rome, the most famous place for oranges is the orange garden (giardino degli aranci aka Parco Savello) on the Aventine hill.


The garden is next to the Basilica of Santa Sabina. To the left of the entrance to the garden is a striking fountain. The latter half is an old Roman basin whereas affixed to the wall with water gushing from its mouth into the basin, is a large ornamental marble mask which had originally been designed by Giacomo della Porta for a cattle market (Campo Vaccino) in the centre of Rome.

Thanks to accumulated dirt caused by the flow of water from its mouth it now looks as if the stern face is vomiting into the ancient Roman basin. Time for a clean up.

Beside the gate on entering the small enclosed park and at various intervals there are notices with the park rules: no walking on the grass, no dogs without leashes, no playing ball games etc....

 In the Spring, the garden is a popular place for newly weds to come and have their photos taken. In Winter it is quiet. When I went, on separate benches two down and outs were having a kip, couples walked hand in hand and tourists admired the view from the central terrace high above the fast flowing road alongside the Tiber. In the background but faint were the cries and shouts of young children from a nearby primary school.

The alleys are gravel lined. Small orange dots, some an exploded pulpy mess lie on the gravel. Sour oranges that have fallen off their trees. The discarded peel, left lying where it fell despite numerous small bins in the park, also shows that some visitors have sampled the oranges.

The orange trees are planted in lines and enclosed in grassy areas where no one is allowed to go without permission. I have been told that it's possible to pick the fruit for a fee . But there seems to be one about:  no park guard to enforce the rules, nor anyone to take money and oversee the picking of the fruit.

The park is on the site of an ancient castle, one of the bordering walls used to surround the castle, and an old fortress which belonged to the Savelli family. The castle was given to the Dominican Order of Santa Sabina who transformed it into a monastery.

Nowadays visitors come to the orange garden to marvel at the view from its terrace. From the terrace in the distance the dome of St Peter's stands out as does more closely the synagogue. Just opposite the terrace the distinctive ochre and sienna red  warehouses in Trastevere can be seen, to their right and above is the Gianiculum hill and in the middle of the Tiber, the boat shaped Tiber island... There are so many things to see, it's a view worth making the trip for. 
Of couse, Rome is a very small producer of citrus fruit. Condominium courtyards and balconies may hold a small treasure trove of them but the South is where they are cultivated en masse. Sicily and Calabria have vast orange, citron and lemon groves. The cultivation of citrus fruit is important for these impoverished regions.

In the North of the country, in Ivrea at Carnival in February is held the annual battle of the oranges. Battling factions of the town pitch oranges, often rejects of the export market, at each other. The roads and squares of the city turn to a pulpy slush.  
On the shores of Lake Garda, after a long interlude, cultivation of a rarer sort of orange is increasing whereas in Liguria the citrus fruit used to make the drink 'chinotto' are grown. Italians are fond of chinotto. It is an acquired taste. In appearance it looks like a type of cola, but there's a bizarre bitter after taste, reminiscent of lemon pith with an aromatic tint to it.
For those who would like to find out more about citrus fruit in Italy I would recommend reading Helena Atlee's award-winning book.