C Line Tourist

The day was hot and humid and dull. One of those grey sky days that make me think I'll never see the sun again. It might last 12 hours, 24 hours or even longer. But, in the end, the clouds will lift and bring some welcome air.

I paid my bills at the rudest post office in the city. As if I needed more evidence of the latter, an old man was being shouted at by the manager, which made a mockery of the keep-your-distance privacy line. No one could help but hear. "No, you cannot cash that cheque. I see you have the account holders authorisation but you don't have any of her documents. You must bring....." she railed on as the old man staged a counter attack. My number pinged and I went to the till that was hidden behind a pillar.

I left the post office and walked up the street to the now tidied up junction at San Giovanni. This reminded me that the C line had finally connected with the A line. The inauguration on the 12th May had gone well, no one had hissed, booed or whistled at the Mayor as she delivered her predictable speech along the lines of a 'historic day' for the capital, 'a step towards the future,' and all the clichés that go with opening ceremonies.

People were even coming to the station to see the ancient Roman artefacts that had been excavated while the line was being built. It was a station museum.

A large moist drop of rain helped me decide. This was the historic day I would ride the C line to the end of the line at Pantano-Monte Compatri, according to my map, at the foot of the Albans hills.

I went down the stairs past the turn-stiles that led to the A line and into the clean new part of the station which was dotted with display cases. I had a brief look and noted that some of the broken ceramic dishes didn't look ancient. I took an escalator down into the depths as I descended I saw on the wall various painted markers indicating how deep I was and what that depth corresponded to in terms of Roman history.

The C line is deep down so unlike some of the shallow A line stations shouldn't flood, or at least not at the height of San Giovanni. As I discovered only the first 11 kilometres run underground while the latter 8 are above ground, and use part of an old existing railway track. Within the first weeks of opening the out lying stations, in 2014, leaks had sprung. It might have been one of the most expensive engineering projects in Europe in recent years but Rome's torrential rain had got the better of it.

I waited at the already crowded platform and noted the 10 minute frequency between trains. Was that good enough for a busy capital? The platform and track were separated by a glass wall with sliding doors. The train rolled in and the doors slid back. Passengers got off and others got on. It glided back into the dark tunnel.

The intercom wasn't working well so the voice was fuzzy announcing the stops. There were I noted 22 stops, a lot of stops. As I tried to get an idea from my phone map app of where I was heading I realised there wasn't an Internet signal. I closed the phone and sat back.

Twenty-five minutes in the train came out above ground which made things more interesting. I could look around. The sky was a shade greyer and the buildings dull. Blocks followed blocks, there were facades with peeling pink painted stucco, shabby balconies, sheets hanging out of windows, some green patches. The further we went from the centre the lower the buildings got, more and more of them looked like large converted villas that were now family-sized flats.
At a station a large screeching sound jolted me out of morose thoughts on just how dull the Roman periphery was. In the station an alarm rigged door had been opened. The same thing happened at the next station. There were no security guards that came running, in fact, most of the stations seemed deserted. Most passengers got off at the height of Tor Vergata, one of Rome's three universities. They would still have to get a bus if they wanted to reach any of the faculty buildings.
Eventually the train stopped at Pantano-Monte Compatri. I could see a line of large umbrella pines. When I reached ground level I saw they extended from the corner of a large car park. On the other side of the station was the infamous Casilina street, known for its massive traffic jams, accidents and passing through some of the city's less salubrious areas. It was raining now. There was in the end nothing to see here. The Castelli town of Monte Compatri was 6 kilometres away and there was no connecting bus.

I turned back towards the station, up the escalator and onto the platform. The next train was due in seven minutes. It was 40 minutes back to San Giovanni.

This time I sat at the front of the train. As the trains are fully-automated the front of the train is designed as a viewing platform. There's a large window and metal bar to hold on to for those who want to experience standing up the excitement of the C line metro. I sat on one of the plastic side benches. As we got closer to the center the train filled up and more passengers joined me in the carriage-with-a-view.

I noted along the way that some plants were growing inside the glass tunnel, they appeared to have forced through the seemingly clamped closed tunnel that surrounded the tracks.
Now, less than a month after the station opened at San Giovanni long predicted problems have arisen. During the rush hour passengers changing to the A line have been held up at the turn-stiles as the A line platforms have become dangerously over-crowded.
The C line project is not finished. It is supposed to connect with the Colosseum and the B line and may even one day end up on Piazza Venezia, funds allowing that is.

Fresh Spring Peas

People  moan that there are no more seasons. Yet, one place the seasons still exist are on the district markets. As the weather heats up the produce shifts. The winter artichokes dwindle away as the first broad beans appear. Around mid April peas will pile up on the stalls around the same time as asparagus start being discounted. There's a short window of time to make the Vignarola - Spring vegetable stew.

More and more tomatoes of different varieties take up space on the stalls: merinda, datterini, picadilly, ciliegine, canone, cuore di bue, green, red, yellow or black, smooth or wrinkled, round or oval, big or small with the queen of them all the pacchino. The plump deep purple aubergines that seem to thrive all year are joined by their slimmer counterparts. The dark winter courgettes are replaced by pale green courgettes still bearing their flowers. In another corner of the stall, large bunches of the zucchini flowers are gathered ready to be bought and stuffed for deep-fried Fiori di Zucca. The bitter leaves of the winter season get replaced by salads: small round ones, larger oval fronded Roman ones and curly fronded frisées. Spring onions and fragrant fresh garlic jostle for attention.

But what always draws my eye are the large heaps of fresh peas usually next to a large basket of fresh broad beans.To tell the truth, for many years fresh peas were not a vegetable I associated with Rome, they conjured up images of lamb with a mint sauce so very British, or the delicious p'etits pois à la française' that my mother would prepare in the late spring. I also hadn't realised that they are of the type blink and you'll miss 'em. In the Spring it's important to go to market as often as possible, skip a week and peas may all be gone!

Peas are the protagonists of  the famous 'risi e bisi' dish - the one I've dubbed the Italian rice dish that isn't a risotto. It is basically what it's name says it is, rice and peas. It is especially flavoursome if the stock used  comes from boiling the pea pods, however any vegetable stock may be used. It originates from the Veneto, the peas are the emblem of Spring while the rice symbolises fertility. It is traditional to eat it on the 25th April, the feast of San Marco.

In Puglia, in Altamura, the minestra di piselli di Altamura is made, combining peas with broken strands of spaghetti in a broth. Peas are also found in Sicilian arancini. (deep fried rice balls).  Or in various Spring soups. Or in oven baked sformati (soft moulded crustless pies) Or alongside cuttlefish. Or in Spring pasta dishes. Or with mint, even in Italy!  

After all, who doesn't like peas?