How Not To Come Off Monte Mario

 

We 2 "pilgrims" reflected in the glass of the now-closed Lo Zodiaco cafe'

at the top of Monte Mario. Great views still available.

Never ones to shy away from hard truths, your RSTers went last year to mourn at the site of the now-closed Lo Zodiaco cafe' (the bar also is closed). Not long ago, it was a lovers' (and families' and anyone liking a good view) hangout (- he path along the front of it is called "vialetto degli Innamorati" ["Lovers' Lane"]).

We walked up our usual way, from via Gormezzina, near Piazzale Maresciallo Giardino (admitttedly around a closed gate - but the "herd path" was clear), enjoying the wide switchbacks on sampietrini (cobblestones) mostly maintained by the non-profit RomaNatura (the informational boards along the way now are mostly destroyed). (Monte Mario came in at #11 on RST's Top 40, and is an itinerary in our guidebook, Rome the Second Time.)

We checked out the usual cafes in Piazzale delle Medaglie d'Oro (at the end of it, you can see signs for the via Francigena--St. Francis's way, now tantalizingly close to its Vatican destination). Then, in hindsight foolishly, we decided to take the paths that ran down and across the winding, very curvy, not always well-banked road we had scootered down several times, but also had walked down: viale dei Cavalieri di Vittorio Veneto, just below the Hotel Rome Cavalieri.

MAP AT END OF POST

Except the paths seemed to be nonexistent, and we found ourselves plastered against the retaining walls in an effort not to be run over.

Left photo, paths in bad shape.

Friends to whom we described our trek later that night said, "oh, you mean K-2"--that's the name for this outrageously speedy and dangerous separated "highway."

Right photo, Dianne hesitates as any shoulder is about to disappear.

Left photo. No shoulders - or even ditches or brush - wide enough to feel safe.

On closer inspection, the road we just came down on still sports a slogan to the Lazio Ultra (generally right-wing) Gabriele Sandri, killed in 2007 (hence the "Vive"), about whom Bill posted in 2011 here.

We finally got off this road on via Romeo Romei, which skirts the back of (more like a parking lot for) the national Appeals Court. It was under heavy scaffolding on the day we walked by.

All of which is to say, we won't do this one again!

Map below shows Piazzale delle Medaglie d'Oro at top left, Lo Zodiaco (as if it were still open) top center, and the walking path switchbacks leading up to it going off at right.

The big curvy dark stuff in the center was "our path," i.e. the road, leading down to the Corte d'Appelo.

No, don't try this yourselves.

Dianne

The Asphalt Jungle: Rome's Sidewalks

Rome has lousy sidewalks.  Yes, sidewalks. 

Americans may be shocked to learn that sidewalks are not the same world wide (as if RST could claim familiarity with the world's sidewalks).  There are places--and Rome is one of them--where those familiar concrete rectangles, placed one after the other--do not exist.

A sidewalk of sampietrini, on viale Trastevere

There are some handsome sidewalks in Rome.   Here and there, especially in or near the city center, one finds sidewalks fashioned of handsome modern paving blocks, others of sampietrini.  The one at the right is lovely, but the stones can come loose, leading to expensive repairs (or no repairs) [see photo at end].

Piazza Vittorio

Under its porticos, Piazza Vittorio (left) has a colorful sidewalk in the terrazzo style. 

But by and large, the preferred sidewalk material in the Eternal City is anything but eternal: it is asphalt.  Asphalt makes some sense as a paving material for the city's streets; it is smoother and provides better traction than the lovely but impractical sampietrini that fill so many roadways, and scooter riders can now enjoy a less bumpy, safer, and more predictable ride on--for example--large sections of the Lungotevere, the city's main north-south artery.  So streets are one thing. 

Monteverde Vecchio.  A dog's world.  They are all wealthy.

And sidewalks another.  And surprisingly, the city's sidewalks are mostly asphalt.  Even in elegant neighborhoods, like Monteverde Vecchio, where an average condominium sells for a million dollars.




We don't know why this is so.  Perhaps in Rome the difference between the cost of asphalt and the cost of cement is substantial, or larger than elsewhere.  Perhaps, in a city where many prefer to walk in the streets, sidewalks are an understandable afterthought.  Perhaps the asphalt sidewalk is just another sign of how little Italians care for, or take responsibility for, anything beyond their own homes and apartments.    

There is one advantage to asphalt.  The dark, undivided surface is good to write on, and Rome's bards have taken advantage, letting the sidewalks speak of Giovanni's obsession with Maria, of Massimo's with Chiara, of Vittorio's with Frederika, and so on.

Otherwise, the asphalt sidewalks are a failure.  They are hard to clean (not that Romans are out there scrubbing away).  See right.












Compared to cement, they are hardly level even when new.   The thin layer of asphalt breaks up into pieces and holes.  Ugliness abounds.  Dangers loom. 









 But it is more than that.  There is something dispiriting, degrading, even disgraceful, about an asphalt sidewalk.  That would be true in Peoria, but it is especially true in Rome, where the elegance of the past is everywhere. 

Rome deserves better.
Bill

Sidewalks of sampietrini can be handsome, and they have
historical resonance, but they are hardly indestructible.