Caput Mundi Mall: You'll have it all to Yourself--If you can Get There

 

We first learned about Caput Mundi, the new, luxury Rome shopping center that's a stone's throw from Saint Peter's, about a month ago, when it opened. The location seemed curious--elevated in an older building off via della Conciliazione--and we were eager to see how the developers had managed to squeeze a shopper's paradise into a crowded neighborhood of historic buildings. 

The best access, as we later learned, is down via Padre Pfeiffer Pancrazio--there's a less-than-spectacular sign for Caput Mundi at the end of that street. 

And beyond the sign, and closer to the front entrance, a less-than-inviting enclosure for the Carbinieri, taking something away from the welcoming Easter Egg. A typical hallway, ahead. 

But we missed what is intended to be the main entrance and found another, the "back door" entrance if you will, accessed off an underpass at Largo di Porta Cavalleggeri, almost directly south of the Vatican Obelisk. [It could be the "main" entrance is inside the "Gianicolo" bus parking garage - in an attempt to appeal to the thousands of tourists who "enter" the Vatican via tourist bus.]

On our back-door excursion: we found ourselves in a lengthy (estimate: 1/4 mile) passageway, gradually elevating as we trudged along, virtually alone, an occasional moving walkway assisting in the ascent. We thought maybe the architects had modeled this entrance after the Metro walkways we love so much. On the way we stopped at the restrooms--one marked WOMAN, the other MAN.

Heading on up to Caput Mundi. 

At the end of the trek, an elevator brought us to the 5th floor, the door opening onto: CAPUT MUNDI: THE MALL!

All on one floor, Caput Mundi has some of the feel of the most sophisticated of airport shopping areas: gleaming goods, perfectly arranged and presented: a bookstore, a candy shop, an upscale wine store, clothing of all kinds, several inviting places to eat, a pharmacy, a SONY pavilion where one can scratch the chin of an affectionate, responsive techno-dog, impressive art installations here and there (even a small exhibit of the work of Andy Warhol). A giraffe holding a lamp, or cage, or something, in its mouth. 

This says it all. In the foreground, a thinker-type art work. In the background, 
two workers taking advantage of the lack of customers to replace light bulbs.

Oops! A shopper!

Quite a place. Except....except there were no shoppers. Well, maybe a half dozen (high-end estimate). Maybe. A helpful clerk Dianne chatted up told us the lack of shoppers was par for the course, except on the weekend, which implies most shoppers are not tourists but Romans. Every shop has a clerk, every coffee shop or lunch space is complete with cooks and servers. But nobody to serve, nobody to cook for, nobody to buy anything. Well, not quite. Dianne made a stop at the para-pharmacy (all goods OTC).

Surreal. 

Bill 

Coochie Coochie

Quilted: Dealing with the Spring "'Chill," ala Romana

It's that in between season, when you don't know whether to bundle up or go for the lighter jacket. Romans know how to handle the spring chill: they're bubble wrapped, happy in their quilted outerwear. Based on a few informal surveys, about half--no joke--of our Re-di-Roma-area sample (or via Nazionale, as in the 2nd photo, or Valle Aurelia, as in the other non-manikin photos) were sporting quilted garb. It's a thing.

Bill 

Shopping for Gloves in Rome - One of Life's Little Pleasures

A work of art?  In some ways. In reality a few of the many gloves stacked floor to ceiling in the delightful, tiny Mieli glove store in central Rome.

Just off Piazza San Silvestro, this shop is a regular stop for me. I need leather gloves to ride on the scooter, and they get rather worn after a season of that use. So I head back every Spring to Mieli to buy a new pair, and pick a new color.  Last year dark green; this year vibrant purple.

In the same family hands since the 1920s, the store
features dozens of photos of luminaries, some with
notes to the owners.

The store is easy to miss, because it literally takes up about 15' square (5 m sq) of floor space.

Gloves of every style are on sale: lined with cashmere, lined with silk, unlined, fingers closed, fingers open, dappled leather, smooth leather, short, long.  The only requirements? Leather and gloves (guanti) and "made in Italy."

You'll see Josephine Baker, Gregory Peck and Gina Lollobrigida, Enrico Caruso, on what little wall space remains.

The affable salesclerk told me about the family's long-time ownership. An older woman came in while we were talking and sat in the one chair.  At the time, I didn't have the guts to engage her in a conversation, but I should have.  She's a current owner.

The prices are reasonable.  My rather long (protect those hands and wrists!) purple unlined leather gloves were about 40 Euros ($44 today).

Mieli Gloves, via di San Claudio, 70; tel. 06 678 5979. hours generally 10:30 a.m. - 7:30 p.m. (except Mondays opens at 2; closed Sundays).

And not too far from Orologeria Senzacqua, where I get leather watch bands.

Dianne

Shopping again in Rome - a feast for the eyes

Part of the sweets counter at our favorite coffee bar/pasticceria (pastry shop) off Piazza Mazzini.
Do you believe all those jells and marzipan, not to mention the mini cakes?

My number came up at "Piccolo Forno" (which means "small oven" or
in essence a baked goods shop).

Back to shopping.  This time not signs, but sights - some of the ones that make us drool, make us buy, make us look, make us crazy.

In addition to the delectable-looking sweets above, we enjoyed scanning the many breads and other foods in this not-so-small Piccolo Forno (photo left), which had just about any kind of prepared food (stuffed tomatoes? pasta? salami?), along with breads and rolls. It attracted a crowd, as you can see.  We had to figure out how to take a number and wait our turn (not the easiest thing to do among Italians). Only about 1/3 of the counter space is shown in this photo.  The forno was in a large indoor public market.

Hoverboard shopper checking out at our local
(when we lived in the Salaria neighborhood)
small-sized Carrefour market. Notable and
customary - the cashier sits rather than stands;
you bag your own groceries; you pay for the bag
 (as now in New York and Los Angeles).
Re the customer - he's on a board that lights up.

Besides vistas of incredibly tasting looking offerings, there are strange sights, like the shopper at left on a "hoverboard."  In trying to figure out if this was even legal in Rome (it shouldn't be; we pedestrians need to survive), I learned that, although the vendors have gone out of business where we live in Los Angeles, the state of California allows these devices. And in London apparently one can buy them, but they are banned under the 1835 Highways Act, which states people cannot use the footway (sidewalk? marciapiedi?) to “lead or drive any horse, ass, sheep, mule, swine, or cattle or carriage of any description” which list apparently includes hoverboards.

One of the crowded aisles in a "casalinghi"
store.

We typically spread our food shopping among large (not in the US sense) markets, small markets, chains, family-run places, and mini markets (the last about which we've written before - many run by Egyptians and Bangladeshi). One of our go-to places for non-food items is the "casalinghi" or "housewares" store. In Rome, these are almost all run by Chinese immigrants, and carry very inexpensive (as well as pretty flimsy) goods of all types - think Dollar Stores (photo right).  The aisles are always crammed and narrow, and often you have to ask one of the store employees (who speak varying levels of Italian) where something is.  And someone in the store can find in a nook or cranny somewhere that child's potty chair, those hangers, or that candle. Bill and I still recall being in a casalinghi and asking for candles. The woman at the register yelled at the top of her lungs "candele!, candele!", and out popped another employee leading us to the candles "section" of the store.

And, finally (for this shopping installment), below is a sight from the Centro - the center of old Rome where there are still artisan shops. Here the proprietor is advertising and showing off his or her goods by hanging them outside, in front of the store, on an "Ape" truck (we've written about the "ape" - or "bee" truck previously - it sounds like a bee with its tiny motor and 3 wheels).

You might also note here the bicycle tucked into a parking space behind a scooter, and the Ape tucked into a space supposedly limited to scooter parking, taking up an area that would hold 4-6 scooters (when you drive a scooter
- and have to park it - you notice these things).

Dianne

"Smucinate," and other Signs of Shopping in Rome

Tourist citations of inept menu descriptions or botched foreign language translations are standard fare.  And we are not immune to enjoying the signs of petty capitalism (though we do avoid posting on menu infelicities).  Below, some of our favorite ones from this year.

You won't find this word in an Italian-English dictionary, but you will find at least some definitions of "smucinare"
 in a good Italian dictionary.  Here - at this mixed items stall in a street market - it means "Rummage at will." 
Apparently "smucinare" has some other meanings that aren't appropriate for a family blog.

The sign that accompanies these Zippo reading glasses (a good buy in Rome - about Euro 5 each, and they have 3.0s) mashes English and Italian, of course, and uses the classic Italian phrase "Buon..." whatever (as in "buon apetito," "buon giorno," "buon natale") translated - as it sometimes can be - to "happy," and "vista" = sight.  So, Happy Sight!
I also like the colors of the glasses and their cases, of which I now own a few.

This sign is appealing for its play on the Italian verb, to walk or to take
a walk, "camminare."  It's done here with an Indian style writing
and also an Indian-like spelling that ends up sounding the same
as "camminare."  And, of course, it's the name of a - in English-
tour operator.

Can't resist this one - "Torno subito" - or "Back soon."
To which our usual response is, "yeah, sure."

What I like about this photo is the services offered by a more-or-less permanent
street stand.  The hand-printed sign at left (and see below) basically says "we deliver."
  I had a nice chat with the owner - from whom I bought only a bottle of water. 
He was fascinated to know where we were from (we were in the Africano quarter,
which doesn't host a lot of tourists; it's name comes from the street names, which were
created when Italy was in the process of conquering - or failing to conquer - north Africa;
streets such as Somalia and Libia); the shop owner was an immigrant, obviously hard-working.

And then marijuana comes to Rome:

Dianne

Truck Shopping in Rome

The 'shop'  name is "Melandra...Moving Shop." The "ape" or "bee" is a
3-wheel commercial vehicle, based on the Vespa scooter and produced,
as is the Vespa ("wasp"), by Piaggio.  I once said we mainly saw them in
the countryside, but maybe not!

The joys of shopping in Rome, for us, are mainly the visuals.  We love looking at the multitude of ways in which petty capitalism operates in this city of 3 million people. A method new to us this year was the mobile clothes store.  Yes, we have pop-ups in the U.S., but the Italians as usual, take it one step further.



We had seen vendors selling batteries (see photo towards the end of this post), glasses, flowers, fruits and vegetables out of trucks.  But a mini clothing store? That was new.


The "ape" trucks  above and below were parked in and close by the large Piazza Mazzini near our apartment this Spring, and came around periodically to sell their wares - and the Italians were buying.

Quite a combination of Italian and English words here, plus a take off : "Fruit of the Loom" (right), then "Fruit on the Road" (left). We didn't check  to see if the goods were authentic or knock-offs, but we can guess.

Below, not a shopping truck per se, but likely a delivery truck for a Sicilian (mostly) take-out restaurant in Prati (near where we lived).  Unfortunately, we never got there, but the arancini look amazing! (To say "arancini" are stuffed rice balls doesn't do them justice.)

The paintings are of Orlando and Rinaldo dueling for Angelica's heart in the classic "Orlando Furioso"
tale.  The story resonates with Sicily and the Sicilian puppet tradition, emphasizing these arancini
are going to be Sicilian to their rice core. The restaurant name is MondoArancina - with an "a" at the end,
 apparently the Sicilian spelling. The truck enlivens an otherwise rather soulless piazza in della Vittoria.

And then there's the use of a Fiat 500 to sell vinegars--again, just down from our apartment.

"Wine without sulfites...Wine and apple vinegar..." etc.
And, apparently, he doubles as a clown at night.

This van houses an Orologeria, a store that sells watch-bands and watch batteries.
A piazza in San Paolo.  Eager customers, including me. 

And, left, not exactly shopping from or out of a truck, but shoe sellers who use their truck to carry all the shoes and the stands and tents they put up to sell - they do this every day of the week - up in the morning, down in the evening.

I thought the arrangement of shoe boxes could have stumped a Rubik's cube expert.

Dianne

Bill has also written about some of Rome's trucks and vans:
https://romethesecondtime.blogspot.com/2012/02/tiny-trucks-of-rome.html
https://romethesecondtime.blogspot.com/2011/08/white-vans-of-rome.html

All Saints All the Time - Shopping in the Vatican Stores.

Enter here

There's something about the multiplicity in the shops across from St. Peter's that appeals to me.  I love the saints in some odd alphabetical order, above, with their traditional icons at hand.  Cristina, Chiara, Cecilia next to each other, then Benedetta and Catarina, followed by Agnese and Agata. Okay, not normal alphabetical order, but some kind of order.  The photos below provide some additional buon vistas (good viewing).  Dianne

Some prefer medallions.  These also are in alphabetical order, in bins.. 



Of course, Padre Pio always gets his own showing.

And then there are the general Roma souvenirs, even in the Vatican stores

An overall view of the store - in the Galleria S. Pietro, across from Bernini's colonnade. 

Balocco: Big-Top Architecture in Rome

Weird inside and out.  It's Balocco, also known as Rocco Balocco, and it's usually described as a toy store, but also as a seller of baby gear and furniture.  You could buy clothes there, too.

If you've been to Eataly in Ostiense, you've seen the funky building, because it's only a few meters from Eataly's main entrance, across the street.

Last spring we sucked it up and went inside (knowing we weren't thinking about buying anything) and took a few photos.  Other-worldly one might say.  Circus architecture (as if that were a thing). 1980s??  Zany postmodernism?

Gloomy interior.  Odd, given the abundance of natural light. 

A Roman friend said this Balocco is one of several in a small chain of stores, and that the chain had been for sale for years and is now on its last legs.  One internet site claims it's closed, another suggests it's open.

Run, don't walk--to Balocco!

Bill