Roma

Before coming to Rome, I heard from people who had visited or studied here their many opinions of the city, and the general consensus wasn’t quite what one would expect. For one of the most famous cities in the world, it didn't seem like anyone had anything nice to say.

“It’s touristy”

“It’s crowded”

“It’s dirty”

I would be lying if I said it didn’t make me a little nervous, but the criticisms seemed poorly thought out, and as I mentioned in my previous blog post, I promised myself that I would keep in open mind.  

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Sunday morning I woke up at 4:45 AM. The air outside my apartment was cool, and in the quieter suburbs of the city only the sound of birds could be heard over the whisper of the gas stove. I kept the lights off and was sure to be quiet so as not to disturb my soon-to-be-hungover roommates. I sat in silence eating my toast and sipping my coffee, waiting for the night bus that would take me to my friends hostel.

I pulled on my coat and stepped out of my apartment building into the stillness of the plaza. The eeriness would have bothered me in any other city, but it doesn’t here. The dark stillness of the dawn can be disconcerting in many places, but in Rome it just doesn’t feel that way. It’s peaceful.

The bus arrived shortly, and I was soon being whipped through the dark streets with the same terrifying rattle and shake and high velocity that one would expect from Roman bus drivers. I met my friend (shout out Margaret Bickley) around 6:15 and we hurried to the metro to get to the Piazza del Populo where the sun would soon be rising over the city. 

The normally bustling Piazza was empty, save for the occasional seagull. We were worried we had missed the sunrise, but we ascended the final steps towards the top of the Piazza just in time. The soft yellow lights of Saint Peters Basilica glowed in the distance, and the morning bells of the cathedrals echoed through the streets. For a city of 2.7 million people, Rome was quiet. Calm. 

Our goal was to make it to the Vatican early, as entrance is free for the last Sunday of the month. Satisfied with the early morning views, We started heading that way, and made our way through empty streets, searching for any cafeteria where we could get a croissant. Finally we found one, and despite it being early on a weekend morning, we received the same patience and understanding for not speaking Italian that I always get from people here. 

Although I had been in Rome for about 3 weeks by this point, I had yet to visit the Vatican. I wish someone had grabbed me by the collar and yelled in my face, insisting I visit it the first thing I arrived here. In fact, I heard more people say “you can see Rome in a day” (Spoiler alert: they’re wrong) and talk about how much they liked the Pantheon or the Trevi Fountain more.

I felt lucky to have experienced the Vatican while it was mostly empty. Like the rest of the city, the basilica was quiet and calm, seemingly unaware of its own magnificence. As we passed through the vestibule into the sanctuary, Michelangelo’s Pietá sculpture sat quietly in the corner, its depiction of Mary holding her dying son appearing real, almost alive. We walked further into the hall, feeling insignificant to the sheer majesty of it.

"You are Peter, and on this rock I will build my Church, to you I will give the keys of the kingdom of heaven"

I didn’t bother to take any more pictures on the inside. I was so blown away that I couldn’t take a second to stop looking at all of it, let alone pull out my camera. Pictures wouldn't do it justice anyway. Many people were tearing up, many were praying. A group of nuns walked past me as I stared in awe at the magnitude of the altar that towered above. Small congregations of mass gathered together under beautifully intricate depictions of the gospels. Margaret and I both felt that we could have spent hours looking at the inside of the basilica, but we agreed we should climb to the top of the dome before it got busy. We did so, taking a 600 step journey that would have been much less peaceful had the normal horde of tourists been around. We stepped out onto the small balcony, and looked out towards the city.

Basically every block of Rome, no matter the wealth of the neighborhood, is covered in graffiti. There are cigarette butts on the ground everywhere and plenty of trash latching to every curb. The buses and metro are gross, and streets are worn down and broken. Below us in the city center, the tranquility of a few hours before had given way to the typical chaos. Tourists lined up around the block. Cars honked loudly in traffic. Dense crowds packed every street corner. You could say the critics were right. Yet, while I stood on the dome of the Saint Peters Basilica, none of that seemed to matter. As I looked out towards the epicenter of the greatest empire this world has ever seen, towards the inspiration of some of the most amazing artwork, architecture, and music mankind has ever produced, towards a city with endless culture and history around every corner, those criticisms felt petty. Rome is touristy. It’s crowded. It’s dirty. Like humanity itself, it is imperfect, and it is ugly. But when I took a step back and gazed upon the overwhelming beauty of it, those imperfections seemed to lose their significance.

The Life of Pablo (Picasso)

So it's been about a month since I've posted. I’m sorry you all have had to wait this long. It’s like Kanye’s new album, but luckily for you it’s not on Tidal. While you were sitting on the edge of your seat waiting for this post , I was studying at the Universidad de Salamanca, spending some time with fellow IB students in Madrid, and flying solo to Barcelona. I’ll use this post to give the ‘low down’ and my thoughts on the three locations.

Madrid

Maybe it’s because Madrid isn’t a great city for tourists, maybe it’s because the weather was bad, or maybe I just got unlucky with my experience, but Madrid was not my copa de té. The city felt entirely void of any personality. The culinary creations of menu del días, paella, and tortilla left a lot to be desired and by the end of 9 days or so the unending rows of white buildings were about as appealing as shag carpets and wood paneling. Unlike the other cities I’ve visited, I’ve never looked down a street and stopped to just go ‘wow’.

Palacio Real de Madrid

It seems, however, that I’m very much in the minority with this opinion. I basically got yelled at by a foreign exchange student from Fort Worth for saying “I just didn’t like the vibes” of Madrid. Apparently there’s some sort of passionate love for the city I’m missing. That’s not to say I don’t think it has a lot of desirable qualities. The city is very social, and incredibly accessible (seriously, I couldn’t find a single block that was more than a 5 minutes walk from a metro stop), and there’s never a time of day where people aren’t out drinking a café con leche or just sitting around doing nothing (which they do a lot). It is also only a quick bus trip away from Toledo, an incredible old city famous for being a refuge of religious freedom for many years. 

The Cathedral of Toledo

Salamanca

I studied here for almost a month, so I feel a bit more in touch with Salamanca. It’s a quaint old Catholic on the way west to Portugal from Madrid. It has a lot of culture, history, and is always buzzing with local people on their way to whichever coffee or tapas shop that is down the street. La Universidad de Salamanca is one of the oldest universities in the world and they’ve preserved the over 800 year old buildings very well.

La Plaza Mayor, Salamanca

While I was there, I stayed for three weeks with a family who were all incredibly hospitable and wonderful to stay with. 

(Protip: For any IB students studying Spanish who don’t end up going to a Spanish speaking country, you can do a 2 or 3 week program here in January if your program starts later like mine did. It was perfect. Seriously, talk to the study abroad office. Now. Go. Don’t let your dreams be dreams.)

You get a truly genuine Spanish cultural experience in Salamanca. The smaller towns are much less globalized and more set in their ways than Madrid and Barcelona so you get a 'real' view of the local culture. This can be a good and bad thing, because on one hand you get a siesta in the middle of the day and on the other you have to eat at 2:30 and 9:30 p.m. It makes no sense, I don’t know I just didn’t ask questions.

Barcelona

It’s hard to blame Barcelona for thinking they’re the best part of Spain. The works of Gaudi are impressive and unique, the beaches are as close as you could want, and the views are jawdropping. After only a quick bus trip to the Carmel stop, you can find this perfect view of the city seamlessly fusing the Mediterranean Sea into the rolling hills of Montserrat. Seriously, just look at it.

View from the Bunkers of the Spanish Civil War

The city had a very unique personality and genuine buzz about it. The streets were teeming with locals and tourists alike, and each and every street corner possessed hidden gems of architecture, shops, and restaurants. The buses go everywhere and getting around was incredibly easy. The hostel I stayed at (Saint Jordi Rock Hostel) was a great experience and I had the chance to meet people traveling from all over the world. I can not say more good things about this city.  

Parc de la Ciutadella, Barcelona

My only legitimate criticism was the fact that Catalan was their official language (be French or be Spanish, you can’t be both), but it was only a minor problem because almost everyone spoke Spanish anyway. Also, because it is a large tourist city, you have to watch out for pickpocketers. The French and British guys I were with almost got robbed by an old lady trying to hand them a flower. Yeah, even the nice old people can’t be trusted. 

Rome

Stay tuned for next week's post...