DAYS FIFTY-SIX TO FIFTY-EIGHT - 04/05/2020- 06/05/2020
Reader, I did it! It was unsettling, rather stressful and felt completely alien, but I did it: I went out for a walk. The first day, I achieved a tentative five kilometres; yesterday, a slightly bolder six; today I found my feet and completed a hip-aching thirteen kilometres.
Initially, I was nervous. The weather was glorious and I was sure the newly-reopened parks would be packed with Romans, eager to enjoy their new-found freedom. Unfortunately, I was right: despite waiting until after lunchtime, it seems everyone had the same idea and headed to the park. It was an uncomfortable experience, all round: the stress of having to dodge parents pushing prams, teenagers (in groups) on bikes, joggers huffing and puffing their way past (definitely breaching the 2-metre distance) with no mask on, all the while feeling too hot and restricted in my own mask… it wasn’t at all pleasant. I abandoned the park after approximately half an hour, as I just couldn’t relax. Thankfully, Circus Maximus provided a much calmer, enjoyable setting in which to spend the early evening. I returned home feeling wobbly and uncertain, but at least I managed a change of scene.
The second outing took me through the streets of Trastevere. Just across the river from here, the cobbled alleyways of this neighbourhood are usually full to the brim with tourists and locals alike, but yesterday they were alarmingly quiet. Almost unrecognisable, the many restaurants and bars had their shutters down. Only one or two small, take-away pizza places were open, and the usually buzzing squares were deserted. I wandered around for a while, but seeing people scurry past, avoiding eye contact - and obviously all physical contact - with each other, was just a bit too sad. A dear friend noticed the same thing, telling me that she too has found going outside “sad and hard and people kind of judgey”, lately.
On my way home, I saw a couple locked in such a passionate embrace that it was clear they had not seen each other for the last 60 days, or so. He was on a bicycle; she had arrived on foot. I wondered if they were secret lovers, and this their first stolen moment together, in months. They didn’t notice anyone else pass by, kissing as if there were no tomorrow. I stopped off at one last spot before returning home, in the main square of my neighbourhood. A little fruit and vegetable shop that I often buy produce from was still open, having been allowed to extend its opening hours as of Monday. I bought some fresh fruit and a bunch of basil, in a nod to the summery weather, and slowly walked home, savouring every last drop of fresh air.
Emboldened by the previous day’s more successful recce, I decided that today was a day for a grander adventure. At around 10 o’ clock this morning, I put on my running shoes and set off along the river, towards the centre of town - about two and a half kilometres from my house. The trees along the path were bursting with vivid green leaves, providing shade from the warm sun, reflecting onto the slow-flowing Tiber. In around half an hour, I was at my destination: a side street just off the Campo de’ Fiori, where my friend Toni was waiting for me. We had arranged to “bump into” each other there, so that she could sneakily hand me a package, containing an extremely generous portion of not one but two kinds of lemon tart, made by her fair (and extremely talented) hand. Although this is technically frowned upon, we kept our distance, both had protective masks, and only stayed long enough to enjoy a take-away espresso standing in the street, several feet apart. We both agreed how novel and refreshing it was to get out of the house, and to greet a friend. It felt like a tiny slice of normality, amidst the chaos.
When we parted ways, I continued my way north towards Piazza Navona, hearing nothing but my own footsteps echoing in the street. It’s hard to describe the feeling of witnessing something you know has never been seen before, and is unlikely to be so again. If you’ve ever been to Rome, you’ll know that this piazza is one of the busiest in the city, normally swarming with tourists, street vendors, school groups and waiters loudly coaxing hungry foreigners into restaurants for an overpriced pizza. But today, I could count on one hand the number of people in the square: dog walkers and cyclists - Romans playing tourist in their own city. We all stopped to take photos and videos of the scene, marvelling at how quiet it was. I often think that Rome is like one big film set, but today more so than ever.
A short while later I wandered through the Jewish quarter, pausing to admire one of my favourite fountains in the city:la fontana delle tartarughe. This time, I was completely alone in the square, smiling to myself - until another girl cycled past, also smiling to herself when she saw the fountain. We caught each other’s eye and laughed, as she exclaimed “Che meraviglia!” (“How marvellous!”). “Bellissima!”, I agreed, as she cycled off.
I took photos along the way, hoping to record memories of such a unique moment in time, as I carried on towards the Pantheon, then on to the Colosseum, Roman Forum and Piazza Venezia. Each proved more breathtaking than the other, in the absence of (the normally omnipresent) crowds. I saw only a smattering of people on bikes, and several empty buses driving round and round, reminding me of a giant model railway that someone forgot to switch off. It was all rather bittersweet, but incredibly beautiful - possibly the most beautiful Rome has ever looked, in the nine years I’ve lived here - and I felt privileged to be part of it. Although my legs were aching after nearly 13 kilometres, I couldn’t bear to go home, so I took a long detour via Circus Maximus, sitting down on the grass to take it all in.
I had thought that the easing of lockdown restrictions wouldn’t affect me much, but after today’s walk, I feel supremely grateful for this new, albeit small, degree of freedom. While I still won’t be going out every day, and will be avoiding the parks in favour of the quieter city centre, I am already looking forward to my next jaunt around the very peaceful Eternal City.
That's a lovely piece Emma - you seem to capture the spirit of your adventure perfectly. You paint in words.