Our Man in Rome, Sorrento, and Capri — Part 1

Steve Newman at the Fountain of Trevi in Rome

Our recent trip to Italy was both a wonderfully energising event, and superbly relaxing, which seems to me to be the very essence of the Italian character. And no where is this more apparent than in Rome, Sorrento, and Capri.

Rome has little or no resemblance to any other city I know. It has the sprawl of London, but thankfully lacks what I can only describe as that hard, almost uncaring edge London has always had, and still nurtures. Some of Rome’s more recent architecture (1870s – 1890s) resembles Paris in its stylistic grandeur, but it’s a grandeur that, unlike Paris, is more worn at the edges, and delightfully warm to the touch, whereas Paris, like London, is a much colder, harder city. Don’t get me wrong I love Paris and London, love them dearly, but in Rome you feel at home, are made to feel at home; plus you have absolutely no doubt that you are at the centre, at the very heart, of one of the most influential empires ever known to man. The past – famous and infamous — is around every corner, as are the cafes - the wonderful cafes – and the hotels.

Hilary and I stayed at the Hotel Quirinale, at the top of the Via Nazionale, just before you reach the splendid Piazza della Repubblica, which, like just about every piazza in Rome has a fountain, and not just any old fountain, but a huge fountain resplendent with rearing horses and naked men and women vomiting water. Wonderful stuff. The Hotel Quirinale opened for business in 1870, and, apart from new lifts (the original cage affair is still in use) and some more recent plumbing, I doubt if it has changed much in the last 137 years, including the service, which is of the highest quality, as are the high ceilinged bedrooms and public rooms, and a secluded inner garden which has a private entrance – via a tunnel — to the nearby Opera House, with the consequence that the hotel has been host to many famous guests from the world of music over the years, not least Giuseppe Verdi, who stayed in the room below ours, after conducting his last opera, Falstaff.

Interior of the Hotel Quirinale

It’s just a wonderful place to be, with people talking in hushed tones (I like that), and where you feel Henry James, Puccini, or Ernest Hemingway, with Scott Fitzgerald on his arm, might walk in at any moment. Oh, and the Campari Sodas served in the ‘Green Bar’ are among the best we’ve ever tasted; the best are served by Thelma at The Shakespeare Hotel here in Stratford.

Soon after arriving on the Monday, and sampling the Campari Soda, we set out to discover as much of Rome as we could in the hours before dinner. So, heading down the Via Nazionale by foot we eventually found ourselves in the Giardini del Quirinale, which has a huge statue of Emanuele II in the centre of it (or was it Emanuele I ?) sat astride a horse that is at least forty hands high, which is a pretty big horse indeed, and a very big member of the Italian Royal Family too. All very camp. We then crossed the Via del Quirinale to the Palazzo de Quirinale, a wonderful 16th century palace built by Gregory XIII as a summer residence (and from where he could keep an eye on St Peters a mile or so away across the river), which is now the Office of the President, with official cars (all with blacked-out windows) coming and going every few minutes, each one accompanied by at least four motor-cycle cops blowing whistles and gesticulating, which can be very painful. All very operatic, very noisy, and very, very Italian.

After a bit of a rest in front of the palace we headed down hill, along a couple of narrow streets, one of which was the Via San Vinzenso, to come out by the Fontana di Trevi, which was heaving with people, including the same street sellers you get everywhere these days – including Stratford — selling over-priced crap novelties. But it was good to see the famous fountain, but alas no sign of Gregory Peck or Audrey Hepburn.

Then we found a superb cafe…ah, bliss.

To Be Continued…