No, America doesn't have history, it has character.

You want history? Try walking into the Colisseum and feeling old. (FYI, the Roma Pass is worth the money for skipping the lines to both the Colisseum and Forum alone. Seriously. Why waste your precious foot power on standing in line?) With construction starting in, oh, 70-72 AD it's hard to see American history as deep and long standing. Walking through the corridors and around the peritmeter I kept thinking about the people who worked on the buildings. (I visited part of the Roman Forum, as well.) Every fluted cornice, flowered edge, grooved corner, carved letter made me think of the hands that created each item. The skill and precision, great enough to last, literally, thousands of years. I would love to leave a mark like that on our world. And I am not talking about using styrofoam to create my great legacy.

Sitting inside the Forum (it seems redundant to call in the Roman Forum...) I sketched the Basillica of Fulvia-Amelia and listened to the families wander past. Everyone seems to flow along at the same sort of steady pace. Built for looking, but not too close, moving, but not too fast. The Tourist Walk.  I listened to families chat about the odd cat wandering through the ruins, in places where mere tourists\mortals are no longer allowed to tread. I contemplated the oddness of an an entire city center becoming abandoned enough to go to ruin. There is something fascinating in the contrast between the soft, fleshy, impermanent bodies wandering through the grounds and the tenacious durability of the ruins themselves. it boggles me, given human tendency toward use and sprawl, that this complex came to be an empty monument, rather than a thriving, occupied part of the metropolis.

I sat and watched the crowds around Trevi Fountain, not once, but twice. In the afternoon the crowds seemed evenly spread across the fountain. In the evening the crowd was more concentrated at the front. Seeing dozens and dozens of people performing the ritual of throwing coins over their shoulders I thought about why they did it. What they knew of the legends and superstitions. I watched people creating group shots. A constant flow of excited folks up and down the surrounding stairs. The come, they toss, they snap, they leave. Although my butt was freezing from sitting on the travertine ledge I was glad to sit and watch awhile. Once the sun had gone down there was something different in the air. It seemed more romantic. More magical. Though I don't really understand what it is about night time that does that. The lights were gentle, the water all shiny. I saw a dude steal some coins (bastard) but other than that people were polite, excited, and quick.

I found a little place for dinner that struck the desired balance of price\size\proximity to the metro\offerings to win me over. The food wasn't amazing but the atmosphere was great. Families, couples, obvious friends of the owners. It was warm and warmly lit. They served the wine with a tiny clay pitcher. The gnochi was perfectly cooked. And now, once more, I must sleep. Awesome day. And several more to come.

I will have to do some picture-heavy posts when I get home. Tranfering them while I am here is a giant time suck.