Living in a city that isn’t yours
My morning work commute in Rome is very pleasant. Starting in piazzale Flaminio, I cycle through the historic centre of town, first crossing piazza del Popolo, going down via Ripetta which becomes via della Scrofa passed the Ara Pacis until I reach Palazzo Madama, home of the Italian Senate. If I have a little spare time, I stop at St Eustacchio for a coffee. That usually puts me in a good mood for the rest of the day. There’s nothing like a good coffee and this is the best in Rome. A visit early in the morning when nobody is around is particularly pleasurable. Back on my bike, I cycle along Piazza Navona to make my way to Campo de Fiori through back lanes to avoid the main square. I pass via Giulia and take the old Ponte Sisto to cross the Tiber. When the weather is good and the sun shining, the ride is a delight as I get to see at leisure some of Rome’s most famous sites. In these moments, I feel the city is mine. I continue through the narrow cobblestone streets of Trastevere, which have just been washed and still gleam in the morning sun. The shops, boutiques and restaurants are closed apart from a couple of cafés where locals have their breakfast. I sometimes get a whiff of freshly baked bread from one of the old bakeries. I eventually reach the larger Viale Trastevere, where city life is about to begin with street stalls (the famous bancarelle) being installed with the background noise of metal shutters from nearby stores re-opening. Another day is beginning in the eternal city. After a 15-minutes ride on the lengthy and indistinct viale Trastevere, I reach the station to take my train to the office. It is quite far out in a business park called Parco de Medici’, half- way between the city centre and Fiumicino airport.
At the end of the day, around 6pm, I take the same journey back in the opposite direction. I exit at Trastevere station and get on my bike to return to the city centre. Now the picture has changed and a true inferno is about to begin. The city has been taken over by hordes of tourists moving about like an invading army. As soon as I hit Trastevere, I have to zigzag between various groups which move in an annoying stop-and-go manner, not paying attention to their immediate surroundings, deafened as they are by the earphones they’ve plugged in to listen to their respective guide. There’s a red group and a green one, and a little further on a yellow one. They wear a scarf or a cap of that same colour to recognise each other. They each come from a different region of the world and speak a different language but they have in common the body language of the tourist being taken around like a kid on a school trip. It is a universal language more powerful than the spoken tongue. I have to stop my bike, I can’t go through, the group is monopolising the whole street. I am getting impatient as I mentally go through all the tasks awaiting me when I get home: dinner, laundry, children homework, and the endless administrative chores weighing on our shoulders.
It doesn’t stop here. Further on around the Campo de Fiori area, I am hit by another group of tourists, on a segway this time. They are dangerously moving in between pedestrians on via dei Giubbonari, trying not to injure them while learning to navigate the machine. While focusing on the manoeuvre, I don’t think they can see much of Rome. They don’t seem to know where they are going, they just follow the person on the segway in front of them. They go relatively fast and are particularly unpredictable, it is too risky for me to try to cycle along, so I stop my bike until they’ve moved to another street. I have already lost half an hour and when I try to buy bread at Forno Roscioli — one of the best bakeries of the area — I have to wait more because a group of tourists on a food tour has just taken over the shop and wants to try the different types of bread and pizza. If only I had got there five minutes earlier, I would have avoided them! I am here now, I wait another ten minutes for my turn.
As I try to cross Corso Vittorio Emanuele at the malfunctioning traffic light in front of the Church of Sant’Andrea della Valle, I smile at a smaller group of tourists on a Bici Baci Vespa (In passing, I’ve seen this Vespa rental business expand extremely fast in the past ten years). Novice riders are trying to ride around Rome like a local but they look nothing like a local, they are too tense holding the handle bar and navigating through cars. Romans do not ride but sail through traffic with lightness and elegance. Once back around the Senate in the pedestrian area, I think I can finally relax, but no, I am hit full face by yet another group on bicycle this time wearing the full safety gear as a measure of protection (by the way, Roman cyclists don’t bother wearing a helmet, it ruins their hair style). I am about to take a frontal impact but I manage to avoid them at the last minute. After so much road stress, I eventually reach home in the perfect mood to start arguing with my partner at the first occasion.
Visitors beware, if you think you are experiencing the city like a local, think again, it’s all fake, it’s being staged for you and sold as a true experience through airbnb among other. Good jobs are rare in Rome, so tourists become an invaluable source of income and any cent that can be extracted from you will be shamelessly taken. Central Rome has become a theme park created especially for your entertainment. From the figure I heard, there is today less than a third of the permanent residents who lived within the Aurelian walls 50 years ago. In one building alone in the Campo de Fiori area, there are as many as 24 B&B businesses, according to the local porter. True Romans have deserted the historic centre for outer neighbourhoods where Roman life now happens and where nobody takes you. Actually, I am not so sure about that, this morning at my local market, I saw for the first time a group of tourists being taken around the various stalls, the infiltration process has started…..
