Ho Visto*

A few random photos of things I've seen on the streets of Roma in the dwindling days of my time here.

As I was walking home late the other evening from a farewell dinner at our friend Joe's I happened upon this rather imperious puss. I'm not sure if he is one of the many strays that I am tempted to say "infest" the streets or belongs to someone. He seems well looked well fed and groomed so chances are he may even belong to the owner of the motorino he is guarding.

I know! I know! The shoe thing again! So here I am yesterday taking Nora to the vets - both of the HFH have tonsillitis, I didn't even know that dogs have tonsils! - and as we headed down a side street there they were sitting by a wall. Perfectly set as if they were in someone's shoe closet, a seemingly good pair of men's shoes. This is the second or third time I've come across something like this on the streets of Rome - someone scared right out of their shoes?  - alien abduction? - someone with a sense of humour that wants someone like me puzzling over something like this?  I'm not honestly sure. And a day later they are still there - untouched!

I walk by the gas pumps at Piazza Galeno almost daily - sometimes twice as this is one of the paths for the walks with the HFH - and have become quite friendly with one of the attendants there.  From Bangladesh he is one of the many "guest" workers here - speaks three languages, learning a fourth, computer savey and a cricket enthusiast; much to Nicky's annoyance  he and I often stop for a chat.  Probably because my eyes are always either at ground level or lower - if its on the ground Nora thinks its food - I had honestly never noticed this incredible tree (I'm thinking its an azalea but I'll let my plant loving friend correct me on that) growing up out of the sidewalk, its trunk bent to accommodate the ESSO sign.  But late last night walking home from the Metro it was glowing white in the dark - a few spent flowers peppering the ground - and I saw something that had been there for three years for the very first time.

*I Saw

03 lulgio - San Tommaso Didimo

The Palms of Rome

Doesn't he mean "the Pines of Rome" you may well be asking yourself. Well yes the stately Pines are the first thing that come to mind when you mention Roman greenery but it is also a city of wasteria, oak and palm trees. Though that is fast becoming the past tense "was" in the case of the stately palms.  Devastation has struck palm trees of every kind throughout the southern Mediterranean over the past  30 years and has now worked its way up to the Roma-Lazio area.  A recent report indicates that  over 700 palm trees have been destroyed just outside the city in Ostia; the entire palm tree population of Villa Torlonia and up to 30% in the Lazio region have also been wiped out. Mind you that is nothing compared with the 30,000 palm trees that have been destroyed in Sicily in the past six years.

This stand of palm trees is in the front garden of the former residence of the Saudi Ambassador on Via Regina Margherita. They appear healthy but only today an infected tree was removed that stood beside them. It was first stripped of all its dead fronds, then the top cut off and the trunk cut into pieces. Hopefully it has not infected the other trees but by the time the trees show distress it is normally too late to save them.

Palms are not native to the area but were imported in the 19th century as an exotic plant for the gardens of the villas that surround Roma.  And since 2004 more were being imported into the coastal towns by municipal governments eager to sell their areas as lush tropical tourist destinations. And those trees - most imported from Egypt - served as a Trojan Horse (if I may mix historical metaphor) for a small, well concealed but dangerous enemy. The culprit is a little insect known as Rhynchophorus ferrugineus or the red palm weevil. And it is proving deadly for those palms ( Phoenix canariensis) that line the streets and grace the villa gardens and parks throughout the city.

So far this tree in an apartment yard on the Aventino (top) has not shown any signs of infestation and appears to be healthy as does this tall palm near our house. It has become a host but to a wisteria that is climbing its way up - perhaps ultimately as destructive as the weevil but more easily controlled.

As with many insects it is not the adult weevil which is the destroying agent but the larvae which burrow their way into the heart of the palm. A female weevil lays as many as 300 eggs and the hatched larvae then tunnel through the plant feeding on the soft interior fiber. In a serious infestation if you put your ear against the trunk it is possible to hear the crunching sound of the feeding larvae.

As recently as last year this palm in our neighbour's yard (top) was gloriously healthy looking - it has now been in its present state for about 6 months. The law requires that people report infected trees on their property but infestations often go unreported because of the cost of removal etc. The palm in the second photo, at a house just down the street, is showing the first stages of the handiwork of the weevil larvae. It is probably too late to save it now.

By the time the top leaves show signs of drooping it is already too late to do anything. In a little as three months the palm will be dead.  Because it is not indigenous the weevil has no natural enemies in the region and few of the eradication/control methods used have proved successful. It would appear that the best way is the most drastic: cut down and shred all the palms, including the healthy ones, in areas where infestations have been found. Though the law requires that people report sick trees on their property many people neglect to because of both the drastic measures necessary and the cost involved.

Though the situation is a serious one quite often plants have a way surviving.  This palm has taken root on a long dead tree on a nearby street - another example of the remarkable tenacity of plants.

Italian scientists are attempting to find a solution but the fight is an unequal one.  The Trojan Horse was willing dragged in from the outside world, it disgorged its troops and caught the inhabitants by surprise.  The original story had a sad ending - it may well be the same for the beautiful Palms of Rome.

08 aprile - San Dionigi di Corinto

Quote ... Unquote

I'm sorry Walter, Marco, Vin, Simonetta I love you all but Italians are hard to understand. I don't mean when they speak - I mean they are HARD to understand. Of course I am not the first straniero to make that observation - that was probably some poor Hun who had come down to conquer and found himself totally confused. The red tape, traffic and hysteria going on around him made it almost impossible to rape and plunder with even a modicum of Hunish efficiency!

I'll give you an example of what I mean: our neighbour on the first floor can barely bring himself to say buon giorno and tends to hustle the children along if he sees us coming - now that may be a combination of us being stranieri and omosessuale. Yet the other evening when we had a power failure and discovered that there was no way to open the front gates he patiently explained about the key for the back gate, was indignant that we didn't have one - this was not right the Embassy should have given us one, what would we do if there was an accident we could be trapped in the compound - and trotted down the long back lane way to open it for us. This morning it was back to a curt nod and a muttered greeting!

But then as Beppe Severgnini explains in La Bella Figura in an emergency Italians come through! Severgnini's explanation of the Italian character is highly recommended reading for anyone visiting Italy and mandatory for anyone planning to live here. He addresses many of those questions that have been puzzling us stranieri since the first Gaul gawked in wonder at the Colesseo.

Take traffic and parking! Though he's talking specifically about the parking situation in Napoli, he could be addressing the Sunday morning circling for a spot near the door at IKEA here at Porta di Roma.

Italian motorists must - not "like to," not "want to," not "beg to," but absolutely must - park right next to their destination, with no thought for the consequences. It's true all over the country, but here in Naples, under pressure from the lack of space, stimulated by uphill gradients, and excited by the descents, drivers seem particularly creative.

Anyone arriving by car expects to park outside the front door. A couple of hundred meters away there may be a huge free parking lot, but that's irrelevant. Leaving the car there would be an admission of defeat. Our car user circles like a shark awaiting the moment to strike. If the individual concerned thinks he or she is important - a title that many in Naples like to acquire in the course of a brief, solitary award ceremonies - then irritation increases. Status is inversely proportional to the distance between destination and parking space. The closer the car the more important the driver.

And I think he may have come up with an explanation for that Mercedes that has been parked on a nearby street for the past six months. You may recall I wrote about it in September. Yes its still sitting there but that sticky mess of figs has dried up and is now covered by a lovely autumnal arrangement of dead leaves.



Severgnini's possible explanation? Again he's talking about Napoli but it could be Roma and it could be that Mercedes owner.

There's another category of motorists that deserve examination here in Naples. I'm taking about the Potential Driver, who has found a parking space - improbable, improvised or just plain impermissible - and has not intention of giving it up. This driver gets around on foot, on a scooter, or on public transport, defying the ticket inspectors and muggers. But the car stays where it is. Every so often, he dusts the vehicle off. Why should he move it? A car is a form of reassurance, proof of prosperity, and a place to listen to the radio or store wine. No one around here has ever parked so close to home before. The neighbours know this, and observe in admiration.

La Bella Figura
Beppe Severgnini

The Doubleday Broadway Publishing Group

Well of course, why didn't I think of that: once you've got a good spot why give it up? Makes sense doesn't it?

Okay even Severgnini can't always give reasons that make sense to us Huns - hey we are in Italy - but he makes a good stab at it. And its entertaining reading!

26 novembre - Sant'Umile da Bisignano

I Storni

I was returning from an appointment in Trastevere this afternoon and decided to take the Ponte Palatini rather than my normal walk cross the Isola Tiberina - I had already had my ice cream on the way over, Sacher Torte and Zabalione. As I started across the noise of the rush hour traffic was almost drowned out by the calls of flocks of starlings.

It appears that the birds are staying around Rome these days rather than heading south the way they use to in November - but its not climate change just a change of vacation plans. It is not unusual to see clouds of them just before sunset.



The acrobatics were literally stopping traffic - a few people had gotten out of their cars in the middle of the bridge to take movies. I did a few seconds of video from the safety of the sidewalk.

It was a beautiful if at the same time slightly unsettling display. Alfred Hitchcock has a great deal to answer for!

24 novembre - Sant'Andrea Dũng Lạc e suoi 116 compagni di martiri

Images of Rome - Have Some Figs, Newton!

One of the, many, lovely things here are the fruit trees that grow almost everywhere. Via XX Settembre, a main street leading from Porta Pia into Centro is lined with orange trees and our compound has orange, kumquat and lemon trees. But the fruit is very seldom used for anything, it simply rots on the trees or the ground. Occasionally someone does pick it - like our friends Andre and Joyce who use the oranges in their neighborhood for juice - but mostly it just goes to waste. On a side street near us there's a beautiful fig tree (above) that shades part of the sidewalk and I have seen people from nearby offices and the Embassy of Côte d'Ivorie take a few as a snack.

But the bulk of it just falls to the sidewalk and road and forms a sweet, sticky, rotting mess - a sweet sticky mess that coats the soles of your shoes and is particularly attractive to wasps. And it seems that every year someone parks a vehicle for a few months under that tree. Last year it was an SUV, this year a different car but with the same result.
I love figs but I'm trying to imagine cleaning up the mess without taking half the paint with it. But I know that one morning I will walk by and the car will have disappeared - perhaps carried off by a swarm of wasps!

16 settembre - Santa Lumdilla