Fresh Roman vegetables by Rome City Apartments

Italian food is loved around the world. Delights such as pizza and pasta have been repackaged into 2-minute ready meals and frozen cardboard-tasting deep-dish abominations that would send shudders through the gastronomic instincts of every Italian. Is there much more to the Italian menu or is it food for overgrown babies?

All Italians love to cook and love to eat, or so my Italian friends tell me. Yet, Italian men are famous for living with their mothers into their forties. If they don’t have a good reason to fly the nest, then why forfeit mama’s loving, domestic services of laundry services and heartily home cooked meals?

In recent times, this social trait has been a hot topic of debate among politicians and commentators. A section of the conservative, older generation believes this is a genuine social and economic problem. Two years ago, the Italian Minister of Economy and Finance, Tommaso Padoa-Schioppa, went one step further. He described overgrown male babies still living in their parents’ apartments as “bamboccioni”, or big babies.

In 2010, more than 60 per cent of Italians aged 18 to 34 were still living at home – and a third of them were aged in their early thirties. During these uncertain economic times the counter argument is that the younger generation does not have a secure future and many are unemployed.

Many believe that the fault generally lies with over-protective mothers who clip their children’s wings. Young adults who leave home for work or to study are usually very independent. In fact, more often than not, they are fastidiously clean and tidy and enjoy cooking for themselves.

But enough about big babies

Spaghetti the Italian way by Rome City Apartments

One of the best parts of travel is experiencing the variety of foods and dining experiences that each culture dishes up. Globalisation has created a situation where most major cities have a phone book’s worth of multicultural restaurants from which to experience a variety of ethnic foods that test and tease the pallet. The British reputation for terrible cuisine, for example, no longer matters as they have inherited Indian Tikka Masalas (which were actually first concocted in an restaurant in London), Pad Thais and Mexican Fajitas, to name but a few.

I too, take pleasure in tantalising the four sensory areas of my tongue, enjoying either rich sweets and exotic spices or subtle, individual flavours. I hope I can be forgiven for my lack of understanding about Italian fare, but I don’t feel that Italian dishes compete with Asian dishes for their range of flavour enhancers. A browse through the Italian supermarket shelves highlights the boundaries to grocery shopping in Rome – at least in comparison to the United Kingdom, and even more so in the United States.

Moreover, the disappointing range of watery beers, foul-tasting ‘house wine’ and lack of mature cheddar suggests that there isn’t the market for quality in variety. With such devotion to their culture and cuisine, foreign restaurants which serve a more ethnic source of nourishment are a rarity in Rome. Are Italian taste buds restricted to a more bland range of flavours or do the rest of us lack appreciation of this fine art?

A typical Roman "Bambinone" devouring Mama's spaghetti by Rome City Apartments

This question could perhaps spark an arm-gesticulating debate as Italians are fiercely proud of their menu. They eat with love and passion and most can cook any of the meals offered in the restaurants, and more. Proud of their roots, they can hold an all-night seminar at the dinner table about the regional variations in Italian cooking or the intricacies of food choice and timing for reasons of both nutrition and flavour.

The effect of his passion on the Italian diet and dining customs is evident. While many meals are stocked high with saturated fats, a closer examination of their menu, culture and eating habits offers some explanation.

A waistline to envy

Last year’s OECD health statistics revealed something quite startling about native English speakers and our jelly-bellies. The United States (33.8%), New Zealand (26.5%), Australia (24.6%), Canada (24.2%), the United Kingdom (23%), and Ireland (23%) occupy six of the top 10 positions on the obesity per capita table. Meanwhile, Germans sit in 24^th spot with 14.7 percent and Italy is way down the list at number 34. For a nation obsessed with cheese, why do only 10.3 per cent of Italians weigh in as obese? Why such thin waistlines?

OECD Health Statistics. 2011

The answer to this conundrum is multi-layered. Some of it rests on cultural pressures to retain a sleek physique, but what about that famous Mediterranean diet? The Italian menu possesses some heavenly, creamy and rich recipes. Yet very little is fried, breaded or processed. And Italians are fussy about the timing of meals and portion size. They believe that the method of cooking and process of eating is a regimented process which combines science and art. Never, for example, combine bread and pasta, and restrict the ingestion of carbohydrates to earlier in the day.

No other nation is so in tune with their digestive system. Whether or not you agree with the description of the Italian ‘big babies’, one thing is for sure, Italians are passionate about their culture and they are even more passionate about their food. If you’re looking for tips on how to lose weight while retaining a delicious diet, perhaps the following cultural, dining observations may help to explain a few things.

Roman dining habits

Breakfast (colazione)

Delicious Roman red meat by Rome City Apartments

For Italians, breakfast at home is usually a very simple way to start the day. A coffee with milk and a biscuit contradicts the English perception that this is the most important meal of the day. However, if they feel more adventurous, Italians will head out to the local bar (coffee shop) for a cappuccino and a croissant. The croissants (or cornetto in Italian) are often filled with a sweet, oozy delight such as strawberry jam, chocolate or custard. If you are worried about the amount of calories you will consume in Italy, this is potentially the first point of danger. Some of the croissants are injected with so much chocolate that the explosion on the first crunch leaves behind an Augustus-Gloop-mess on your face which would leave Roald Dahl’s over-sized Austrian character beaming with pride. That said; if you can hold off until lunch, a plain croissant and cappuccino will only set you back 250 calories.

Lunch (pranzo)

Lunches for Romans regularly last two hours and excitingly they often include Italy’s two great gastronomic exports – pizza and pasta. The lunch dining experience usually comprises three or more courses which may take up more than two hours of their afternoon – even during the work week. However, portion sizes make all the difference. Italians take their time, savouring each dish, often pausing between servings.

This is the largest, carbohydrate-filled meal of the day which for many generates the need for an afternoon nap. The siesta may be more famous for its association with Spain, but the post-lunch snooze in Italy is widely believed by to be a natural course for increasing worker productivity in the afternoon. Employers should allow (and even encourage) workers to nap on their work breaks.

If, however, the worker is in a hurry, they will probably choose to grab a panino (sandwich) or folded pizza to go. Convenient and tasty.

Coffee (caffè)

Thank the Lord for the absence of Starbucks in Italy – overpriced, over-roasted and over-sized. The morning coffee of choice is usually a caffe latte or cappuccino and is served in a cup one quarter of the size of the smallest option from the American chain. Espresso and macchiato are lighter, post-lunch alternatives. It is very common for Italians to grab one on the run as a quick afternoon vitality booster. Between meals snacking is a cultural no-no.

Dinner (cena)

A couple of nights ago I received my first dining lesson since moving out from living with my parents. For as long as I can remember, I have enjoyed drizzling olive oil onto a plate and carefully flowing balsamic vinegar into the centre to dip my white, crusty bread – a ceremony I have practised for years as a type of impatient ritual I use to distract me from asking for the chef to hurry up with my main course. However, the audible gasp I received from around the table made me double-check that I wasn’t pouring wine onto my plate. Every Italian looked on with pity at my mealtime misdemeanour. I’m still not exactly sure but I think that they prefer to keep the condiment puddles separated so that they can savour the individual flavours.

The "Last supper" by Leonardo Da Vinci - Rome City Apartments

The last meal of the day usually takes place late in the evening after 8pm. The protein-heavy, meat-based main course is accompanied by an abundance of olive oil-soaked vegetables. This, I am assured, is the Mediterranean diet and one should not be ashamed to get stuck in at the end and mop up the sauce with a basket of crusty bread… or two.

Gelato

A friend works for a well-known confectionary brand and receives free ice-cream as a perk. Let’s just say Nick Frost’s character, Ed, in Sean of the Dead would be content on his sofa. My friend says it is rare for a day to go past without eating one of these ice-creams… and still he craves the Italian gelato for its superior quality over any brand-named dessert.

How can this creamy, frozen sweet not be sinful and enormously fattening? Italians lick it up wise to the knowledge that one soft scoop will satisfy the sweet urge without tipping the scales.

Further temptation

An abundance of eateries in all shapes and sizes makes it easy to dine at any time of the day. The attractive displays in cafes, tabaccherias (bars), enotecas (wine bars), restaurants and pizzerias call out through the shop windows which line every street of Rome. This makes it easy for tourists to regulate their eating pattern according to their own habits, free time or gluttony.

While ‘three meals a day’ is applied as a hard and fast rule by Italians, Rome still caters to the tourist’s holiday diary and experimentation.

Sunday Brunch

Brunch is bit of a novelty in Rome, although look hard enough and you will be in for a treat. Panella cafe (address below) offers an amazing selection of meats, cheeses, pastries and desserts all for 15 euros (includes one drink, coffee, alcohol or soft). However, be warned, the service around the buffet reminds you a little of Seinfeld’s Nazi Soup episode. The temperament of the staff is, let’s say, very Italian and who insist upon a strict manner of behaviour when ordering. The food is extraordinarily good but one wrong step and you fear hearing the words, ‘No food for you’.

Aperitivo

The aperitivo is often an economic, but delicious way to experience a variety of flavours on your plate. Traditionally a tasting platter to accompany drinks before the main meal, the Roman aperativo typically begins at 7pm. Businesses in the popular restaurant/bar areas compete for the post-work drinking crowd. Choose the right one, and for a slightly inflated price on your alcoholic beverage, customers are confronted by a dizzying array of cheeses, vegetables, meats, olives, nuts and pasta tasting plates.

Bar tabaccheria

Italians ‘on-the-go’ prefer to stand at the counter where they will demolish a coffee and/or sandwich before you can say ‘check please’. By doing so, they pay less than if they take their time and eat seated. These popular bars serve coffee, cakes, sandwiches, beers and general items such as tobacco and stamps.

With the exception of those located in busy tourist areas, it is common to order coffee and food at the bar before paying at the till. It is baffling that this ‘honour system’ does not lead to greater confusion. There is no strict rule for the process of ordering, eating and payment – but keeping an eye on the locals helps to save face. If you receive a receipt with your order, make sure you retain it for ease of payment. It may help you to explain to the till operator exactly which panino (sandwich) you ate.

Menu turistico

These menus are often as bad as they sound. Watch out for frozen, reheated pastas. Nevertheless, they are cheap and convenient, and if you strike it lucky, you can end up with four delicious courses for as little as 10 euros.

Aperitivo suggestion: Oasi della Birra, 40 Piazza Testaccio, Testaccio. This gorgeous restaurant offers a greater selection of tasting plates, cheeses, beers and wines than anywhere else I have discovered in Rome.

 Breakfast suggestion: Caffè Santa Rufina, 24 Piazza di Santa Rufina (just off Via della Lungaretta), Trastevere. It’s a very simple little café but the croissants ooze out a year’s supply of deliciousness.

Sunday brunch suggestion: Panella, 54 Via Merulana 54, Monti (near Vittorio Emanuele Metro station). http://www.panella-artedelpane.it/

You might be interested to read more on this topic: “Eating in Rome: 5 restaurants off the beaten past“.

Copyright 2012 Rome City Apartments – All rights reserved

A picture of the marquise taken by her husband

Anna Fallarino was one of the first Italian women to get breast implants, an operation still completely unheard of at the time. The more important discovery the commissioner made, however, was Camillo Casati’s diary. “It was in the desk of the study where the crime took place.  It was a diary the size of a file folder, bound in green leather, and written in Casati’s neat handwriting. It was an important discovery; together with the photographs it allowed us to reconstruct the events leading up to the crime, and thus to explain what had happened. But it was also a delicate discovery, something to be handled tactfully because of the names it contained and the details of certain accounts that were a good deal more lurid than the versions published in the newspapers.” With an almost maniacal precision and richness of detail the marquis chronicled his wife’s sexual encounters with workmen, soldiers, lifeguards an waiters, encounters he himself had arranged and sometimes paid for. This behavior began the very day they were married, right in the hotel where they spent their wedding night.

When a waiter brought champagne to their room, the marquis left the door to the bathroom where Anna was showering ajar. At first the man didn’t understand what was happening, but then he caught on an went in. That was the nature of their relationship from that night on, for eleven years. “Today Anna made love with a lad so effectively that even at a distance I could share in the joy.”. “Today Anna met an airman. He was young and exceedingly handsome. It was a fantastic encounter. Anna was happy and participated with great intensity.”. “We went to the beach at Fiumicino, and a lot of men were looking at her. Together we chose a young man. He was fulfilling, and we paid him”. “We were super-nude at Fiumicino. Anna was beautifully laid out, relaxing. Later a new airman passed by … totally divine”. “I liked it when you’re in bed with someone else, I feel like I love you even more”. “Today Anna made love to a soldier. It cost me 30.000 lire but it was worth it.”. In addition to the diary, investigators found dozens, even hundreds of photographs that showed Anna nude, sometimes in poses meant to be artistic, sometimes just obscene, but always focused on details you might easily guess.

Another picture of her husband's collection by Rome City Apartments

Camillo’s particular mental process, quite simple and not so uncommon, was explained this way by the psychiatrist  Emilio Servadio: “It’s called voyeurism, and it’s the desire to be a witness, to look on, to observe. An accentuation, in other words, of what a famous American scholar called the “the visual stimulus. It’s a phenomenon that develops early, because there children who, at a certain age, develop a curiosity that resolves itself in the need to see, to know, to watch. If this tendency is not overcome in their psycho-sexual development it can remain an important part of the adult’s sexuality and the adult will then exhibit a morbid desire to watch other peoples’s sexual activities. These individuals, professor Servadio continued, also have  a heightened inclination toward masochism, especially the type called “moral masochism”.  But are we sure there is nothing more than this? One thing is to watch other people sexual activity, another thing is to watch your wife’s sexual activity and then declare, as Camillo did in his diary: “I liked it when you’re in bed with someone else, I feel like I love you even more”.

Even with this psychological explanation, we might ask why this man, who for eleven years had fed his habit with such evident satisfaction, so suddenly rebelled against a situation he’d created for his own pleasure. Servadio’s answer to this was: “the key to the puzzle, and for me the solution to this case, is this: the masochist, contrary to what we may think, is not an individual who allows himself to be mistreated ad libitum, at the mercy of someone else’s whims and desires. The masochist is always the director, always in control of the situation. Let’s trace the term back to its roots. Leopold Von Sacher Masoch, who gave this perversion its name, wrote to his love, Wanda Von Dunajew: “ I am coming to you at that hour. You will be dressed in a pair of high, black boots, and you will have a whip. You will say to me: “ Kneel, slave, because I am your queen.”. He wrote it, so he was in charge of the script. If at any point his partner forgot her role and didn’t whip him enough, Masoch would react horribly. That’s what he did, in effect, when he tried to strangle his wife upon finding her in a situation he hadn’t planned.

It was something new in the routine that finally broke the pattern of behavior the Casati had created. After 10 years of taking men to please her husband, Anna –perhaps even a sign of her love for the Marquis – for the first time chose a partner on her own, and then probably fell in love with him. She didn’t just copulate with Massimo Minorenti, as she had with others, she made love to him. They had met at a party and begun seeing one another. One afternoon they went together to a hotel in the area around the Viale Liegi, in the Parioli neighborhood.  These were brief meetings and were Anna’s first in secret after all the men she’d had in front of her husband.

Lola Falana, who had been the lover of Massimo Minorenti

If it’s easier to clarify Camillo’s motivations, Anna’s are much more difficult to explain. Why did she play such a game, right from the first night they were married? Was there some explicit agreement between them or did they understand one another without a need for words? If he was a voyeur, was she, in the clinical sense, and exhibitionist?  We don’t know the answers to these questions and Professor Servadio’s opinion here seems more debatable. “It seems evident to me that it also gave the woman pleasure, in addition to the social and economic advantages she gained by allowing her husband to use her like that. Furthermore, it’s been shown that the same masochistic or sadistic components are more common in women than in men. Thus it’s entirely possible that she took direct pleasure from the turbid, abnormal situations her husband placed her in. Let’s take the fact that she was photographed nude, in lascivious poses: this is a part of that disposition to perversion which women are more prone to than men”. JX9TCPYDDJUZ

If it was a matter of social and economic advantages, Anna had already guaranteed them by marrying the marquis. His first wife’s settlement was substantial, and hers could have been even bigger; a mutual break up wasn’t in the marquis’ best interest. On the other hand, ther are testimonies of the 2 servants, Felice and Oliviera, that mentioned they heard the couple fighting and yelling, saw Anna crying and heard her, at least once, vent. On that occasion she transformed from the marquise back into the poor girl she was before the marriage, exclaiming: “It’d be better to eat onions and bread and live like a bum where I came from than to accept the rules of this corrupt world, full of people who make me sick. If this continues, one day or another I’ll toss it all to the wind and go back home”.

This was one aspect of Anna’s personality and the tone of the whole affair. The other, almost diametrically opposed aspect, belonged to the woman who allowed herself to be photographed nude hundreds of times –in such immodest poses – and to be had dozens of times by the first stranger who passed by. How could she have done all that if she didn’t also have some natural propensity for such erotic games or, more crudely, such perversions? Perhaps, though, she did it because she nursed some kind of bottomless unhappiness deep down.

Speaking of perversions, Freud had an opinion that gives us something to think about: “The omnipotence of love” he wrote “never reveals itself as strongly as it does in its own aberrations”. It’s precisely this “omnipotence” that makes such a high toll because it manifests itself “by transforming the beloved into an object”. He believes, and perhaps he is right, that a “pervert” is simply someone who acts on what people only fantasize about. But this is exactly the difference and, if true, also the premise of this tragedy: perversion is governed by its own precise rules , one of which is the objectification of the loved one. At the very instant Anna began to choose and decide on her own, abandoning her role of the “object”, she broke the rules, and the tragedy was set into motion.

Anna wrote to Massimo from the island of Zannone: “I’m really sad. Usually I really love this island, but this year I hate it … I think a note from  you would make me happy. If you can, type the envelope and put the return address as Sartoria Botti (my dressmaker), Corso Italia 21, Rome. Now I need to leave you, Camillo is coming back in. I send you a big hug, your Anna. “When she was taken on the sand of Fiumicino in front of her husband, Anna was complicit in a ribald game. Here, instead, we have a classic “betrayal”, the woman acting like an archetypal Emma Bovary. This happened in the spring of 1970. A few days later she wrote again: “My only love, I am writing while Camillo is sitting comfortably in his armchair listening to the radio. What can I tell you more than I adore you so, so, so much.? I think with such excitement about the time we can be together again, we two alone for a week or even just a day, all to ourselves. Bye, my great love”.

Camillo and Anna by Rome City Apartments

At the same time, or shortly afterward, Camillo realized what was happening and noted, bitterly in his diary: “What a delusion. I wish I were dead and buried. How disgusting, how nasty. It makes me sick; that’s what Anna gave me, sickness. Really, losing her head for a young man as absolutely insignificant as Massimo, who, if he didn’t have such nice hair as a disguise, would be totally nobody.” A nobody or not, Massimo was a handsome lad, part loafer, part playboy, he was a political science student who hadn’t taken a single exam.  Though, he had some luck with the ladies, as is proven by the relationship he had with Lola Falana, an Afro-Italian dancer who had a fair amount of success on television. It seems his ambition was to open a car dealership or, maybe, a nightclub. But by breaking the rules of the game also took a risk. He certainly would have been more careful had he not also been so emotionally involved.

Anna essentially tried to beat her husband at his own game. She didn’t hide her affair with Massimo and hoped, instead, to pass it off as  a variation on their activities. She didn’t allow him to watch when they made love, but told him about it. Since he couldn’t expect traditional faithfulness from his wife, Camillo at least expected her to be faithful to their rules, and give him a detailed report of her encounters. He wrote in his diary: “Anna has completely failed me, but my illness binds me to her. I can’t sleep, even though I want so much. I can’t take this situation anymore. I really want to leave her, but I can’t do it. I’m slowly dying on the inside; I’v elost everything … I can’t take this anymore”.

The Caligola apartment, close To Villa Borghese, by Rome City Apartments

She was aware of how depressed Camillo was, and saw the rancor pent up inside him. Perhaps to approach him, or to distance what she felt as a threat, she agreed to go with him to Fiumicino on August 26, 4 days before the end and have sex in front of him with a passing soldier. On Saturday, August 29, the marquis was in Valdagno, guest of his friends Marzotto. He called home several times to speak with Anna. She told him she was having dinner with Massimo and another 3 friends. During the last call, at midnight, she admitted they’d all left except Massimo and his friend Aurelio. Camillo suspected that the former would spend the night with his wife, and he threatened to return to Rome and kill them. The three guessed that Camillo was about to break. The marquis seemed beside himself.; on the telephone he intimated they should leave the house, called Massimo a pimp and set a date with his wife for the following day, saying he needed an explanation. But Anna, now terrified, wrote Camillo a note of near surrender: “Please forgive me if I’ve made a mistake: I promise to break it off immediately with Massimo and come back to you as before.” A servant was responsible for delivering it to the marquis as soon as he set foot in the house.

That was at six thirty on Sunday afternoon. A servant called Anna from the house on Via Puccini and told her the marquis had returned and was waiting for her and Massimo as they had agreed. Hesitating, she asked to speak directly with her husband. He seemed calm on the phone and reassured her by saying he only wanted to clarify the situation. While Anna and Massimo made their final plans with two friends who would go with them to the apartment, Camillo called his butler and ordered him to admit his wife and her companion, then close the door and not disturb them any reason whatsoever.

At about seven Anna and Massimo arrived at Via Puccini (click here to see Via Puccini n.9 on Google Street view), Massimo’s friend followed them in another car. Meanwhile Camillo was sitting at his desk writing this note: “I die because I can’t stand that you love another man. I need to do what I am doing. Forgive me. And come sometimes to visit me. He put the note in an envelope and wrote “Anna” on it. We don’t know how the tragedy’s prologue played out, but it was brief. If Camillo was thinking about killing himself, perhaps in front of Anna and her lover as his last note suggests, he quickly changed his mind. Maybe it was rage that blinded him, or perhaps the words they exchanged inn the quiet of the den convinced him that Anna had lied, that nothing could be as before, that he had definitively lost. The first bullets were for his wife. Massimo tried to flee, running to leave the room. A bullet struck him in the back, and either right before or immediately afterward he tried to use a little table as a shield. The second bullet, however, hit him directly in the head. Wedging the butt of the rifle against the back of an armchair, he put the barrel against his throat and pulled the trigger. The two friends waiting in the street heard the shots and the sound of breaking glass, and decided to go up and ring the doorbell, but the butler couldn’t be convinced to do anything. Only after they insisted did he finally decide to open the door.

We already know what they saw inside: the final act of a tragic love story.

Camillo and Anna Casati Stampa by Rome City Apartments

The first call to the police station rang at ten o’clock on a Sunday evening,  August 30, 1970. Strangely, the day had been almost autumnal, a rarity for that time of the year. The caller reported a murder in the Pinciano neighborhood, Rome, at Via Puccini, 9 a building of upper-class bourgeoisie apartments. Valerio Gianfrancesco, head of the station’s homicide division, was first to arrive at the crime scene, in the elegant home of Marquis Casati Stampa di Soncino, a two-story, terraced penthouse with a view of Villa Borghese. He later spoke of what had happened in an interview with Ezio Pasero, a journalist “As soon as the alarm came to the station , we rushed to that splendid penthouse, with no idea of what had caused the problem, obviously. Instead, I thought that it must have been an attempted robbery, or maybe even a kidnapping gone wrong. I was the first to go into the den and see the horrible scene. A woman was heaped in an armchair with an incredulous expression still on her face, the marquis was on the floor next to a rifle, and a young man was balled up behind a small overturned table”. All three were dead. Who were the three leading actors of this tragedy?

Anna Fallarino Casati Stampa in a picture taken by her husband

The woman was Anna Fallarino, whose married title was Marquise Casati Stampa di Soncino. The man next to the shotgun was her husband, Marquis Camillo, who friends referred to as Camillino. The third victim, the young man, was Massimo Minorenti, 25 years old university dropout who some described as a Fascist thug, and others as a simple activist in the Neo-Fascist movement. Given the scene of the crime, its motive seemed immediately apparent: a murder inspired by jealousy.  She was a beautiful 41 year old woman; he was the husband of noble countenance, thin, and almost bald; and the lad in his twenties was clearly the “other man”. In reality, as became clear over time, this both was and wasn’t the motive. The story behind the crime was much more intricate, and the emotions that both united and divided these three people were much more complex.

Of all the violent crimes committed in Rome after the war, the one in Via Puccini is perhaps the most memorable because of the circumstances that surrounded it, the twisted personalities of the husband and wife, and the intrigues that emerged in the days after the murder. It truly was, for once, a situation worthy of the overused label turbid. It’s also memorable because of the thorny issues that arose in trying to settle the marquis’ large estate after the crime.

The murders of Via Puccini are interesting because of the history behind them, and because the protagonists’ lives are emblematic of Rome and its mores after the hardships of war had passed and an economic boom enabled even people lower down on the economic ladder to enjoy some financial well-being.  A comfortable life suddenly seemed within the reach of anyone with sufficient ability, luck or unscrupulousness to have a grab at it – and sometimes simply having a little beauty was enough.

A detail of the Fienaroli apartment by Rome City Apartments

Anna Fallarino had bet on just that – beauty. Her eyes were lovely, as were the regular features of her face and her shapely figure. She was a little heavy from the waist down, but those were days of curvaceous women, so even that was an asset. Her family came from a lower middle class; her father was a clerical worker and his marriage wasn’t the happiest of unions. At the age of 16, when the war had just ended, she moved to Rome from a small village; here she believed she could have lots of opportunities , could make a good future for herself and find a good catch. She went to live with her uncle Mario, a police officer, at Via Milano, 43 apartment n.5, half way between the Piazza Venezia and the Piazza della Repubblica, with the Naiad Fountain at the center, decorated with four beautiful, shapely women, a bit like Anna. As chance would have it, a young man named Remo, son of a butcher, lived in the building across from Anna’s apartment. Remo had the modest ambitions allowed him by his social condition and the times.  In the early 150s, when Anna walked arm-in-arm with her Remo on Sunday afternoons to admire windows of the elegant shops one the Via Condotti, Rome still had the air of another era. The atmosphere was transparent, the light on certain clear winter days had the brightness of porcelain and the monumentality of it all seemed more intense in the deserted streets, where passing automobiles were still a rarity.

The Dominican Playboy Rubirosa Porfirio by Rome City Apartments

The sentimental education of girls like Anna was generally imparted in weekly magazines with comic-strip soap-opera stories titles Grand Hotel or Zazà. These enchanted stories’ heroines were invariably a common girl, a secretary or salesgirl, who  met her soul mate – a lawyer or, better yet, a journalist, or even an airplane pilot. The stories always offered the glimpse of a bright future, which was as much as anyone could ask. Upon hearing of the tragedy at Via Puccini, Anna’s former fiancé Remo said: “We went steady for three years. We were supposed to get married, but in the end it never happened. I can’t believe she ended like this. The newspapers talks about orgies, perversions, and the strange things she did with the marquis. I remember her as she was then, a down-to-earth girl who could take care of herself. I Can only remember her that way, and I want to say so to everybody who’s talking about her now like some fallen woman. Anna never would have turned into that if nobody had led her so astray.”

Anna, however, only had one thought in her mind: how to make the most out of her own beauty. With a bit of hard work – because she certainly had far to go – she found occasional work as a runway model, and learned how to carry herself stiffly, walking with one foot set carefully in front of the other while hardly moving her thighs, which were already generous, and needed little to make her stand out. And she finally made it to the movies. In 149 Mario Mattoli, who was directing his umpteenth film gave her a bit part. It wasn’t much, but she saw it as her debut. She could not imagine her cinematic career also ended with this movie.  Anna didn’t stick with it because in the same year she met Giovanni Drommi, a 28 year old engineer and industrialist, scion of a well-heeled Roman family. His nickname was Peppino, he frequented the most fashionable salons in town and led the sort of life Anna had only dreamt of.  They started to talk about marriage almost immediately and so it went. They were married in a church, complete with white dress, confetti, rice applause, tears, and all the rest. Peppino Drommi was a longtime friend of Marquis Camillo, but Anna didn’t yet know that, and ignored the weight their friendship would soon have on her own life. This first marriage lasted ten years. They had no children, but their life was more comfortable than anything anyone in the Fallarino family had ever known.

The life, background, culture and behavioral models of Camillo Casati Stampa di Soncino was entirely different. He grew up in  family with an ancient lineage. But little or nothing remained to our Camillo, who was born in 1927, of his family’s radiant past. Perhaps he inherited an awareness of the name that, without any other qualities, managed to transform itself into an unjustifiable arrogance. His wife Anna said of him: “Camillo began his personal war with servants as a child; it seems he head the habit ok kicking them in the shins”. After the tragedy his impeccable butler, Felice, reported: “For example, sometimes he found it unbecoming to speak directly to the staff, and when he addressed us it was through a third person, even if we were only a step away from him”.  The consequences of this rocky relationship with his domestic staff also played a part on the evening of the tragedy. Camillo had an idle affability that would alternate with sudden outbursts of absolute fury.

Camillo was friendly with Rome’s nobiltà nera, the “black” nobility faithful to the Pope, as opposed to the nobiltà Bianca, the “white” nobility faithful to the Savoy, Kings of Italy – rulers.  He had several homes: the Roman apartment on Via Puccini, a vacation house on the island of Zannone, in the national park of Circeo; a luxurious apartment in the heart of Milan, Brera. And estates in other smaller towns around Milan and he also had a 17th century villa in … Arcore…in the Brianza area north of Milan, which included a collection of 15th and 16th century paintings and a library of over 10.000 volumes … yes, later on this villa was bought by and became the residence of … Mr Silvio Berlusconi.

The Croisette of Cannes by Rome City Apartments

In 1958 something happened in Cannes, it seems, that first set Peppino, Anna’s husband at that time, and Camillo in competition in Anna’s eyes. They were staying in a luxurious apartment of a hotel in the city, right on the Croisette, and there was a party. Those soirées had the air, more than they would today, of a truly grand event, giving attendees a sense of having exclusive privileges. Porfirio Rubirosa was among the guests, and although his name seems like nothing straight out of fiction, it belonged to one of the most famous, luckiest lady-killers of the 1950s. The Dominican playboy wasn’t very tall, but was good looking.  Above all, he was famously well endowed where it counts, and reputed for his exceptional endurance. One of Porfirio’s favorite sayings was appropriate to the role he played: “Most of men are eager to make money; I’m eager to spend it”. Anna was elegant and lovely; Rubirosa wasn’t the only man to notice her. Unlike the others, though, he wasn’t content just to look. He approached her and began conversation with the inane and pleasant fluidity that only years of experience and great self-confident permit. As he spoke he put one of his hands familiarly on her bare back. This was a gesture of a bit too much confidence, and caused a rather heated reaction.

It’s not hard to understand Peppino Drommi’s concern when he saw Porfirio’s hand resting on his wife’s bare back. Yet the gesture seemed to bother Marquis Camillo even more. Peppino approached the “king of all playboys” and asked him to remove his hand. Porfirio smiled indulgently at hime and went on talking to Anna as if nothing had happened. Camillo, meanwhile, succumbed to one of his fits of rage and sprang to his feet. Peppino threw the first punch and Rubirosa, (who was also an amateur boxer) quickly reacted. Camillo hurled himself at his face. It was just like a brawl in the movies. Tables were overturned, glasses shattered, a lot of people screamed, beautiful women were frightened, and there was also a hint of amusement in the air.

Some say the first sparks between Anna and Camillo were ignited by this famous brawl fought in her honor in that grand hotel on the Croisette, which may well be true. In any case, a few months after this episode Camillo requested an annulment of his marriage. Peppino Drommi also recited the necessary lines to get an annulment.  Anna and Camillo were married in  a civil ceremony in Switzerland in April of 1959, and again in a church on June 21, 1961. What kind of marriage did Camillo and Anna have? The true nature of their relationship came to light only after the murders. If anyone knew about or participated in their curious ménages, it had been kept secret.  On August 30, 1970, the day of the crime, police officer Domenico Scali was one of the first to enter the apartment, and described what he saw in an interview, as we will soon recount on this blog: click here to read the second part of the story.

Sistine Chapel: the hand of God and Adam by Rome City Apartments

One of the key visuals of the Sistine Chapel (click here for a virtual tour of the Chapel) in Rome is the hand of God, and nobody would argue if we call Michelangelo, maybe the greatest artist of all times, the “hand of god” in the field of the fine arts. More recently the Argentinian football player Diego Armando Maradona, maybe the greatest footballer of all times, called himself the hand of god for other reasons (click here to see why). But as we don’t want to be blasphemous we will not call Michelangelo “the hand of god” and we will not call Diego Armando Maradona “the foot of God”, which would be more appropriate. As we don’t think we’re entitled to give a last judgment about the issue represented by the behavior of Maradona on the playground, we’d rather recount the chronicle of the making of the Sistine chapel, an absolute masterpiece of Arts which was made possible by the encounter of two hypertrophic egos such as Michelangelo Buonarroti and Pope Julius II.

The erection of a fine marble tomb for himself had long been one of the Julius’ II most cherished ambitions. As a first step in its realization he sent for a young sculptor from Florence, Michelangelo Buonarroti. The son of a poor Tuscan magistrate of aristocratic stock, Michelangelo was a gloomy, laconic young man of twenty nine, self-absorbed, quarrelsome and quickly offended. The Pope found him an infinitely more difficult artist to deal with than the amenable Bramante and the sweet-natured, charmingly polite and unobtrusive Raffaello Sanzio who was also working for him in the Vatican on the rooms to be known as the Raphael Stanze. But Michelangelo was already recognized as a genius of astounding power and versatility and it was inconceivable that the Pope, one of the most enlightened and discriminating patrons that Rome had ever known, should not wish to employ him.

At first all went well, Michelangelo was paid a hundred crowns for the expenses of his journey to Rome where the pope was delighted with the designs that were shown to him. He asked the sculptor to go to the quarries in the mountains of Carrara; and here Michelangelo spent eight months choosing and helping to excavate the blocks of marble, weighing in all over a hundred tons, for a monument which promised to surpass “every ancient or imperial tomb ever made”.

Portrait of Michelangelo Buonarroti by Rome City Apartments

After he had chosen all the marble that was wanted (so his fellow-Tuscan and contemporary, Giorgio Vasari, recorded), he had it loaded on board ship and taken to Rome, where the blocks filled half the square of St Peter’s… In the castle (Castel Sant’Angelo) Michelangelo had prepared his room for executing the figures and the rest of the tomb; and so that he could come and see him at work without any bother the Pope had ordered a drawbridge to be built from the corridor to the room. This led to great intimacy between them, although in time the favors Michelangelo was shown … stirred up much envy among his fellow craftsmen.

The Sistine Chapel in the quickly forgotten Second life

The easy intimacy between the Pope and Michelangelo did not last long, however. The sculptor did not like being watched at work, normally choosing to have his studio locked. Nor did he like being asked questions about his probable rate of progress. Touchy and irritable. He began to resent what he took to be his patron’s bossy interference, and he was offended by the casually offhand manner in which his request for interviews and monies were refused by the papal officials. After one such rebuff, Michelangelo lost his temper, told his servants to sell all the contents of his studio and rode out of the city to Florence. He was eventually persuaded to return to the Pope’s service, but not to work on the tomb as he had hoped. First of all, though he protested it was not his kind of art, he was required to make a monumental bronze statue of Julius fourteen feet high, which was to be erected on the façade of the church of San Petronio in Bologna and, after a revolution some years later, was melted down for a cannon by the Pope’s enemy, the Duke of Ferrara. He was then asked to undertake a task for which he felt even more ill qualified, the painting of the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. “He tried in every possible way to shake the burden off his shoulders” Vasari said. “But the more he refused, the more determined he made the pope, who was a willful man by nature. Finally, being the hot-tempered man he was, he was all ready to fly into a rage. However, seeing His Holiness was so persevering Michelangelo resigned himself to doing what he was asked. He was given an advance payment of 500 ducats and began work on 10 May 1508.

Portrait of Pope Julius II by Rome City Apartments

Immediately he regretted that he had given way. There was trouble over the scaffolding which Bramante constructed for him: initially it hung down from the ceiling on ropes but Michelangelo wanted it supported by props from the floor. There was trouble with his assistants whom he had sent for from Florence and whom he considered so incompetent that he scraped off everything they had done and decided to paint the whole area, all ten thousand square feet of it, himself. He locked the chapel door, refusing admittance to his fellow artists and to everyone else, thus provoking another quarrel with the Pope who was himself told to go away. And then there was trouble with a salty mould which, when the north wind blew, appeared on may areas of the ceiling and so discouraged Michelangelo that he despaired of the whole undertaking and was reluctant to go on until Giuliano da Sangallo showed him how to deal with.

The decoration of the Mirkos2 apartment in Rome that can challenge the beauty of the Sistine Chapel

The labour was physically as well as emotionally exhausting. He had to paint standing, looking upwards for such long periods that his neck became stiff and swollen.; he could not straighten it when he climbed down from the scaffold and had to read letters holding them up with his head bent backwards. In hot weather it was stiflingly hot and the plaster dust irritated his skin; in all weathers the paint dripped down upon his face, his hair and his beard. “The place is wrong, and no painter I” he lamented in a sonnet he was describing his exhausting work. “My painting all the day doth drop a rich Mosaic on my face. I live in great toil and weariness of body” he wrote to his brother. “I have no friends … and don’t want any, and haven’t the time to eat what I need.”

The Sistine Chapel by Rome City Apartments

He was plagued by his patron who insisted upon being let into the chapel to see what he was paying for. The Pope kept asking when it would be finished, as he clambered up the scaffold with his stick, impatient to have the Sistine Chapel opened before he died. “How much longer will it take?” ”When it satisfies me as an artist” Michelangelo replied on one occasion, eliciting from Julius the angry reply. “And we want you to satisfy us and to finish soon”. Later Michelangelo refused to commit himself further than to say he would finish it when he could. “When I can! when I can!” the Pope infuriated shouted back at him. “What do you mean when I can? I’ll soon make you finish it!”. He hit him with his stick, the threatened to hurl him off the scaffold if he did not get on quickly. After these outbursts came apologies. The pope chamberlain would call at Michelangelo’s house with presents of monies, with excuses and apologies, explaining that such treatment was meant as a favour and a mark of affection.

At last, after nearly four years’ work, the scaffolding was removed. But the artist was still not satisfied; there were touches that he wanted to add, backgrounds and draperies he wanted enliven with ultramarine, details to enrich with gold. But the pope would wait no longer. Even before the dust had settled after the dismantling of the scaffolding, he rushed into the Sistine Chapel to look at the astonishing achievement of more than three hundred figures, many of them painted three and even four times life size. On the morning of 31 October 1512 the pope celebrated Mass inside the Chapel and afterwards, in Vasari’s words, the whole of Rome came running to see what Michelangelo had done.; and certainly it was such as to make everyone speechless with astonishment.

Now, over seventy and in the last year of his life, he felt that the time for the Last Judgment was coming also for him, so the Pope thought once more of his uncompleted tomb to which Michelangelo returned most eagerly. And although the Tomb was never finished as originally intended, out of its grand conception came one masterpiece that can still be seen in Rome, the vibrant statue of Moses in S. Pietro in Vincoli. News of the death of the Pope Julius II on 20 February 1513 was received in Rome with utmost sorrow. Women were seen weeping in the streets as they waited their turn to kiss the pontifical feet which were left protruding from the grille of the mortuary chapel.; men were told each other that they would not live to see another pope who was at once so staunch a patriot and so munificent a patron. The city of Rome was thronged with mourning crowds so numerous that the dead man’s Master of Ceremonies had never known the like in forty years’ residence in the city.

You might be interested to read also: The Fury of the Last Judgement

The Colosseum as it was by Rome City Apartments

“Rome has been restored to herself” wrote the Spanish poet Martial when the “far-seen amphitheater” was nearing completion. “What was formerly a tyrant’s delight is now the delight of people”. The tyrant’s colossal column, the figure on the summit replaced by that of the sun-god, still stood nearby and it was possibly this, rather than the vast size of the Colosseum itself, that gave the amphitheater its name. The measurements were daunting. Its oval ground area, 617 feet long by 513 feet wide, enclosed an arena 282 feet by 177 feet. The surrounding walls rose in four storeys to a height of 187 feet. The top floor, an enclosed, colonnaded gallery, was reserved for women  and the poor, who sat on wooden seats; the floor immediately below this, also enclosed, was reserved for slaves and foreigners; beneath this were tiers of exposed marble seats, the higher for the middle class, the lower for more distinguished citizens. Just above the level of the ringside were the boxes of the Senators, magistrates, priests, Vestal Virgins and members of the Emperor’s family. High overhead on the roof of the topmost gallery were sailors expert in the handling of canvas whose duty it was to pull across a coloured awning to protect the spectators from rain or the heat of the sun. In all about fifty thousand spectators could be accommodated.

The gladiators combat, adopted by the Romans from the Etruscans, had lost most of their religious, sacrificial significance and had become part of that system by which the authorities placated the people of Rome, a large proportion of whom were always unemployed (as now in Europe), by providing them with regular entertainment as well as with free distributions of food (unlike today in Europe). Relics of their religious past lingered on, however: the games, for instance, were also known as munera, offerings; and the attendant who made sure that a fallen gladiator was dead by delivering a coup de grâce to the head was usually dressed as Charon, ferryman of the souls of the dead across the river Styx from the upper world into Hades. Yet these were mere trappings. Great men vied with each other in the presentation of more and more spectacular games, not so much as sacrifices to the spirits of the dead as for their own glory and to gain the gratitude of the people, while the imperial court valued them as vital social bond bringing the Emperor closer to the populace.

Kirk Douglas in the Movie Spartacus by Rome City Apartments

The games usually began early in the morning with a parade of gladiators, dressed in purple and gold cloaks, driving round the arena in chariots. The gladiators then marched around on foot, followed by slaves carrying their weapons, shields and plumed helmets, and ended in front of the Emperor’s box where they thrust their right arms forward from their naked chests, shouting ‘Ave Cesare! We men who are about to die salute thee’(Morituri te salutant). They then marched off to await their turn to fight, for the spectacle was generally opened not by them but by comic turns in which clowns and cripples, dwarfs and obese women pretended to fight each other with wooden swords and threw themselves to the ground in extravagant representations of paroxysmal death.

The gladiators reappeared to the cheers of the crowd and the blast of the trumpets. Some carried heavy swords or lances and wore armour on their arms and legs; others, with little protection apart from a shoulder piece, had nets in which they hoped to be able to entangle their opponents before dispatching them with thrust of a spear. When the fighting began the shouts of the crowd grew louder and more excited. ‘Habet, he’s got him!’ ‘Lash him!’ ‘Strike him!’ ‘Burn!’ ‘Kill!’ ‘Whip him to fight harder!’ ‘Why does he meet the sword so timidly?’ ‘Why doesn’t he die like a man?’. But soon individual voices and cries were lost in the wild and deafening uproar. A wounded gladiator who fell to the ground could appeal for mercy by casting aside his shield and raising his left hand. His opponent could, in the absence of the Emperor, kill or spare him as he chose. If the Emperor were present, the choice was his. As the spectators screamed their preference he made his decision known, either by raising his thumb as a sign of reprieve or by turning it down as a verdict of death.

The Colosseum nowadays by Rome City Apartments

Successful gladiators were the heroes of the day; and there were those, unlike the impressed criminals and prisoners of war, who chose the precarious existence in the hope of achieving fame and the admiration of women. It was a hard life, though, as well as an obviously dangerous one. The training was long and exacting; and, if the medical attention and the meals supplied in the gladiators schools were adequate, the quarters in which the men were lodged were usually cramped and foul. Fights between gladiators were but one of the spectacles that the Colosseum had to offer. There were boxing matches, archery contests, women swordsmen, fights between charioteers, all of them often accompanied by the music of bands and hydraulic organs. Above all, there were wild beasts shows in which thousands of animals were slashed to death.

Russel Crowe in the movie The Gladiator by Rome City Apartments

As revered as successful gladiators were the charioteers of the circus, where performances were staged before audiences as enthusiastic if not as large as those in the Colosseum. There were several circuses in Rome, the Circus Flaminius which had been built in the days of the Republic, the Circus Gaius inaugurated by Caligula, and, most splendid of all, the Circus Maximus which, in use perhaps since the time of Roman Kings, had been improved and enlarged by Julius Caesar and could accommodate well over 150.000 spectators. Here, in the immense arena eventually measuring 1800 feet by 600 and surrounded by shops and eating places, by taverns and the booths of prostitutes and fortune-tellers, horse races and chariot races took place in atmosphere of noisy excitement, betting frenzy and amorous intrigue. In fact Ovid advised in his Art of Love:
Many are the opportunities that await you in the circus. No one will prevent you from sitting next to a girl. Get as close to her as you can. That’s easy enough, for the seating is cramped anyway. Find an excuse to talk to her…ask her what horses are entering the ring and which ones she fancies. Approve her choices…if, as is likely, a speck of dust falls into her lap, brush it gently away; and, even if no dust falls, pretend it has done and brush her lap just the same. If her cloak trails on the ground gather up them and lift it from the dirt. She will certainly let you have a glimpse of her legs…the deft arrangement of a cushion has often helped a lover…Such are the advantages which circuses offers to a man for an affair.

In fact, it looks like an ancient version of the daily chronicles of “modern” Italian “pappagalli” approaching good looking tourists in front of the Trevi Fountain.

Rainbow Magicland in Rome by Rome City Apartments

Today some monsters came and took me and my sister and daddy and mommy to a magic place. Daddy says that they took us to a magic third dimension. At first I was a bit scared but then I jumped into daddy’s arms and he gave me a big hug so I was no longer scared.  I decided that I would be princess Belle, even if I like more Princess Aurora, and my sister princess Ariel, but without the fish queue as otherwise she could not walk. It was a marvelous trip and I liked very much the Ice cream. The Winx get their Ice Creams at the Frutti Music Bar, I’ve seen this on my daddy’s IPAD. We traveled with a space ship and after a while we arrived in front of the entrance of the Rainbow Magicland in the countryside of Rome, a city where there is also a countryside and the Colosseum, an old place where the gladiators were fighting and people were looking at them. The Magicland is an area where there are many magic things and where Bloom and Stella and Flora and Musa and Aisha and Techna are living. Also Roxy is there; the other Winx are telling her that she is a fairy but she doesn’t believe it, as she thinks she is a human being. But I think she is a fairy as I’ve seen in an episode that when she gets angry she turns into a fairy. But the real Winx are living in another planet, not in Magicland I think, but I ‘m not sure.

The entrance of the Rainbow Magicland amusment park

At the entrance of this magic land there were 2 strange monsters that were  a little bit like eagles and a little bit like dragons. I would have been scared of those two monsters if they were real, but they were made of rock, so they were not real. Daddy gave some money to enter and they gave him the tickets and a map. Daddy says that also dreams have a price.

The statue at the entrance by Rome CIty Apartments

These are monsters of the mythology. I’ve seen this in a book with other monsters like Medusa and her sisters Gorgons and the flying horse Unicorn, but maybe the flying horse had not a horn in his forehead, I can’t remember.

The Rollercoaster of the Rainbow Magicland park

The first thing we did is the roller coaster that went up and down and I was scared to fall but mommy said that I should not worry and I’ve seen people screaming with their heads upside down.

Magic houses at Rainbow Magicland

I’ve seen houses with many colors and there was a woman that seemed upset because someone asked her to do something but she didn’t want to.

Monsters in the land of Magic by Rome City Apartments

I also met some eagles with glasses that were standing guard over a house making sure no one would enter.

The Winx by Rome City Apartments

This land is magic but we still had to do some queues to enter the magic world of the Winx. So it was not magic enough to avoid queues. We traveled with a ship and it was dark but all my favorite Winx and their world I’ve seen so many times on Tv were there and liked this very much, more than anything else. My sister was sitting near me and mommy and daddy were behind me and I was holding the hand of dad over my shoulder to make sure he would not disappear.

Scaring

There was a big animal, an hippopotamus, with his mouth open wide and I went into it as I knew it was funny and not dangerous: hippopotamus are not eating kids. I remember a song with the hippopotamus and I liked it (click here to listen to the song).

The entrance of a restaurant of the Rainbow Magicland park

At some point I was hungry and thirsty so I told daddy that I wanted to eat and it was so cool as daddy allowed me to eat French fries which he never allows me to eat and he also allowed me to taste some coke. He said it was a special day and so I was allowed to have just a couple sips of coke and also my sister was allowed to give it a try. I decided that when I will be an adult I will always drink coke as I liked it so much.

Cool

As it was warm we went into an ice street where I was dancing and the pulverized ice as daddy says came into my face and at the end I was wet but I didn’t feel the need to cry as It was funny.

Spash!

Next thing was a boat that went down so fast and the water came all over my face. It was so exciting that I did it twice. First time with mommy and second time with dad, as my sister didn’t want do try it as she was scared.

Boats at Magic land by Rome City Apartments

Then we went into another round boat that was going down fast but not as fast as the first one and that is why also my sister did it. As we were completely wet we went into a big hair dryer to dry off at the end.

The planetarium of Magic Land

When we were dry enough we walked into the Planetarium and I watched the planets and the stars and the moon and the space that I studied at school. I will tell my teacher that I’ve seen the stars for real and that I walked on the moon.

The Minotaur at Rainbow Magicland

When I came out from the planetarium I saw a big monster with some horns. I think he had the head of a bull and the body of a human being, which reminded me of the Minotaur that dad showed me in a book of Greek mythology, the same of the Medusa and the Gorgons.

Annie are you ok?

I heard some music and many chariots with strange people passed by. One of them was dressed like a monster but I was not scared as I knew it was a normal person dressed like a monster and he looked more like a clown. I am not a child to believe this, I’ve seen many during Carnival. He was asking “Annie are you ok? So Annie are you ok? Are you ok Annie?” and I said yes, I am ok. Then he insisted “Annie are you ok when you tell us that you’re ok Annie”? “Yes, I am ok”, but then again “Will you tell us that you’re ok Annie?”. So I walked away because as I thought he was stupid as he was always asking the same thing and he was not listening to my answers.

A parade at Magicland by Rome City Apartments

Other chariots with many people dancing passed by but I liked them more as they were not always asking the same thing.

The Houdini House of Rainbow Magicland, in Valmontone, Rome

Mommy and daddy took us to a haunted house. We went into a strange lift that went down into  a cave and then we sit and many magic things appeared and everything was moving but I was not scared I just wanted to have the ice cream that dad promised me. So we went for the ice cream.

The lake and the Castle of the Rainbow Magicland Park, Valmontone, Rome

After the ice cream an angel came and told us it was time to go back home.

Rainbow Magicland by Rome City Apartments

So we just said goodbye to the Magicland.

The Winx by Rome City Apartments

And we said goodbye to the Winx. And I asked dad when we would come back and dad promised that we would come back but as he didn’t say when I insisted. I asked if it was possible to come back tomorrow but daddy just smiled to me.

2012 Copyright Rome City Apartments. © All rights reserved For images and texts.

The church of Santa Maria in Trastevere by night - Rome City Apartments

Trastevere – the perfect stepping stone for discovering Rome’s treasures. Across the Tiber from Rome’s most famous attractions lies the neighbourhood of Trastevere.  James Whiting discovers another Roman jewel not to be missed.

Located in the nook of the west bank of the River Tiber, across from the old walls of the city, and just south of the Vatican, Trastevere is surely the most romantic, colourful neighbourhood to visit in Rome. But there’s more to discover than most visitors expect.

The charming cobbled streets, flanked by charismatic medieval houses, are awash with local and international sightseers by day. Come nightfall, bars and restaurants buzz with a hip mix of Italians and tourists. Narrow, zig-zagging laneways create a chaotic maze in which it is easy to lose your way… unless you have a good map and a seasoned navigator.

Initially, this town was not governed under ancient Rome and was named after its location across the river – tras translating as across, and Tevere the Italian name for the River Tiber. Despite its gentrification, the village within a city retains its rough, rustic edge.

The view from the Janiculum Hill by Rome City Apartments

I recently moved to Rome with my wife for her work. Aside from some patchy memories left over from high school history lessons, neither of us knew much about this popular tourist destination. Having worn several trails across various remote corners of the globe, we jumped at the opportunity to begin exploring modern day Rome and learning about its fascinating, ancient history and civilisation.

We followed the advice of some friends and booked an apartment for one month in the centre of Trastevere. This short settlement would give us ample time to find a more permanent home while providing excellent proximity to some of Rome’s best known attractions.

If you like to walk, Trastevere provides the perfect stepping stone for launching yourself into the famous ancient wonders. The Pantheon, Colosseum and Vatican, can easily be reached on foot within 30 minutes. In my view, there is no better way to explore a city than by getting lost, wandering the back streets between the major sites (and sights). The lack of easy access to this area by public transport generates even greater incentive to fasten up your trainers (‘sneakers’ for you Yanks), reach for your hat and sunglasses, and march about like the ancient Romans.

The Tiberina Island by Rome City Apartments

Despite common reports of pick-pocketing, central Rome is generally a safe city. You can feel comfortable at any time of the day. If you wander the public squares (piazzas), streets and alleyways at midnight you have the opportunity to get to know the splendour of the ancient city from a different, more romantic perspective. The streets and buildings are illuminated by orange street lights creating much the same effect as in the times when they were lit by torches and oil lamps.

The entrance to Trastevere from the old city begins at Isola Tiberina. This island sits in the middle of the Tiber, spanned by a bridge which connects it to the old Jewish ghetto. Three thousand years ago, this was the first area to be crossed by overpass and provided a launching pad to the Mediterranean for fisherman.

One hundred metres down river, the modern commuter bridge, Ponte Palatino is accompanied by a single arch. These are the remains of Ponte Rotto (broken bridge), a former crossing which sits stranded in the centre of the river.

The perfect road to begin exploring the west of the river is Via Della Lungaretta. The primary walkway through Trastevere has little traffic and bisects the tram tracks of Viale di Trastevere (Trastevere Avenue). The street is littered with pizzerias and bars, and offers incredible, early examples of Christian churches: the most famous, Santa Maria della Scala, rests in the heart of Trastevere and is one of the oldest churches in Rome, dating back to the 340s.

During the period of the Roman Republic (which began around 509 BC), the population grew from an influx of sailors and fisherman, and immigrants from the East. The town’s population is now a mix of mainly Roman, Greek and Jewish ancestry who converted to Christianity. Living away from the powerful centre, the locals felt more independent to worship freely in their own churches. These older traditions and architecture have been preserved and Trastevere provides a wonderful setting to explore medieval Rome.

During a whistlestop tour of Rome, it is common for tourists to spend no more than a couple of hours in Trastevere. This section of the city can sometimes become flooded with visitors who have been lured by the magic of this exceptional neighbourhood. Yet, it never feels as packed as other parts of the city. The area is quite large; making it is easy to move away and discover the old Trastevere magic.

Beyond the plaza, the back streets wind away from the river. Here you can discover a secret, hidden city, rooftop terraces, a flurry of colourful flowers, and green vines and drying laundry competing for attention as they reach across narrow lanes. The streets east of the plaza are so popular for tourists and their cameras that the locals’ undergarments are surely more photographed than Marilyn Monroe’s.

The heart of Trastevere by Rome City Apartments

A steep climb up into the hills of Janiculum is rewarded with an excellent vantage point over the entire city. Be warned, this exercise requires a good storage of carbohydrates; so stock up on pizza, pasta (or any other Italian delight) and prepare yourself for the challenge of numerous steps and hills. Alternatively, catch one of the cutest electric buses ever designed and which appears to have been squashed between two older brothers. These half-length people carriers have been assigned the task of public service around the back streets of Tratstevere. Indeed, so cute, they feel as though they have been borrowed from the set of the old children’s BBC TV show, Postman Pat (see link to youtube). Perhaps when they grow up, they will graduate to the bigger, scarier roads over the river.

Despite the flood of tourists, every feature of Trastevere reveals the pride that locals and the city take in the preservation of history and culture. Written guides often warn of streets jammed with tour buses, sidewalk vendors, noisy pubs and dance clubs. However, despite the obvious tourist deals and bilingual menus, this charming town never generates a negative atmosphere – more a feeling of appreciation and respect for the conservation of middle-ages magic.

Italy is famous for its cuisine; a menu which has been exported and abused around the world in the forms of deep-pan frozen pizzas or cheap and nasty packet pasta. One of the best ways to sample delicious Roman fare for good value is through the buffet (aperitivo) which accompanies alcoholic beverages after 7pm. My experience in Italy so far reveals it is almost impossible to go through the day without one of the three Italian staples – cheese, bread or tomato. Ooh, and don’t forget olive oil. It’s not Italian cuisine if it is not drizzled in olive oil. A taste of an aperativo in Trastevere is enough to make weight watchers feel guilty. Don’t Italians live longer on this Mediterranean diet? One wonders how they manage to stay looking so lean and trim.

Some of the more lively areas centre around Piazza di Santa Maria and the streets of Via Della Lungaretta, Via Del Moro and Vicolo del Cinque. If you have an apartment here (as we do) don’t attempt to get to sleep without a good set of earplugs (available at any local pharmacy). But don’t let this put you off visiting this area at any time of day. The vibrant atmosphere simply adds to the many mystical wonders of the neighbourhood.

Indeed, some of Trastevere’s older residents are so independent and proud that it is not unusual for one to brag that they have never crossed into the historic centre. For decades they were known for a rougher, local dialect than the language spoken across the river. Even their cuisine was dished up with a little more spice.

So many wonderful stories capture the imagination of young and old and often historians battle over the facts about some ancient myths and legends. One such tale caught my attention when researching the history of the town that sits across the water.

In 6 BC, the invading armies of Lars Porsena threatened to overwhelm the city through the only entrance between the city walls. The bridge, Ponte Sablicius, stood approximately where Ponte Palatino stands today. A poem by Lord Macaulay titled Horatius Defends the Bridge, paints a vivid picture about the heroics of three great warriors.

The invaders, coming from Trastevere, had to cross the bridge over the Tiber to reach Rome proper. Three brave Romans led by Horatius volunteered to defend it against them while the bridge behind them was demolished. As the bridge crashed into the water, the heroes leapt into the Tiber to swim back to the other side.

 Five of Lord Macaulay’s rollicking verses give a sense of the event:

Then out spake brave Horatius,
The Captain of the Gate:
“To every man upon this earth
Death cometh soon or late.
And how can man die better
Than facing fearful odds,
For the ashes of his fathers,
And the temples of his gods,

Then out spake Spurius Lartius;
A Ramnian proud was he:
“Lo, I will stand at thy right hand,
And keep the bridge with thee.”
And out spake strong Herminius;
Of Titian blood was he:
“I will abide on thy left side,
And keep the bridge with thee.”

The Three stood calm and silent,
And looked upon the foes,
And a great shout of laughter
From all the vanguard rose:
And forth three chiefs came spurring
Before that deep array;
To earth they sprang, their swords they drew,
And lifted high their shields, and flew
To win the narrow way;

The battle follows, and because of the narrow entrance to the bridge the brave soldiers, although heavily outnumbered, managed to defend the city from the invaders. Then…

“Oh, Tiber! Father Tiber!
To whom the Romans pray,
A Roman’s life, a Roman’s arms,
Take thou in charge this day!”
So he spake, and speaking sheathed
The good sword by his side,
And with his harness on his back,
Plunged headlong in the tide.

No sound of joy or sorrow
Was heard from either bank;
But friends and foes in dumb surprise,
With parted lips and straining eyes,
Stood gazing where he sank;
And when above the surges,
They saw his crest appear,
All Rome sent forth a rapturous cry,
And even the ranks of Tuscany
Could scarce forbear to cheer.

Fantastic stuff.

Events in Trastevere not to be missed

The Porta Portese in Trastevere is an open-air flea market that takes place every Sunday morning. Here you’ll find everything from antique souvenirs to vintage clothing and second-hand bicycles.

Every July, Trastevere hosts Festa di Noantri (our feast), a festival which provides locals the opportunity to show off some of their magic. The large and narrow streets are packed with food stalls, music and entertainments.

© 2012 All rights reserved – Rome City Apartments

The Liberty apartment by Rome City Apartments

In 1965, in the last episode in black and white of The Ed Sullivan Show, The Beatles sang “She’s got a ticket to ride“, but no one could imagine that the happy ride of the Western bourgeoisie was to finish soon. The first stop was felt sharply in 1962 when the Americans had been awakened in the middle of the night with the cold sweat of a nuclear fever of Caribbean origin. But then the sea eagle knocked out the Siberian bear and it seemed, at least for a while, that everything would continue as before. One morning, however, the world woke up and discovered that John Kennedy, the hope for a better world, had been assassinated in Dallas, Texas, on 11 November 1963, 12.30 local time; then it turned out that Vietnam was a dirty war and soon the young Westerners discovered that the dreams of Martin Luther King had been killed before they were even born, and so they chose to screw up the world built by their fathers, and therefore the ’68 arrived. The sons decided to disown their fathers and preferred to declare themselves the flower children and to make love instead of war; it seemed that the pollen of the flower children could also take root in the east, and in fact there was a very early spring in 1968 in Prague, Czechoslovakia . Soon, however, the spring flowers of Bohemia were crushed by steel and in the east everything started again, just as before. In the West, however, change and social conflict crept deep into the 70s and  the world will never be the same again.

In Italy the winds of change of ’68 soon became an hurricane that threatened to overwhelm everything: the red terrorism of the Brigate Rosse, the black terrorism of the Nuclei Armati Rivoluzionari, the introduction of divorce in 1974, the feminists who take to the streets screaming “The vagina is mine and I decide how to run it “, the wealthy intelligentsia preaching the Bolshevik revolution in Italy, but especially the inexorable growth of consent for the Communist party are scaring to death the Italian middle class that feels helpless in front of a society that they no longer understand.

The poster of the movie "Un borghese piccolo piccolo", by Rome City Apartments

In the great movie “Un borghese piccolo piccolo” ( “A small small bourgeois”), released in 1977, the desperation, this feeling of helplessness, but also the tiny middle-class mentality of these years are masterfully rendered by the actor. In the movie Sordi is a civil servant who, before retiring, wants to find a job for his son, as in Italy it was -and unfortunately still is- normal that it’s a parent duty to find a job for their children, even when they are over 20 . Obviously, again as per a typically Italian mentality, the job must be a state job and, it goes without saying, it’s not important how you get it as long as you get it; in short, the end justifies the means. So the hero does not hesitate to become a Mason for convenience only and in this way he is able to get secretly the content of the public competition in which his son must participate to achieve the long sought after job, guaranteed by the state. The examination is then prepared before, the son of the protagonist learns the task by heart and finally the big day arrives. In the morning everything takes place as usual: Mom makes breakfast and Italian coffee, the father makes sure that his beloved son remembers well by heart all the answers and finally they leave their Roman apartment to take the subway, not suspecting that their lives are coming to a point of no return.

Father and son are on the square, in front of the building where the competition will take place, but at this point faith walks onto the stage. In the nearby bank a robbery is in progress, two thugs come out shooting and a bullet accidentally hits the son, who falls dead. But desperation cannot revive the dead, and Alberto understands that in this case Freemasonry won’t be able to help, nor are there any compromises that might revive his son. If, however, it’s not possible to resuscitate his beloved son at least he can do something that will smoothen his pain. The police calls him a few days later to show him two persons that could be the murderers of his son. He saw their faces on this dog’s day, and therefore he recognizes them immediately. But when the cops ask him if he recognized them, he denies it: “No, I am sure it’s not them.” The two are then released and Alberto follows them. He just responds to his instinct, nothing is planned, but he decides to “kidnap” them. He manages to knock them, load them into his car and then takes them to his country house, where he keeps them tied. Meanwhile his wife, grief stricken for her son, has a stroke and is now paralyzed in bed, like a vegetable. In a touching scene Alberto speaks to her, recounts her everything, but she cannot understand, she cannot respond. Alone in front of his grief, he decides to take the law into his own hands and begins to torture to death the two thugs. It seems that this feeling of powerlessness of the bourgeoisie, who does not feel protected by the state, and decides to take the law into his own hands is common in that period, also across the ocean. The theme of the movie “Death Wish” (1974) with Charles Bronson is similar, although the tone is different, more exaggerated.

Alberto Sordi in the movie "As long as there is war there is hope", by Rome City Apartments

In Italy a part of the bourgeoisie is captured by the communist ideology; they are wealthy, they represent the typical enemy of the people to be sent to the gulag for the Bolsheviks behind the Iron Curtain, but they seem not to realize this and would like to see the communist party seizing the power also in Italy. The same “phenomenon” can be observed in France and they are called the “gauche caviar” (kind of “communists” with a caviar flavor). They consider themselves the custodians of morality and they feel entitled to judge negatively the capitalist society, even though they are the typical outcome of this society. So Alberto Sordi plays in “Finché c’è guerra c’è speranza” (As long as there is war there is hope, 1974)”, a film that highlights these contradictions. It’s the story of an arms merchant, who made his fortune selling arms to African countries in perpetual war with each other. He is a perfect businessman so selling arms or selling soap makes no difference for him. His family, wife and children, are spoiled and live in luxury and they do not care about the moral implications of the business of the protagonist. As long as Dad pays the expensive bills of all their whims, everything is for the best in the best of all possible worlds. But the unexpected is just around the corner: a journalist who investigated him dedicates to Alberto and his business the front page article on the main Italian newspaper calling him a “merchant of death”, a vile person.

The scene of his return home, immediately after the article has been published, is memorable: Alberto is put on trial by his son and by his daughter, by his wife, by all his relatives. They say they are shocked, ashamed of having a father like that, but they are mostly concerned about what other “right-thinking” people (the gauche caviar), will think and say about them. Finally the hero, after undergoing this process in silence, calmly tells them: “Well, if you wish, tomorrow I’ll change my job, I will start again to sell agricultural equipment as I did before, but bear in mind one thing: we will live a decent life but not certainly a luxurious life as we have until now. I leave the choice to you. I just got back from a trip, I’m tired and I’m going to bed. If you want me to continue to sell arms, and therefore continue with the kind of life you’re having now, wake me up in one hour, as I have an important business meeting already fixed . However, if you want me to start again selling agricultural equipment and you’re willing to change your lifestyle, then wake me up tomorrow morning, as there is no hurry.” Then he goes to sleep and he is awakened by the maid, nobody else is at home. Having deeply slept he doesn’t realize what time it is, then he looks at the alarm clock and he sees that only an hour has passed since he went to sleep. And so, everything starts again as before.

We are now entering the 80ies, the plastic years. The middle class reacts and elects a couple of representatives who will crush the bones of the trade unions and, aided by a Polish pope, to the communist ideology, the empire of evil. The restoration is coming, to the delight of conservatives, as we shall see in the latter part of the saga of Alberto Sordi, profession: actor.

Alberto Sordi and Claudia Cardinale

If in antiquity the world ended with the Pillars of Hercules, in the 50ies the border of the world is the Iron Curtain. Everything is simple, so to speak: on one side the good ones, on the other side the bad ones. Obviously, on which side are the good ones and on which are the bad ones is just a matter of points of view. The raise of Communism, despite the death of Stalin, seems unstoppable and soon Cuba will become a thorn in the heart of the United States. The Reds have already figured out that we’re living in a small planet, so the Sputnik is rocketed into the space. Despite western propaganda pictures the Bolsheviks as ready to turn into Dr. Strangelove, Sting, with the power of poetry, will ask us years later “Do the Russians love their children too?”. Despite this, those were times of optimism and economic growth in the Western world, and the fundamental values ​​of the middle-class families were not yet questioned. Certainly, the raise of Elvis the Pelvis brings a fresh and non-conventional sensuality in the air . Those were years when, due to the emergence of a strong and extensive middle class, modern democracy lived its best years. However the duo Mc Carthy – Hoover begins to sow a poison on the slippery ground of the individual rights: according to this poisonous concept, in some “emergency” cases, a democratic state may suspend the respect of the democratic rights that he had established. The problem, as we shall see later, is to ask who and when and for how long – and in what circumstances-may determine exceptions, that may not remain exceptions once disregarded, whatever the reason.

In Italy the economic growth is preparing to explode in a spectacular fashion at the end of the 50ies, in which the records of the Italian GDP growth matches those of China in the third millennium. But perhaps it would be better to speak of two Italys: the South remains underdeveloped and a land of emigration, while northern Italy transforms the whole country in a real industrial power.

The Parioli apartment by Rome City Apartments

Alberto Sordi greatly interprets the spirit of the times in the movie “Il Marito” (The Husband) in 1957. Here he plays a businessman and, more specifically, a real estate entrepreneur, who is facing problems in his professional and private life. The Italian economic “miracle” is on stage, but as with all realities, even the most scintillating, there’s always a downside. The main character, in fact, is on the verge of bankruptcy and so Alberto, despite being married to Elena, is flirting with a rich and old widow, who, to support him financially, asks him to accept an intimate and unprofessional “business Travel”. On the other hand, Elena, from sweet girlfriend has turned into a domineering wife, who wants to impose to him to live with her mother and sister. The protagonist, though crushed by family and economic problems, is smart, just as many Italians, and therefore he accepts the proposal for this “business travel” with the wealthy widow. However his wife, thanks to an unerring feminine intuition, understands the situation and simulates an attack of appendicitis on the eve of the departure of her husband, for which she is transported to the hospital, forcing Alberto to cancel his “business” plans. The rich widow then suspends the funding and the company of  Alberto goes bankrupt. But every cloud has a silver lining and the protagonist, in a country that offered many opportunities, changes job, and becomes an ice creams salesman; his new job brings some peace to his marriage and, at the same time, allows him to woo all the women he meets just as a real Latin lover.

A typically Italian feature consists in a country that has an entrepreneurial class that has done and is still able to achieve “miracles”, but a public authority which, at all levels, makes of its arrogance, inefficiency and dishonesty a hallmark. In several movies of those years Alberto Sordi highlights the rotten soul of our public authorities. In “L’arte di arrangiarsi” (1955) he interprets a typical Italian politician, which we have not yet managed to get rid of: corrupt, transformist, opportunistic. In “Il Vigile” (The Policeman), a masterpiece of 1960, is the typical civil servant, representing power the Italian way: strong with the weak, weak with the strong.

In “Il Vedovo” (The widow) of 1959, another real chef d’oeuvre, Alberto, coupled with the excellent Franca Valeri, is a cynical man without qualities, aspiring entrepreneur, married with a rich and capable, but cold as ice, Elvira. Dazzled by the success of many Italian entrepreneurs, he ventures into various businesses, which invariably prove to be financial disasters. For a while, his rich wife pays his debts, but at some point, with icy determination, she refuses to get him out of trouble. Debt-ridden, and hounded by creditors, and mocked by Elvira who contemptuously calls him “cretinetti” (idiot), he decides to kill his wife to inherit her fortune. But the inability of Alberto is total, and hence the various attempts to kill his wife prove to be failures, like everything in the life of the protagonist, and finally, supreme twist of fate, he will end being the victim of his conspiracies, falling into the void of an elevator shaft that had been tampered appropriately to simulate an accident.

But Italy also has “ordinary” heroes, “ordinary” people that in everyday life do not accept compromises, even if it is not convenient for their

Alberto Sordi and Franca Valeri in the movie "The widow" by Rome City Apartments

careers. Italy’s problem is that these virtuous behaviors are almost always individual, never “collective”, as they should be to ensure the proper functioning of society. Alberto Sordi, for once, plays a positive character: the Deputy Police Commissioner Dante Lombardozzi in the movie “Il Commissario”, 1962 (The Commissioner), who must investigate the death, apparently by accident, of a famous politician and university professor. But his investigations are unwelcome by his superiors and by the victim’s family. But the deputy commissioner is able to discover that in fact it is a murder committed by a prostitute who spent the whole night with the politician before he died. More: the murder was committed with the complicity of other persons, including the brother of the victim, and the person who appears as the culprit of the car crash is actually innocent. When his superiors ask him to cover up the investigations and to prosecute the innocent, the protagonist decides to resign from the police, as he does not accept to compromise his principles.

The poste of the movie "The husband" by Rome City Apartments

Great artists know that the truth always has two faces and is never one-dimensional. So Alberto Sordi tells the bitter reality of those emigrating from Italy in search of fortune and, specifically in this case, going to Australia. Beside the beauty of Claudia Cardinale he plays “Bello, Onesto, Emigrato in Australia sposerebbe Compaesana Illibata” (Handsome, Honest, emigrated to Australia would marry Virgin –Italian- Lady). The film was realized in 1971, but the phenomenon of emigration from the poorer areas of Italy is typical of these years. The other face of emigration, the dramatic situation of an emigrant returning home to Italy just to clash with the Kafkaesque Italian reality is “Detenuto in attesa di giudizio” (An inmate awaiting trial), also realized in 1971. In both films the interpretation of Sordi is masterful. In the former he plays a simple minded Italian immigrated in Australia; he has to deal with epilepsy, but he is honest and hard-worker; he lives in a lilliputian Australian village in the middle of nowhere and he is looking for a wife, an Italian wife of course; and, above all, she must be a virgin, as this “value” is still what makes the difference between good girls and whores. So he puts an ad in an Italian newspaper -the title of the movie- in which he admittedly looks for a candid woman, willing to come to Australia to marry him. It goes without saying, a prostitute in search of a better life, Claudia Cardinale in the movie, responds to the ad, attracted to the photo of the man that put the AD. Is this Alberto? No, it’s his friend’s portrait, as he knew that, being not so attractive, it would have been more effective to show a handsome man to attract good looking women; still, he hopes that unveiling at the appropriate time won’t compromise the marriage. Once in Australia, Claudia Cardinale firmly refuses to marry him and she is desperate as she has been tricked to come to the other side of the world. By chance she meets his handsome friend and she is ready to  marry him and to start a new life; but one cannot escape from his own destiny: in fact she soon finds out that he is a pimp and that he only wants to make money out of her. But she will refuse to resume her “Italian life” and will agree to marry the good hearted Albert who, on his side, will accept a beautiful wife, even though she was a prostitute.

In “An inmate awaiting trial”  Sordi is an Italian land surveyor emigrated to Sweden, coming back to his country for holidays, driving a nice Volvo with his wife and two children. But at the border, without knowing the reason – just as Joseph K. in “The Trial” – he is arrested. The analogy with the Kafkaesque story stops here, because Alberto starts a realistic ordeal, in realistic Italian prisons, facing realistic judges and public officials, who are more concerned about their business then about the devastating consequences of their superficial behavior on peoples’ lives. Transported from one prison to another, in contact with a reality that he had never known, the protagonist loses his mental health before being released because, in fact, everything turned out to be just a “mistake”. But the consequences on his mental health will remain and, as it always happens in Italy, the civil servants that were responsible for this “mistake” won’t pay the consequences, and won’t even be aware that they have destroyed the life of a good person.
We are now in the 60′s, the nuclear threat will held the entire world in suspense, and the contagion of the “red” virus will challenge dramatically the values ​​of the Western bourgeoisie. And Alberto Sordi will brilliantly represent those dramatic changes in his own, unique way. Soon on this blog.

Copywright 2012 Rome City Apartments ©