Livy's History Notes

By Kristin L. Fredrickson with Andrew G. Miller

An Invitation

There’s no place like Rome. Founded in 753 BC, according to legend by the city’s first king, Romulus, it was the world’s headquarters for over a thousand years during the Empire. The city contains layers upon layers of archeological treasures. A center of art and architecture, culture and cuisine, Rome is one of the most visited cities in the world.

I invite you on a three-month journey inside Rome and beyond through the journal of your tour guide, Kristin, her husband, and your driver, Andrew, and their six-month-old English springer spaniel, Titus Livius—Livy for short. Yes, you read that right, they are traveling with a six-month-old puppy, and that’s not half as funny as the tales you will read along the way.

This isn’t Kristin and Andrew’s first rodeo. In fact, they have traveled together to over one hundred countries, so you will be in their good, capable hands. Kristin was a Classical Humanities major at The Ohio State University and has carried a passion for history with her throughout their travels. She continues to be an avid student of history, as is evident in the bibliography that follows, and she has a true gift for bringing history to life in an interesting and entertaining way. In addition to travel and history, Kristin and Andrew are avid foodies. Throughout your journey, you will read some mouthwatering descriptions of feasts you can almost taste.

Speaking of food, your journey’s icing on the cake is a trip through Greece. Located at the geographic and historic crossroads of Europe, Asia, and Africa, Greece is considered the cradle of Western civilization. The territory was annexed by Rome from 146 BC, thus becoming an integral part of Rome’s vast empire.

This promises to be a wonderful journey with all the spectacular sights you will see, the interesting history you will learn, and the engaging culture you will experience. Come join them for a fun, funny, and fantastic trip through Rome, Greece, and history. We’ll leave the driving to Andrew!

Tom Henz

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Jun 29, 2021
• ISBN: 9781662403002

Book preview

Chapter 1

Destination: Rome

Livy was up at three o’clock this morning and discovering jet lag in a big way. He was jumping and bouncing around with his new stuffed duck—off the bed, on the bed, off the bed, on the bed, squeaking merrily away! With a sense of urgency and threat of death, we got him to stop. It got quiet again. Not long after, I woke up again because I heard him gnawing on something (a mother senses these things). At first, I thought he might have been gnawing on one of the thirty rawhide sticks I brought along, but nooooooo, it was the cane insert on the bench at the foot of the bed. I calmed him down again and covered the bench with a flat sheet we brought with us. Luckily, he didn’t damage it badly. I was able to do a suitable repair with my tweezers when the sun finally came up. I guess we deserved a night of chaos for what we had just put him through. It started two days ago.

Livy is a six-month-old English springer spaniel. He is named after Titus Livius, ancient Rome’s greatest historian (died AD 17), and he has been with us for just two and a half months. His coat is liver and white, so the choice of name seemed to fit. And he just had two crazy days that must have been incredibly stressful. This trip over to Rome began two days ago at the American Airlines check-in counter in Charlotte. We were booked on a direct flight from Charlotte to Rome. No stopovers for Livy’s sake! And we were concerned about temperatures too. Pets can’t be boarded if the high and low temperatures forecast for the day are greater than eighty-five degrees or less than twenty degrees at the departure and arrival airports. So monthly temperature averages for our departure and return cities determined when we would travel. An October departure and January return was the plan.

Check-in should have taken about an hour, but for this trip, it took two since the new agent we drew had not checked in a dog before. After that, AA turned us over to TSA for the inspection of Livy’s crate and its attachments. That done, I threw a handful of Pup-Peroni snacks inside, and he scrambled right in. There in the presence of TSA, we locked him in and set all four corners of his crate door with zip ties so he could not escape and, more importantly, no one at the airport could capriciously let him out. After all was reinspected, a baggage handler put him on a cart and wheeled him away. That was about two hours before our scheduled departure. Of course, we immediately started to worry about him. Even though we knew he was a very healthy and robust pup, we just could not gauge how frightened he would be or if anyone handling him along the way might goof up. But since AA had been great to Reggie, Livy’s predecessor, on three previous trips, we had faith. Fortunately, AA had us approved for the TSA Pre-check service, so we went through security swiftly without the hassle of having to partially disrobe, unpack all electronic devices, unpack our liquids, or take off our shoes. We were swept for explosive residue, but that was okay by us.

By the way, Reggie was our beloved seven-year-old springer spaniel who went everywhere with us, including Europe. We made three overseas trips together with him, and he was a trooper. Because of how easy it was to travel with Reggie, we knew we could do the same with Livy. Besides, there are times when the stresses of international travel get a little intense and nothing comforts that anxiety like a dog. Reggie always took everything in stride even though we could be at the edge of the abyss and looking over.

Traveling with a dog requires jumping through some crazy hoops for the airlines, the USDA/APHIS (Animal and Plant Health Inspection Services), and both US and EU customs. But with our expert vets at Durham Veterinary Clinic, they can be managed successfully. Since we live in the heart of Georgia’s dairy country our vet’s practice specializes in large farm animals. Not many of his patients fly to Europe so after that first trip, and after managing APHIS and us, Dr. Durham suggested we might go to Rock City next time instead! After four trips now, his professional crew got us ready to go in a flash.

Having our dog in a foreign city breaks the ice in so many ways. First of all, people think we’re local. Strangers even approach us for directions! But more importantly, people everywhere love dogs (at least lots of people love dogs). Complete strangers would not hesitate to smile at Reggie and reach out to pet him. Some people asked us if they could take photos of him, especially if they had kids. And Reggie knew instinctively who was a dog person and who was not. One by one, he would engage everyone, and his reaction each time was easy to read by his tail. It wagged so fast it was a blur. When little kids came near, I would slip them a dog treat to give to Reggie to break the ice. Reggie, the Ham, would sit then flop down onto his belly for them, the only tricks he knew, and delight them all. Sometimes it seemed like Reggie might have been the first dog they’d ever gotten close to. But he was such a gentleman.

Sadly he died suddenly in June. After pledging to not get another dog, we waited four days and found Livy. Livy was only eight weeks old when we brought him home from an excellent springer breeder in Calhoun, Georgia. And so there we were, taking a five-and-a-half-month-old puppy to Europe. We must be crazy!

Once through security, we slid into the best dinner option near the gate, the Bistro, and sat down for a nice relaxing (fat chance) lunch. Surprisingly, the barmaid recognized us. We had been seated at a table next to her the night before in a friendly BBQ joint/biker bar/sports bar where we had dinner in Charlotte. The late Sunday football game had been on all the TVs, so while we were eating, we were all tuned in together. And as all NFL fans do, we commiserated on the gloomy prospects for our favorite teams. She also remembered we had a dog with us at dinner, and when we explained where we were all headed that day, she wished us all a wonderful trip.

We had driven to Charlotte in a rental car the day before our flight to spend a relaxing night at a hotel convenient to the airport. That afforded us a nice, quiet morning with plenty of time to return the car and check in at a smaller international airport that’s not rather overwhelming like Atlanta’s Hartsfield-Jackson can be, especially with our special baggage.

The lead-up to this trip was probably the most stressful we have ever experienced. I guess we listen to the news too much. We are all just constantly bombarded with stories about the outrageous behavior of members of the flying public or the constant drumbeat hysteria of terrorist groups seeking to bring down airliners. Plus, stories about the lack of consumer/tourist services in Greece swirled around us. It is impossible to tune this stuff out completely. There is always that iota of doubt that pops up more than just once in a while…

Then there is the home front. Leaving home for a three-month stretch is always a little daunting. We worry about our house and cars while we are away, but fortunately, we have a couple of dear friends in the neighborhood who periodically check the homestead. They give us tremendous peace of mind when they send us an e-note saying all is okay.

Additionally, we were turned onto online banking and paperless billing by one of our closest friends, banker extraordinaire, and my first editor as well. Thanks, Tom! This not only gives us secure and up-to-the-minute snapshots of banking and credit card activity, but it tidies up the accumulation of regular mail. The changeover to e-everything dragged us bruised and battered into the twenty-first century AD. In retrospect, it was a very good change to make.

Fortune favored our flight. The gate agent offered us special assistance, so Andrew and I got to be the very first to board. That has never happened! We took our seats, 13A and B (maybe that wasn’t auspicious) and settled in. The plane filled up to the gills after that. Before we pushed back, Andrew caught the copilot and asked him about our special baggage. He said he had just checked and the dog was good. We finally left about thirty-five minutes late, but after that, everything was great. The flight was smooth. Nothing goofy happened, and no passengers seemed hinky.

Nine hours later, we landed at Leonardo da Vinci International Airport in Rome under a clear blue sky. We hustled into the terminal and down to baggage claim to see how Livy fared, and we were not just a little anxious. Fortunately, he was delivered out right away. A very kind handler helped me load him onto a luggage cart. Livy was alert but not excited at all. He wasn’t even standing up. He just laid there, looking at me calmly, and that kind of worried me. I really expected something rather explosive. Talking to him constantly, I quickly caught up to Andrew, who had corralled our checked bags, and together we wheeled ourselves outside to spring Livy out of his crate.

After fishing my Swiss Army knife out of my checked bag, it took several minutes to cut the ties and open the crate. The pup was still very calm. When the door opened, we were very careful, lest he tried to bolt before we could collar and leash him. But he was good. When he was ready, I walked him away to find a place to drain his dragon, but since we were curbside at arrivals, there was no suitable place anywhere. The calmness that he had exhibited in his crate changed to serious anxiety in the general chaos surrounding us—lots of people, lots of cars, and way too much pavement. I was very concerned about him and remained extremely cautious. He made the most of it. Meanwhile, Andrew called the Peugeot agency to set the car pickup wheels in motion. Soon after, our agent arrived, and we loaded ourselves into his van for the ride over to the leasing office. Thankfully, there was a quiet spot with a patch of weeds, and Livy pulled me right to it. He must have preferred the privacy. He quickly came around; all systems were go. I said a little prayer of thanks for our happy and healthy pup.

Back at the car, while Andrew was getting the tutorial, I struck up a conversation with a very nice couple from Montreal who were just returning a car. They kindly gave us an unopened bottle of water they weren’t going to use. I offered some to Livy first. They had been in Sicily and southern Italy for a couple of weeks and told me they were quite unsettled in some cities and especially Naples. They said nobody spoke English or French and they were afraid to park their car anywhere in public parking areas. That sounded like the Naples we knew! They also warned us about driving in Rome and that we just shouldn’t do it. Too late. We thanked them and wished them safe travels. Then we drove into Rome. We got to our hotel like we had driven there just yesterday. The GPS helped, but today it was just an easy drive. Traffic seemed rather light and manageable. It had to be a fluke!

Incidentally, the drive from Fiumicino (the local name for Leonardo Da Vinci International Airport in Fiumicino, Italy) to our hotel was only nineteen miles, but it has taken us up to an hour. And there was nothing like an hour’s drive into Rome during the week to get the blood pumping. There were all kinds of stimuli, like Roman drivers, little cars, big trucks, scooters, cyclists, limited traffic zones, one-way streets, traffic roundabouts, and triple parking. There were no traffic rules. None. And the phrase rending of hair and gnashing of teeth fit the general mood in the car. So did Mr. Hyde (if you get my drift).

We checked into the hotel, the Villa San Pio, and everyone there was welcoming as always. It felt like we were home again! Andrew was able to park the car in their secure gated lot, and we were helped up to our room on the fourth floor. We were booked into the room next to the one we had many times before. The old one was Reggie’s. The new room was just next door and had a little bit more space. It also had a huge balcony the size of a bedroom that was adjacent to the balcony of the old room. When we went outside to sit for a minute, we looked over to the old balcony, and I had to catch my breath. In my mind and in my heart, Reggie was over there, pushing his tennis balls, duck, and purple dinosaur around and wagging away.

This was our sixth stay at this same hotel, and it had become our home away from home; it was mostly because of the wonderful people who worked there, but it was also perfect for the three of us. The main building was more than a hundred years old and was originally a private villa. Because it was on the Aventino, it was also in a terrific location. From there, we could walk everywhere in the city.

Legend and history tell us that a great temple to Diana, Olympian and goddess of the hunt, occupied an adjacent site during the sixth century BC. Sadly, the site where the temple stood was now just a big parking lot. But I believe Diana still comes to this place of sanctuary. Her grace and élan is evident in the charm that surrounds the hotel in this elegant residential neighborhood. The Aventine Hill was also the hood wherein wealthy families, starting with Remus, built villas and homes for centuries. The attributes they saw here, beginning in ancient times, still exist in the tree-lined streets, beautiful courtyard gardens, proximity to major attractions, and commanding views over the city.

Neptune, Olympian, god of the sea, and earth shaker, lingered there as well. (We will use his Greek name, Poseidon over in Greece.) Last year at this time, we were relaxing quietly one evening. Andrew and Reggie had stretched out on the bed, and I was soaking in the tub. Suddenly, the building started swaying back and forth, and the water in the tub sloshed big time from side to side. I shouted to Andrew, We are having an earthquake! with not a little anxiety in my voice. It lasted for about forty seconds. Car alarms were going off in the streets, and for a few moments after it stopped, we each held our breath. Then we both got fully dressed, as I intended to remain all night long, and I stationed my purse next to me and put a leash on Reg in order for us to evacuate fast if another tremor came along. In reality, given this old building, we were probably screwed. The rest of the night, however, was quiet, and by morning, things were back to normal. Mostly. We had a longer tremor again a few days later. It triggered lots of inspections and closures around the city, but all seemed well—at least in the city. Sadly, small hill towns near the quake’s epicenter north and east of Rome saw real death and terrible destruction.

It was just about noon when we checked in and unloaded the car. We spent the next hour unpacking and getting organized for our stay. We cataloged dog food, Milk-Bone Minis, Pup-Peroni Treats, a new stuffed duck and rabbit, Nerf balls, rawhide chews, leashes, collars, a harness, and a zillion plastic bags and miscellaneous articles for canine behavior modification. We probably didn’t need to haul any of it over with us, but we did. We also prepared the room for Livy. We packed two flat sheets. One went on the bed over the hotel’s comforter to protect it from any Livy events—hair, slobber, cookie crumbs, and more. We pulled it off when we left every morning so that the room looked fine out of respect for the housekeeping staff. The other sheet was to cover anything else that we might see as at risk from dog damage. Every evening, when we returned to the hotel, the first thing we did was put the sheet back on the clean comforter before Livy leaped onto the bed. We didn’t ever want to wear out our welcome!

Incidentally, packing for these sabbaticals is always a challenge and one I live for. I love to make lists, pack, unpack, pack, and pack some more. On our first trip together in 1980, Andrew and I took a premarital honeymoon to Cozumel. He packed a suitcase to check with a bathing suit, tennis racket, and six cartons of Winstons. I packed more and even went out and bought my first Louis Vuitton suitcase for the occasion. Then I couldn’t afford new clothes, but I decided to travel looking fab instead. And to this day, I joke that the first thing I decide when we start outlining a trip is what luggage-handbag combination will be best. It’s All About the Bag was my working title for this opus.

Andrew and I have identical and seemingly indestructible Victorinox black ballistic nylon carry-on suitcases that have gone on every trip since 2000. We check them, but in today’s world of travel, it is good to be prepared. If we have to make a quick change of plans, we can go carry-on. The bags are old, beat-up, and look horrible. No one would have any reason to be attracted to them enough to want to pull them off the baggage carousel on a whim of avarice. Also, in today’s world of travel frame of mind, it’s good to be a little incognito. Andrew’s is easy to spot in the sea of ubiquitous black suitcases at baggage claim. He has an old sweat sock tied to the handle. Can’t miss it. It is a good deterrent! And certainly wheels are a good thing. Lastly, if the proverbial catastrophe befalls us, we won’t hesitate to walk away from them.

After we were completely settled in, we got cleaned up, dressed in fresh duds, and headed out on foot. We have learned that the best way to beat jet lag is to hit the ground running. We forced ourselves to adjust to the new time zone. We took our usual route down to the Colosseum. Our first stop was a small park a block from the hotel where Livy could take in the scents of the dogs in the neighborhood. It was quiet and away from traffic, so he took his time and sauntered along from spot to spot. He seemed just fine after the trauma of the last twenty-four hours. We walked down the Aventino, one of the historic Seven Hills, and felt the familiarity of Rome and our usual walking attitude start to reset our inner compasses. Countless others had done this before us as they too headed down the hill toward the historic center of this Eternal City.

From the second millennium BC, settlements dotted these hills clustered together along a huge bend in the Tiber River. Those Neolithic communities gathered at this location because it was a place where the Tiber could be crossed as it flowed from the Apennine Mountains to the sea twenty miles downstream. The highest of these hills did not rise more than a few hundred feet above sea level, but each one of them was high enough to afford defensible positions from raiders coming from inland or the coast. As Rome grew, evolving into a greater and cohesive community, inhabitants and incoming tribes built greater defenses. They also began protecting the navigable waterway of the Tiber as trading became significant. In the early fourth century BC, they erected the first wall that enclosed the original Seven Historic Hills—Palatine, Capitoline, Caelian, Esquiline, Quirinal, Viminal, and Aventine. That singularly impressive wall was a monument to engineering, and a harbinger of Rome’s burgeoning power. It was twenty-four feet high, twelve feet thick, and surrounded over a thousand acres. Parts of it are still visible today.

Our trek would be a comfortable amble down to the heart of the ancient city, the Colosseum and the Forum, the lowland into which the hills converged, about thirty minutes away. We passed places to note for our stay again: gas station, take-out pizzeria, a nice grocery store with a housewares annex for dog food and drug store stuff, and a couple of casual restaurants. We patronized each of these places during our earlier stays in Rome as they were very close to our hotel. So for staples like bottled water, snacks, kilo bars of Perugina Dark Chocolate Fondente (the dark chocolate melted for true hot chocolate), deli fixes, and toiletries, it was a convenient stop on the way back to the hotel after a day out. And it was close enough for Andrew to manage a heavy six-pack of liter-size water bottles on the home stretch.

Farther along, we passed a testament to modern civilization, the Italian Committee for UNICEF. It occupied a huge campus on the far side of the road. On our side was one of the earliest testaments to the Roman world, the Circus Maximus. A circus is a huge oval shaped chariot-racing arena and not to be confused with amphitheaters or theaters. This circus was so big it took several minutes to walk past it just at one end. We stopped at the railings to take it in, and there it was, a monument that exuded what it meant to be Roman. It was the largest sports and entertainment venue of all time.

The Circus Maximus was about six hundred meters long and over one hundred meters wide, and the track was broad enough to hold races for multiple four-horse chariots, quadrigae. Tradition says that the founder of Rome and lover of horses, Romulus, chose the area as a place for religious festivals and horse racing was made part of the celebration. It was improved greatly during the period of the republic and then extravagantly rebuilt for huge racing spectacles, wild animal hunts, and even triumphs during the empire. It is estimated that by then, it seated about 250,000 spectators. The last races took place in the early AD 500s.

I was reminded of the commercials on the radio while I was growing up: Sunday at Beautiful US 30 Drag Strip, Drag Racing Capital of Chicagoland! I wonder how the races were promoted over the centuries. The ruins today are still magnificent. It is possible to wander around and through the buildings that completed the partially restored ellipse at one end. We could see them very clearly as we walked past. In addition to racing facilities, stables, temples, and other features, it also had shops and commercial alcoves. In one of these cubicles, flammable objects caught fire one night in AD 64, sparking the enormous fire that destroyed a huge part of the ancient city when it was said that Nero fiddled away in one of his nearby palaces. Let’s say he plucked his cithara since the fiddle was not invented until well into the sixteenth century.

Incidentally, tradition dates Rome’s founding by Romulus to 753 BC (April 21 according to some historians). Romulus murdered his twin brother, Remus, to become the first ruler of Rome. Historically, however, all is quite vague for this age of monarchs that culminated in a dynasty of Etruscan kings.

The Republic began around 507 BC after the Etruscan monarchy was overthrown.

The Empire began in 31 BC after Octavian defeated Antony and Cleopatra at Actium.

The western empire collapsed in AD 475 with Romulus Augustus. What a sublime name coincidence!

Back to our sightseeing… It was easy to make out the center of the circus track, the spina, where various obelisks and monuments stood. For example, the obelisk that today stands in the Piazza del Popolo came from the Circus Maximus. It was originally an obelisk dedicated to Ramses II (died 1213 BC) erected in Heliopolis, Egypt, and brought to Rome in 10 BC. Another obelisk, now in Piazza di San Giovanni Laterano, stood in the Circus Maximus as well. It came from Karnak near Thebes, Egypt, in the fourth century AD and was originally dedicated to Thutmose III (died 1425 BC). It was also the tallest one to be brought to Rome. It stands about 32 meters tall and originally weighed about 455 tons when it was imported (125 tons or 4 meters were lopped off when it was last moved across town). The Romans even built special ships to haul them one at a time. The remains of Caligula’s ship that brought the obelisk that stood in the Vatican Circus spina, later moved to the center of St. Peter’s Square, can still be seen near Ostia Harbor where Claudius had it filled with cement then sunk to create an artificial island to support a lighthouse.

These obelisks are singularly stunning works of art and are icons of pharaonic dynasties of Egypt. Each one of them has an incredible provenance and a great story to tell. There are more standing in Rome now than in Egypt! Of those that can be seen around Rome, there are eight—five of which were brought from Egypt in the time of the early emperors as a way of glorifying the conquest of Egypt. The Egyptians had quarries from which these behemoths originated. They were carved in place then transported to ceremonial locations.

We visited one of the red granite quarries near Aswan, Egypt, on a trip to Egypt in the early 1990s. We were able to walk out onto an obelisk that had cracked before it was lifted out of the living rock. Three sides had been carved out with hand tools, and three sides were finished although the hieroglyphs had not been added. It was probably fifteen feet wide at the base and tapered to maybe ten feet at the top. It was a little over forty five yards long. There was a giant fissure running along the length toward the base, and we joked about the moment that crack opened up. We pitied the poor guy who landed that last hammer blow on a chisel and caused the cataclysm. Oops!

By now we were really back in the groove. It could have been yesterday and not a year ago that we walked this route. Everything was exactly as it should be except for our canine companion. Livy was coming along just fine, but I believed Reggie’s spirit was with us and walked just ahead, pulling against his collar every step of the way.

We followed the Via di San Gregorio all the way down to the Arch of Constantine along those fabulous old palatial ruins on the Palatino and passing under the old Claudian aqueduct that brought copious amounts of water to the palaces on the hill. Then we ran the gauntlet, bobbing and weaving through the crowds, where all the tourist buses loaded and unloaded their minions. What a pity for the poor tour group whose members all wore bright-green derbies and followed a guide with a bunch of feathers on a stick.

Alas, we came to the Colosseum. We let the power of this building wash over us, and our pace slowed. We had been right here in its shadow many times over the years, and each time the building seemed to have more mojo than before. This building demands our respect. It reminds us that we are simply mortal. And it looked spectacular since it just had a beautiful and painstaking facelift thanks to Tod’s, one of Italy’s finest designers of shoes, handbags, and leather goods. What a cool collaboration. Italian fashion houses have stepped up to fund extensive conservation and renovation projects for many of Italy’s iconic landmarks. Tod’s targeted the Colosseum; Fendi, the Trevi Fountain; and Renzo Rosso (i.e., Diesel), the Rialto Bridge in Venice—to name a few.

We turned to go around the other side of the Colosseum and headed down a small road that had a nice selection of restaurants with outdoor seating. It was a true residential neighborhood and seemed very local even though the busiest tourist area in the city, if not the world, was just a hundred meters behind us. A block over was a workout place opened by Madonna. We chuckled when we remembered our experience there.

Andrew discovered it a couple of years ago while looking for a gym. Our hotel receptionist told him about it and said it was a super physical fitness facility. Since we were going to be in town for a month on that trip, we thought it might be a good place for Andrew to arrange to work out. Well, as it happened, the charge for a single session was 45 euros (times a $1.28 exchange rate). Needless to say, he took a pass. Ever since then, when we were nearby, we wondered how Madonna was doing with her Rome venture. We loved the name. It was called Hard Candy, and although we did not get beyond the reception area and the 45 euros, we were sure it was a beautiful facility. Anyhow, we did wish Madonna well. We were more taken with all the eateries anyhow.

We stopped at a restaurant we had been to on previous trips, called Pasquilino’s. After Livy was seated under our table out on the sidewalk, we opened the menus and got down to business. We had not eaten since the dismal breakfast box on the flight over, so we were famished but also a tad queasy (spent nerves). We were ready to decompress. Not to take any chances, I ordered just a Margherita pizza, and Andrew got a bowl of pasta with veggies. As we ate, we were asked by a young couple sitting one table away, about Livy. Actually, they were giggling at him because he was snatching flies out of the air. Andrew said he was a Venus flytrap, and they both laughed out loud. We struck up an enjoyable conversation about where we were all from and some fun experiences we’d all had in Rome. They were both very nice and engaging; plus, their English was excellent. They were from Holland. We mentioned our interest in ancient history and classics. The woman said she studied medieval languages, non-Latin origins, at the Leiden University. Wow! What a discipline! I looked up Leiden U. It was started in 1575 by William, Prince of Orange. Not exactly a Big 10 or SEC kind of place! We also talked about pizza and gelato before wishing them farewell.

It wasn’t dark yet, so we made a beeline over to the tea store we had frequented, hoping to find it still open. The walk took us down the Via dei Fori Imperiali, the most impressive stretch of road in Rome. It’s a four-lane boulevard that runs from the Colosseum to the Capitoline Hill, which is about five blocks. Along the way, on the left are the Roman Forum and Forum of Julius Caesar. The Roman Forum begins opposite the Colosseum with the massive ruins of the Temple of Venus and Rome, built by Hadrian. He was a prolific architect. It was supposedly the largest temple in Rome and was begun in AD 120. Although later damaged by fire, it was restored by the emperor Maxentius early in the fourth century AD. Next is the massive trio of barrel vaults, the ruins of the Basilica Maxentius, which was renamed as the Basilica Constantine. Maxentius was emperor from AD 306 to 312. He was eventually conquered by Constantine, but more on that later. The next stretch is the entirety of the magnificent political, commercial, and social center of ancient Rome—or just a big pile of rubble—depending on your point of view.

Over on the other side of the road were the consecutive Temple of Peace, the Fora of Nerva, Augustus, Trajan and Trajan’s Market. These guys were the headliners of the early empire. Nerva was a sleeper, though. He was a very pivotal player in imperial politics even though he was a senior citizen, about sixty-five, when he was elected emperor by the Senate in AD 96. He was a well-respected nobleman with a reputation for common sense and gravitas. After all, he had survived as an official under Nero (AD 54–68), then through the year of the four emperors, and through the Flavian Dynasty. A very tumultuous time. He was elected at the end of the Flavian Dynasty just after the emperor Domitian, the last Flavian, was assassinated (AD 96). Any assassination of an emperor could send the world into chaos and civil war, so it was a testament to the senate and to Nerva’s strength of character, as well as his common sense, to keep things cool and calm.

He only ruled for about two years, from 96 to 98. Alas, he could not assert his authority over the Roman Army. His Praetorian Guard, the emperor’s personal detachment of soldiers and protection detail, forced him to adopt an heir, and here was where he was a genius. He named Trajan as his heir. Then Trajan adopted Hadrian as his heir and successor. Hadrian adopted Antonius Pius, who adopted Marcus Aurelius. These four consecutive emperors ended up being four of the best in nearly five hundred years of imperial history. So thank you, Nerva!

Augustus’s Forum came next, and it must have been something to see with its classical temple and enclosed grounds. Augustus dedicated his temple to Mars Ultor, which means Mars the Avenger. Mars, of course, was the god of war, and as Avenger, he had attitude! The entire complex was built to commemorate Augustus’s success in vanquishing those who participated in the conspiracy responsible for the assassination of the great-uncle who adopted him, the one and only Julius Caesar. Augustus was the first emperor of Rome, but he would not have been so had it not been for Julius. It was a very turbulent time between Julius’s death and Augustus’s consolidation of power, which put him in position to be the man, thus ending the 480-year era of the Roman Republic. Romans abhorred the word rex, so Augustus shrewdly called himself princeps, meaning leader among equals (which meant emperor for all practical purposes). Wink! Wink! He also shrewdly kept the institution of the Senate and the constitutional offices of the republic intact to maintain order and keep the administrative machinery humming along. He just pulled all the big levers going forward.

Augustus and the Senate deified (recognized as a god) Julius Caesar and instituted the Cult of the Divine Caesar, meaning Julius would be worshipped as if he had joined the traditional Olympian pantheon of deities, for which individual temples were scattered all over the city and the ancient Roman world. Augustus was also deified upon his death by the Senate. He, too, was worshipped as a god, and a whole cult arose around this new phenomenon of worshiping a man who had become divine in addition to worshipping traditional divinities. The implications of this new practice were huge.

This cult of the emperor became one mechanism for implementing control over the vast empire. The army was surely another. Different cultures and regions of the empire were required to worship the divine emperor first and before all else. Roman administrative offices and priesthoods were put in place in cities around the empire to bring this new institutional religion to the masses. Simultaneously, it brought Roman administration, coinage, culture, and laws to the far-flung reaches of the empire as well. The plan was good at first, and there were many exceptional men who stepped into this enormous position of responsibility and performed superbly. But along the way to the Fall of the Roman Empire, a bunch of crazy megalomaniacs got into the mix too. Caligula, a mere thirty years later, began flirting with divinity after suffering a bad fever during his reign. He would assume the specter of different Olympians and scare the heck out of those around him. He likely went insane. He imposed a truly evil reign of terror on Rome while anticipating his divinity for all eternity. Rumor had it he planned to name his horse, Incitatus, to the position of consul. His assassins put an end to the nonsense.

Not long after, Nero simply dispensed with the formalities of deification at death and just decided to be worshipped as a god among mortals. He, too, brought a reign of terror upon his subjects. These two nuts were so evil that after they died, they were dishonored by a senatorial decree of damnatio memoriae. Their memories, monuments, works, and deeds were condemned for all time. The two men were simply cancelled! Vespasian, not long after Nero, was a bit more realistic. According to the ancient biographer Suetonius, he was to have lamented on his deathbed, Oh woe, I am turning into a god.

Back to our walk along the Imperial Fora… Trajan (gotta love him) not only built a forum with temples and civic buildings, but he also built Rome’s first shopping mall. He was an extraordinary designer/builder as well. His concept for a multilevel commercial complex was genius. And mostly restored, it still stands today. Walking through its easy-to-imagine rows of shops, boutiques, and enotecas side by side, I bet there were restrooms, a food court, and a cineplex too!

Returning to AD 2017, after the fora, we slipped into the narrow warren of streets and alleys where upper-story apartment balconies leaned over the narrow lanes, and local businesses opened onto the street. This is where one can get shoes fixed or find practical household items, hardware shops, maybe dry cleaners, or other various workshops. And yes, there was laundry hanging over the balconies above the street. We zigzagged past a couple of tiny churches and small piazzas with fountains, staying away from traffic for Livy’s sake, and finally came up to Il Giardino del Tè (the Tea Garden). Yes, it was there, and it was open. The proprietress was in, and she recognized us right away. She also noticed immediately that the dog was different. We chatted for a few minutes. Her English was excellent, and then I picked up a package of her sublime green tea with jasmine imported from China. We also ordered two kilos to pick up before we flew home in January. That should get me through the next week and the next year!

By now the sun had dropped low enough that the world was in shadow and lights had come on. The streets were getting crowded with Romans coming out after dinner for a walk and a chance to socialize with their neighbors in the piazzas and public areas. It was a beautiful time of day, and it just felt right to be out and about. The walk back to the hotel was a good stretch, but it was a great excuse to stop at our fave gelato store just across from the Circus Maximus. The proprietress there knew us the minute we walked in too. We happily hugged and kissed and spent a moment asking about each other’s families and how the year had gone since we last enjoyed the spectacular frozen delights she had to offer. Then we got down to the serious business of deciding which flavor to try. Andrew took a cone filled with peanut butter and chocolate gelato. I strayed from my usual stracciatella flavor, vanilla with frozen chocolate pieces mixed in, and took a flyer on two scoops of the truffle flavor—basic chocolate with crushed Ferrero Rocher Hazelnut Chocolates mixed in.

The way home took us along the entire length of the Circus Maximus. We walked in the low arena area and were finally able to let Livy have his moment. The arena area of the circus is mostly grass, although the raised spina is packed dirt and gravel. From end to end, it’s probably the length of seven football fields. Livy had a ball. He was so happy to sniff and cut loose a little without the scary noises of the city so near. He also flopped on to a patch of clover and thought he might stay there forever. Happy dog! He had been through so much and now had been thrust into a totally foreign environment. At home, the predominant noises he hears are birds and small boats. He walks and plays on grass most of the time. Here in Rome, everything was different, harsh, and probably overwhelming. We stopped and consoled him frequently and generally talked to him all the while we were walking. We searched for quiet places to give him a breather, but admittedly, this was a drastic change. We were very sensitive to the messages he was sending, and now he was tired. Fortunately, the hotel was nearby. In a few minutes, we were back safe and sound. What a day! We clocked 9.3 miles according to my watch, so we were ready for a hot bath/shower. Minutes later, it was lights out. May Neptune rest as well!

It was shortly thereafter when Livy’s jet lag kicked in.

Kristin on the broken obelisk at an ancient quarry in Aswan, Egypt.

Andrew and Livy approaching the Colosseum.

The ellipse end of the Circus Maximus.

Our favorite gelato store.

Chapter 2

Hotel Villa San Pio

Just after daybreak, Andrew got up and opened the windows and French doors to the balcony so the fresh air could drift in while we started to come around. He also turned on the electric water kettle, so a hot cup of coffee was quite instant. We showered and primped to carpe the diem then headed down to breakfast.

We walked through the lovely antique Empire style lobby to say good morning to the day crew and were greeted cheerfully by staff members we hadn’t seen since last winter. We caught up briefly with Rita, the brains behind the front desk and problem-solver extraordinaire. We also saw Rami, another friend who didn’t speak English (but since I don’t speak Italian, it’s fine). We spoke in smiles, hugs, and other happy gestures and engaged over concepts like sunshine, lovely days, breakfast, family, and extra bath gel. She was a chambermaid, and she had on all earlier stays made us very welcomed and pampered. I believe she was from Morocco, and when I talked with her in this place far from home, I felt very much a citizen of the world. (I don’t mean I am anything special, but how cool is it to be momentarily truly international?) I was looking forward to conversing with her every day and getting a morning dose of good cheer.

The breakfast was in the secluded tree-lined garden with a glass gazebo and outside tables. And the October weather was bright and warm. The same guys were running the show. Sergio and James had cappuccinos for Andrew before he had a chance to sit down. They hustled every morning to deliver a wonderful breakfast buffet for the guests. Blood orange juice, fresh fruit, and Nutella-stuffed cornetti were the high points. Although everyone was busy as the hotel was full, we still had moments here and there to catch up with our friends, who always made every guest’s experience a happy one. The mix was quite international. We were probably the only Americans and certainly the only guests sporting a dog. We could pick up a bit of French here, maybe a touch of German there, and not surprisingly anymore, some Russian and Chinese.

It’s funny that we all do the same breakfast routine no matter where we are from. Double espressos get the world’s blood pumping.

A chic-looking mother and two teenage girls sat at the next table. They were speaking French, and they had an unmistakable mother-teenagers thing going on. The way-too-casually-attired girls looked like they just rolled out of bed and out to the table. They lazily tossed their luxurious and long superconditioned manes around and slurped their cappuccinos with two hands wrapped around their cups while leaning on their elbows on the table. Mom’s manners were elegant, and she was not sending off a proud and happy vibe with the girls’ posture and attitude. Boy, had we seen that dynamic at work before—from both sides of the table!

There was a stately old man across from us with red corduroy pants, pastel suspenders, and pink buttoned-down shirt, smoking a pipe. He gruffly spoke to the waitstaff and watched us from high above the grand nose on his face. An imposing African woman sat nearby looking very dignified. She was immaculately dressed in a beautifully tailored suit and was talking on her phone. I heard her say in a distinctive singsong voice that she was in Rome, making the world great for Kenya. I remembered the UN’s enormous ten-story office campus just down the hill from the hotel.