Roma Therapy (DB Exclusive, 9.3.24)
Roma Therapy (DB Exclusive, 9.3.24)
Itinerant Italian Itinerary
I don’t do travel blogs, and I am not a vacation Instagrammist. But I do believe that experiencing other cultures and exploring human history up close can play a significant role in shaping how we think about ourselves and our place in the world.
Our family trip to Rome this summer was the first such expedition since I started Deeply Boring. I am grateful for the opportunity to share what I learned with you in this DB Exclusive which consolidates the three piece arc on our trip.
I. Italia Arriviamo! (7.31.24)
Turning On Roaming.
We are bound for Rome in a few weeks. I had originally planned to release a series of essays with my latest reflections on AI during this time, but I’m going to bump that series to September. For August, I plan to journal our experiences in Italy. Here are three reasons I’m doing so, three things I’m looking forward to, and three things I’m concerned about.
Why?
1. Journaling summer vacations is a family semi-tradition. Typically, the farther we fly, the stronger the impetus – and this will be our first trip outside the US since before COVID. It might be fun to capture reflections in real time – so as not to overly tame the rawness of it.
2. I’ve never been to Rome. It’s my inaugural trip and I don’t know what to expect. Since a fresh experience could awaken something, it would be a shame not to capture it.
3. The temptation is always to show the glittery side of life. But that is one-dimensional and false. Will I find or experience something not just exciting, but also real and true? If so, I would like to share some of it with you.
Anticipation
1. Zach’s favorite food is pasta, and Ben has become a gastronome. I hope it will be a memorable food trip for them. If it is for them, it will be for me.
2. We haven’t encountered a new culture together as a family since Japan (2018). The kids are much different now. I’m curious what new dynamics we will discover – the ways we will learn and grow.
3. With so many amazing things to see, you would think a flea market doesn’t hold a candle. But I love a good rummage, so Porta Portese makes the itinerary. Something vintage (1978-85) Italian Star Wars would be a plus.
Trepidation
1. Zach doesn’t do air travel well now that he’s older. I hope he has a good flight.
2. I put a lot of effort into planning out the daily itineraries and attraction tickets. I hear horror stories of cancelled tickets, the summer heat, and petty crime. I hope none of it comes my way – but I’ll try to roll with the punches.
3. I don’t really want the trip to end, even though it hasn’t even begun. A week after we return, we drop Zach off at college. Kleenex, please.
On a more sober note, I do hope you are getting some time off this summer.
Whether it's a staycation or a bucket list trip matters less than the mentality with which you approach it. We have taken long trips only to be miserable, and short trips we'll never forget. The most important destination is the one in your head - show up the right way and love the people you are with, and it will all be good.
- J
II. Layers (8.21.24)
Friends. Romans. Countrymen.
The citizens of all great cities speak of home with pride, but what they emphasize can vary. I enjoy learning through conversations with locals what about their city keeps them enthralled.
Take Daniela and Samanta, locals who we met near the Spanish Steps in Rome. With attention on the Olympics, they noted how Paris is a wonderful city with amazing museums, but the whole of Rome is a museum, and you only need to walk the streets to see great works of art. Only a touch of competitive sensibility! Or consider Fabrizio, whose reserved demeanor masked assured pride in the quality of red coral he showed us from Sardinia. And Silvia, our guide at the Colosseum, who spoke with admiration of the Arch of Constantine, and how all the other great triumph arches of the world imitate the original in Rome. Through these conversations, I experienced how deeply a love of beauty, craft, and history unites Romans.
We also met Sara, whose eyes sparkled when we asked about the remains of the Baths of Trajan. She referred to them when showing us the Domus Aurea - Nero;s palace, exorbitant beyond imagination but then stripped bare and lost to time, buried for over a millennium to make way for public works after his condemnation by the Senate. Rome is literally a city of layers, with the current streets standing dozens of feet over earlier iterations of the city. She appreciated our attention to the dramatic stories and vivid personalities that shaped Rome, not just politically and historically, but physically, playing out over time periods those of us living in America struggle to grasp.
My most memorable conversation was with Rasan, with whom I discovered a special connection. After a very effective sales pitch touting the virtues of aged balsamic vinegar at Campo de Fiori, I inquired as to his country of origin. Bangladesh, he said. I shared I was born in India, but grew up in Singapore. It turns out his whole immediate family lives in Singapore. He came to Rome to earn money, which he saves and sends back to help them. We share having family in that part of the world, have a shared experience as immigrants making our way in a new place, and share an understanding of the hustle involved in lifting our families into better circumstances. It is a story that transcends Rome, London, Paris, New York, and other great cities, and in that sense, also unites them.
Rome is so different from any other city I have visited, and yet, in its own way, so similar. Every city has its sights, sounds and wonders. Each also has stories of shame, cruelty and indifference. They form the backdrop of our human struggle, but also of our resilience. Story by story, layer by layer, year by year, cities have brought together people of all kinds to advance human flourishing, albeit with uneven results. To do better, perhaps we can start by understanding each other better. May your city reveals its layers and stories to you in some small measure, as Rome did for me.
J
III. Best Laid Plans (8.28.24)
Gang aft a-gley.
There is so much to see in Rome that a light day can feel like a missed opportunity. One such day started at 3 am on the narrow street outside our hotel, getting to know the people across the hall because a hotel guest “forgot” there is no smoking. Sleeping in scrambled our plans to see the Roman Forum before the heat set in. And I missed that the wonderful Museo della Forma Urbis – featuring an ancient map of Rome carved into stone – is closed on Mondays. Worse, we only figured that out after making the trek there. Yes, there was a Plan B, but with no taxi stand nearby we had to hoof it in Rome’s oppressive 100-degree heat.
But there were small mercies. Shade on the left side of the street. A lemonade stand. Our route took us past the Circus Maximus – the largest chariot race arena ever built (above). It was worth the pause for a photo, no matter how hot. Plan B, a second-hand store, lent welcome shelter, and tchotchkes: a linen dress, a Pan Am model plane, a first-generation Commodore C64, a tiny diecast Matra sports car (below).
Roman holiday rule #1 is don’t fall for the tourist trap restaurants. But Diet Coke and burgers at the tourist trap next door was a great way to cool down and recharge. Still taxi-less, I remembered Rome has Uber, which supplied both a ride and an unforgettable music track. “Dance with Me” by Kevin de Vries provided a frivolous counterpoint to the day, its relentless night club beat and sultry vocals so hilariously out of place that we bopped to it all the way. The welcome refuge of the apartment’s AC beckoned; an afternoon out of the sun, teasing each other while we competed in our favorite iPhone games, enjoying some Italian soda.
We’ve had some great vacation days in the past – seeing sights we will never forget. There are also times in the past when a day like this would have frustrated me. Annoyed at the inconsiderate smoker, dismayed to have missed one of the “must-see” checklist attractions, irritated by the heat, spending good money in Rome with bupkis to boast about but bric-a-brac and burgers. But yet, it was a good day. The family was forgiving of my oversight, was grateful to have a memorable souvenir, and good-natured about the food. We were thankful for Uber, a new song in our vacation soundtrack, and some laughs.
Not every day turns out as you expect. Whether you are on vacation, at work, or having just an ordinary day, your plans don’t always go as you might hope. It’s too much to say all lemons make lemonade – some days truly are crappy. But the day ends eventually, and a new one begins. And if you can find your way to a place of gratitude for small things, other good things might pile on – and you might discover that the unexpectedness of it all is what makes it all the more memorable. I hope you have had some such days – and if so, I wish you many, many more.
Arrivederci, Roma.
J