Once the travel bug has bitten you, there is no turning back. But, unfortunately, real life doesn’t allow me to travel full-time. That’s why I’ve come up with a special list of places in Rome that make me feel as if I’m stepping into another country. I’ve already told you about the beautiful Mosque of Rome and the charming Orthodox Church, which are among my favourite religious places in town, so now let’s dig a bit deeper into Rome’s multicultural soul.
When I saw Bordalo II’s stunning racoon in Belem, my first thought was ‘where did he find all those pieces of trash?’
Little did I know that soon I was going to regret that wonder, while I was getting to know how difficult it can be to get some pieces of garbage to hang on a wall.
Because yes, this time, I was Bordalo II’s trash-buddy. And it was crazy. ☺
You guys should know by now that when me and my foodie friend Elena meet up again, an ‘Eating Out’ blogpost is coming.
So, after my foodie posts from Ljubljana (Eating out in Ljubljana vol 1 – vol 2) and a couple of reviews dating back to her previous visit to Rome (Pastificio San Lorenzo – Mazzo Centocelle), here are the restaurants that we tried together on her latest visit.
The greatest feature of these three ghost towns is that they all overlook a beautiful valley, which made me wonder why someone would ever have left that panoramic position. This was before reaching them by driving along the steepest and most uneven hill roads ever, which -eventually- made everything perfectly clear. ;-)
‘Listen’, ‘Pss’, ‘Grr’. So many voices are coming out from the funnels hung on the ceiling that I can’t hear mine. Suddenly, everything is quiet for a few seconds, but even the silence –at this point- gets me muddled. Then, again, more voices are calling to me: ‘Look’, ‘Ehi’, ‘Pss’, ‘Woof’. Calls, bleary sounds, background noises that were scattered through the days of those people who used to live inside this very building, the psychiatric hospital of Santa Maria della Pietà in Rome.
‘I was pretty tense about this mural’ he said ‘You know, portraying someone like Pasolini… and, moreover, in a location like this one’ he added, pointing to the ruins of the Mira Lanza factory in the beautiful, post-industrial yard of Teatro India.
‘Well, you nailed it!’ I replied in my over-enthusiastic voice.
‘I guess so… I mean, now I’m satisfied with the result, but you should’ve seen me when I was approaching the job: I was so nervous!’