two delightful excursions, part I

Yesterday I walked to the Appia Antica, one of the original highways that the Romans used to reach the port (in or near Naples, methinks). It's a few miles from my place, past the Circus Maximus (really, just a big field) and down a tree-lined avenue. Once outside the city walls, you walk or bike along an increasingly picturesque way.

Two of Rome's most frequented catacombs are located there, and I went to the one that was open on Sundays, San Callisto. It was serendipitous indeed, because I had the most wonderful, mystical tour guide in the world. I didn't learn her name, but she took her job seriously in the best sense possible.

The tour guide, a tiny woman with a poncho (it's cold underground) and a thin wooden staff with a purple fluttery topper, seemed to have the spirit of San Callisto. (Assuming San Callisto was a kindly and inspirational gentleman and not one of those curmudgeonly saints). She had a lovely accent that I couldn't place, but could have been Spanish, Italian, or maybe even Sicilian, and spoke with a light in her eyes. She drew attention to the fact that we were all pilgrims come to a holy place, and in an English-speaking group, there are likely to be people from a lot of different faiths, but it was marvelous because we all came to be there in peace. She also noted that the Christian catacombs, being as old as they are (150-320 AD) were just that - no Catholic/Protestant divisions yet. Another expected perk was that she had knowledge of the way people learn random facts, which is to say, not very well; which is to say, if you want them to remember said facts, you'd better repeat them over and over. But because of her accent and her divine tone of voice, it didn't bother me at all. Feel free to quiz me on the random facts, when I return stateside.

The tour began in a small chapel and continued into the earth - about 30 feet underground (no pictures were allowed, unfortunately). Contrary to popular belief, the Christians didn't hide in the Catacombs but rather used them as a burial site, which even the Romans with all their many and varied pagan gods respected (E!Tonight, or People magazine, anyone?). Tufa, or lava rock, is soft until exposed to the air, which is convenient if you are going to be doing a lot of digging and then plan on walking around in the area you dug. Which they did, believe me! I'm awfully glad I had a guide who was considerate and did not leave us all down there to fend for ourselves. Here is the entry into the catacombs - now imagine a flight of stairs in there going 30 feet down followed by miles upon miles of tunnels!



After the catacombs, continued down the Appia Antica and found a bike rental place, which is a dandy way to see the couple of miles farthest out. If you don't mind the original Roman stones, about the size of watermelons and sometimes quite as round. If you need to jostle a loose tooth out of your noggin', this is the place to do it. Luckily the "modern" (as in, maybe 200 years old?) cobblestones were the most common paving stones used, and I didn't fall over on my bike once, though I thought about it a lot. Here is a picture of me not falling over (see the similarities between myself and our almost-naked friend, who we must have seen 8 times on our journey):





After the ancient road, I walked along a not-at-all-ancient-road (i.e., with lots of cars) to return to the city wall. I took a bus for a couple of the ickiest miles and got to see this lovely Roman soldier show on the Circus Maximus. Notice the guy with black and white gladiator sandals - he must represent a very special type of gladiator, indeed.