Sun Yat-sen Mausoleum

This is the first in hopefully a number of posts where I put up travel itineraries which have worked well for me. See notes below on my choice of sights and alternatives.

Where: Nanjing is a historic city located in eastern China, about 300km from Shanghai as the crow flies, or roughly 1.5 hours by bullet train. Today, Nanjing is the capital of Jiangsu province, but for centuries it was the capital of various regimes throughout Chinese history, and the capital of a unified China in the 14th century and again in the early 20th century. Its long history has given it many poetic names, but its modern name means, simply, “the southern capital”, mirroring the name of Beijing, “the northern capital”. Culturally and linguistically, Nanjing is a thorough mixture of northern and southern China, reflecting successive influxes of northern rulers and its location in the heartland of Wu culture. Visitors to Nanjing are usually attracted by its great monuments, including the tomb of Sun  Yat-sen, the “father of modern China”, but it is also famous for its food, boulevardes, lakes and mountains, and the legends that still echo from laneways to ruined palaces.

The Gate of Fraternity

Day 1:

• Train to Nanjing: I took the 8:00 am bullet train from Shanghai station to Nanjing station (about 1.5 hours travelling time). If you are travelling by train, note carefully the departure and arrival stations. If you are departing from relatively central Shanghai, I recommend choosing a train that goes from Shanghai station to Nanjing station, rather than from Shanghai Hongqiao to Nanjing South. Also be aware that Nanjing South station moved in 2011 from just south of the city centre to much further away, and now takes about 30-45 minutes longer to get to from central Nanjing.
  

  Shuttle "trains" and golf carts

• Purple Mountain (紫金山） / Zhongshan Mountain （钟山） area: the most impressive monuments in Nanjing are located in these hills just east of the city centre.  The three key attractions here are the Mausoleum of Sun Yat-sen, the tomb of the first Emperor of the Ming Dynast, and the Linggu Temple area, which was formerly the Nationalist war cemetary for the 1911 revolution and conflicts with Japan leading up to World War II. Each of these are arranged up the slope of a mountain, and there are golf carts / electric shuttle cars to convey tourists within the larger park area.
• From the railway station, take the Metro Line 1 to Xinjiekou station (新街口), then change to Line 2 to Muxuyuan station (苜蓿园). Leave the station from Exit 1, and follow the signposted boardwalk which runs parallel to the main road to a parking area next to the elevated expressway.
• Buy tickets for the park shuttles. Current prices are RMB 5 per ride, but I recommend the five-ride ticket for RMB 15 since you will most likely take at least three rides while in the park.
  

  Avenue of plane trees in Purple Mountain

• Find the park shuttle to the Mausoleum of Sun Yat-sen (中山陵). The tomb complex is free to visit. From the shuttle stop, follow the crowds to reach Fraternity Square, in front of the Gate of Fraternity. Directly across the square from that gate is an interesting bronze cauldron, which marks the southern tip of the tomb complex. Follow the stone steps up the hill to visit the tomb itself. The burial chamber (influenced by that of Napoleon) itself is currently closed to visitors due to the influx in visitors since the tomb complex stopped charging admission. (About 1 hour)
• Coming back to Fraternity Square, cross the square slightly to the left (while facing away from the tomb) and you will see a sign for the Music Bowl (音乐台). Here you can buy a ticket that covers admission to the other major sights in the Purple Mountain area for RMB 90. The Music Bowl itself is an interesting example of Republican architecture and design.
• Coming back to Fraternity Square, go right as you face the tomb to board the shuttle for Linggu Temple (灵谷寺). Take a walk  up the hill to see:
• the Hall of Infinite Strength (无量殿/无梁殿), a rare, brick-vaulted traditional Chinese building which was converted into a shrine to the war dead of the National Revolutionary Army;
• Linggu pagoda, an early 20th century construction decorated with works of calligraphy by artists who happened to have been leaders of the 1911 revolution, and which offers great views over the area and Nanjing generally;
• several interesting tombs, shrines and memorials of various styles, such as the tomb of Tan Yankai, a 20th century construction with classical Chinese elements; and
• Linggu Temple, a modern recreation of the temple from which this ensemble derives its name; and
• In the right season, sweet osmanthus blossoms.
• (About 2 hours in total)
  

  The front of the mound at the Ming Xiaoling Mausoleum

• Coming back out to the shuttle stop, look for the shuttle that goes to the Ming Xiaoling Tomb (明孝陵), the 15th century tomb of the first Emperor of the Ming Dynasty. The shuttle takes you close to the tomb complex itself, which is an interesting mixture of original elements and later reconstructions of buildings destroyed by war. After you reach the burial mound, come back out, and upon exiting the gate of the tomb complex there is a path that leads left. (Less than 1 hour)
• Optional: if you are doing well for time at this point, follow that path to the left, which takes you into the Zixia Lake (紫霞湖) area. A 20 minute walk up the mountain is rewarded with pretty views of Zixia Lake, a reservoir high up the mountain built at the time of the construction of the Mausoleum of Sun Yat-sen. It is a favourite swimming, fishing and picnicking spot for locals.  Walking around the lake takes you to some medieval ruins and also Zhengqi Pavilion (正气亭), which reputedly marks the spot that Chiang Kai-shek picked out for his own tomb. On the way up or down the hill you will also see the ruins of the tomb of the first crown prince of the Ming Dynasty, who predeceased his father and so was buried close to his tomb, and a gallery of Chinese calligraphy carvings. (About 1.5 hours)
• Coming back down to the front of the Xiaoling tomb, a road leads to the right as you stand before the bridges before the tomb (facing away from the tomb). Follow this road as it turns left and then left again to see the stone statues of civil and military officials who guard the “spirit way” of the Emperor’s tomb, and, after another turn to the left, paired statues of animal guardians both mythical and real. The camels and elephants are especially impressive. At the end of the “spirit way”, follow the path until you see a tall brick enclosure on your right. This is the official tombstone for the mausoleum, a giant granite block carried by a colossal tortoise-like creature. From here, take the pedestiran bridge across the main road to exit the mausoleum complex from its official entrance, the Great Golden Gate.
• At this point you will find yourself in a complex of shops, restaurants, and galleries capitalising on the tourist trade. If Republican history interests you, turn left here, exit the mall complex via the path marked by ornate columns on the left to return to the main road. Walk along the road to the right and you will come across Meiling Palace (美龄宫), formerly an official residence for the President of the Republic of China but in reality a villa used mostly by Generallissimo and Madame Chiang Kai-shek. The villa is ticketed separately.
• To get to your hotel or to the city, there are shuttle stops on the main road near Meiling Palace. The one across the road takes you back to Muxuyuan subway station but services are infrequent. You can walk back to Muxuyuan station by following the main road, it takes about 15-20 minutes.
• Gate of China (Zhonghua Men) / the Confucian Temple night markets / Hunan Road snack street
• The Gate of China (中华门) was the southern gate of Nanjing, and is well known for its formidable construction and elaborate defences. Unlike ordinary city walls which are defended by one barbican, the Gate of China has three, and an invader who chooses (unwisely) to attach the city here would have to breach four gates and face traps and arrows at every turn. From here, you have the option of walking or cycling along the city wall for quite a long way in either direction. The gate complex itself houses exhibitions as well as a temple to a treasure bowl that legend holds was buried under this gate. Note that the subway stop named “Gate of China” is some distance from the gate itself, the most convenient transport option is by bus. The “Tourism route 2″ or “Y2″ (游2) (see general tips below about the ”tourism route” buses) takes you to the gate.
• From the Gate of China, take the Y2 (游2) bus out (the bus stop is on the side of the gate complex, on your right if you are standing on the gate facing away from the moat and into the city) to the Confucian Temple (夫子庙). This is not just a temple – indeed the temple itself is quite small and not entirely authentic. In times past, this area housed one of the main imperial academies in China, and with the large concentration of students the area became a centre for restaurants, taverns, shops of all description, and brothels. The brothels are gone now but the other establishments have been re-established. Take a walk (and maybe a boat trip on the river) and absorb the bustling atmosphere.
• On the south side of the river are some historical neighbourhoods, including the newly constructed Ancient Residences of Wang and Xie (王谢古居). This is a museum which is intended to reflect the era when Nanjing served as the capital of several dynasties ruling over southern China. The museum is located in Wuyi Xiang (乌衣巷), or “Black Suit Alley”, named after a unit of elite troops of the Wu kingdom in the Three Kingdoms period which was stationed here. Their distinctive uniform – as you may have guessed – was black.
• Being so saturated with tourists, it is difficult to find good food near the Confucian Temple. From here, take a bus (e.g. route 31) or the subway (follow the signs) to get to Hunan Road. The closest subway stop is Xuanwu Men (玄武门). There are a number of “snack streets” off Hunan Road, which are packed with unique restaurants and food stalls. The most accessible is Lion Bridge, or Shizi Qiao (狮子桥). This street is perpendicular to Hunan Road and is marked by a large ceremonial gate on Hunan Road.
• Some recommendations for “local” flavour include:
• Huiwei Duck Blood Vermicelli (回味鸭血粉丝)  (past the McDonalds). Their signature dish, duck blood vermicelli souop, features mung bean vermicelli in a soup along with a variety of duck products, including blocks of duck blood (like tofu but with duck flavour), gizzards, cured liver and other delicacies. Great tasting (despite the organic sounding ingredient list). Goes well with a basket of their xiaolongbao (tiny steamed buns with soup). Order at the counter, pick up food from a window and take it to your chosen table.
• A Simple Diet  (粗茶淡饭) (before the McDonalds) serves a variety of down-to-earth but delicious regional cuisine.  Choose a table, catch a waitress to get your order form, then go to the counters to order. The menu is presented as plastic food so you can get an approximate idea of what you get even without speaking the language. I recommend the chicken soup with stirred noodles. The pastries (xiaolongbao and other steamed dishes) are also nice.
• To leave from Lion Bridge, walk back out to Hunan Road. Walking to the right takes you to Xuanwumen station. Alternatively, walk left until you reach Zhongshan Road, where you will find many bus lines.
• If you still have the energy, take the subway or a bus to Xinjiekou (新街口), the key modern shopping area in Nanjing, where you will find department stores and international brands.

Day 2:

Presidential Palace

• Presidential Palace: The Presidential Palace in Nanjing was the centre of political power during the periods of Kuomintang (Nationalist) rule in the Republic of China. It is a mixture of a classical Chinese yamen (as the office of the Viceroy of the Two Jiangs), Republican-era architecture and Communist era desecration.
• Take the subway line 2 to Daxinggong station and walk north across the open plaza, alternatively take the Y2 bus.
• There is plenty to see at the Presidential Palace and no single route. It roughly divides into three sections organised around the central, western and eastern axes. The most significant sights are along the central axis. This includes the restored presidential office and executive council conference rooms, all in the Zichao building at the northern end of the compound.
• The western axis features several gardens as well as the presidential office used by Sun Yat-sen as the first provisional president of the Republic.
• The eastern axis has a range of service buildings from the Viceregal era, as well as some early 20th century offices used by the executive government during the Republican era, restored to the way they were in the 1940s.
  

  The steps seen in many official photographs of the Republican era

• Nearby is the Meiyuan Estate (梅园新村), some preserved villas from the Republican era which are today preserved mainly because the Communist party delegation to the capital was located here during the negotiations between the Communists and Nationalists in 1946-7.
• A new attraction which at the time of writing is yet to open despite having been completed more than 3 years ago is the Nanjing Zizhao Fu (南京织造府), or the Nanjing Weaving Works, intended to be a museum on the site of the former imperial weaving and embroidery works. The architecture is interesting as a combination of traditional elements juxtaposed onto contemporary forms. The building currently sits empty due to disagreements between the private sector developers, the city government and scholars as to its proper contents.
• Also in this area of the town are several universities such as Nanjing University (the former Nanking University) and Southeast University (the National Central University during the Republican era), which feature some interesting architecture from the Republican era. Also interesting is Yihe Road (颐和路), reputedly the best collection of Republican architecture in Nanjing.
  

  Jiming Temple viewed from the wall

• Jiming Temple (鸡鸣寺), or the Temple of the Crowing Rooster, is a historical temple built along the slopes of a hill to the north of central Nanjing. You can reach it by walking by buses including the Y2.
• While the temple itself is fairly small and mostly the result of modern construction, its most interesting features is original: a covered walkway at the back of the temple takes you from the hill on which the temple is built onto the city wall. This section of city wall gives some great views over the city, and also over Xuanwu Laketo the north.
  

  Xuanwu Lake from the wall

• From here, it is not too far to go to one of the eateries of Hunan Road for a late lunch and perhaps shopping for some souvenirs.
• Duck is a traditional specialty of Nanjing and often bought as souvenirs.  One particularly well known shop is the Halal Han Fu Xing (韩复兴) Cured Duck Shop, which makes great salt ducks and roast ducks, as well as the eponymous cured ducks and a variety of duck products and other types of roasted poultry. One unique product, sold from a window facing the street, is duck-oil pancakes. These come in both sweet and savoury varieties, and are delicious if eaten hot (or reheated). Han Fu Xing have branches on Hunan Road (No. 110 Hunan Road) and in several other places.
• When returning by train, the best way to get to the station is via subway Line 1, either to Nanjing Railway Station or Nanjing South Railway Station. The latter takes longer to get to, and should not be confused with the old Nanjing South Railway Station, now re-named Gate of China (or Zhonghuamen) Station.

Other notes:

1.  Nanjing is best seen on a 3-4 day trip, this is a compressed itinerary suitable for a weekend trip out of Shanghai.
2. I speak passable Mandarin; if language is a problem for you, you may want to ask someone to prepare printed tags for you and rely more on taxis and metros and less on buses, for example.
3. I don’t like wasting my travel time on political propaganda. Two major Nanjing “attractions” which fall into this category and therefore are excluded here are the Yuhuatai (“Platform of the Rain of Flowers”) Martyr’s Memorial and the Nanking Massacre Memorial.
4. I prefer eating local specialties at restaurants where taste comes first. While hygiene is important to me, decor is not, and I usually avoid foods which are from the wrong part of the world. For example, even though I make no mention of them above, Nanjing, like any other city in China, has a good selection of spicy restaurants if your tastes are inclined that way.

Happy travelling!

– from behind the Great Firewall of China

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XJBnHMpHGRY

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/picturegalleries/worldnews/8555247/Tiananmen-Square-massacre.html

It was a grey morning with a light sprinkle of rain in Paris. G and I had been wandering the laneways near the Madeleine and the Palais Garnier looking for coffee, when we chanced upon a little store. We were intrigued by the window displays, an eclectic mixture of writing instruments, stamps and cards, all stylishly designed. We went in. It being fairly early in the morning and close to Christmas, we seemed to be the only visitors, although there were quite a few staff tending various departments. The store was modern and minimalist in decor, and was organised into several somewhat disparate departments. There was a philatelic department, equipped with mounted magnifying glasses for examining stamps; an area for designing (and printing) your own envelope and parcel wrappers; as well as a large range of pens, cards, writing paper, and equipment and material for creating your own stationery.

I especially liked the philatelic counter – where I bought my favourite piece of Paris souvenir. Le Carré d’Encre literally means “Ink Square”. The store brought to mind what a post office shop could be like if it was given a complete redesign by someone with both a sense of style and a love of writing, in all its forms. In fact, that seems to be how the store came to be – it is a project of Phil@Poste, the stamps and stamp-collecting section of the French postal authority, La Poste. They  took all the fun bits of a post shop (stamps, stationery, cards, even creative envelopes and parcel wrapping) and gave it the glamour treatment – but left out all the boring bits like the queues, teller-style counters, and computer-printed text labels.

Even surrounded by all the grand magasins of Avenue Haussman, this shop definitely stood out as my favourite.

Who: Le Carré d’Encre
Where: 13bis, rue de Mathurins, 75009 Paris (nearest Metro: Havre-Caumartin)
What: Stylishly designed stationery and stamp store
Website: http://www.lecarredencre.fr

The TV licence system, however, is retarded. It is not unique to Britain – some other European countries have also retained it. The British, however, have managed to run the system in such a way as to make it, frankly, ridiculous.

First, a brief explanation of the TV licence itself for those of us unfamiliar with such a backward system. Every year, each household which uses a television to receive TV broadcasts (whether directly or recorded) is required to pay a licence fee, currently £145.50 per year for a colour TV. The fee makes up the majority of the BBC’s funding, with the rest coming from commercial arrangements and topped up by government.

The licence fee system is fundamentally unfair. It falls disproportionately on the young, because it is imposed by household, meaning that a single person household is taxed (it is legally a tax) at the same amount as a large family. It falls disproportionately on working people, because it is a set fee, not “pay per view”. This means that a household is required to pay the same fee if they watch even 5 minutes of television when they get home from work, as someone who has the television available to them at all times. It falls disproportionately on the poor, because it discounts the number of television sets in a household. Someone with just one TV between a family of six pays the same licence fee as a household with a TV in every room. Finally, of course, the tax is a set amount, not means tested and not income-progressive, and so it falls disproportionately on those with a lower income. £145.50 is not a small sum – it’s about $250-300 (depending on exchange rates), quite a bit to save up in austerity Britain.

By now you can probably imagine what kind of person benefits most from such a system – someone called Lord Faroutford who has bred like a rabbit, lives in a palatial mansion, has a stack of servants, and who doesn’t need a day job. In other words, the tax is exactly the kind of class oppression you’d expect from the kind of government loaded in favour of the rich and the landed that gave us rotten boroughs or corn laws. Not what you’d expect from a country that brands itself a liberal democracy. Even if we presuppose the necessity of maintaining a public broadcaster not funded by advertising, it is far fairer to fund said broadcaster out of consolidated government revenue funded primarily by a progressive tax system with a primarily individual-based tax unit.

What makes the British system especially ridiculous, though, is the tactics of quasi-legal intimidation it employs to make people pay up. The TV licence system is backed by a joke of an enforcement system. At some point, the government must have realised that, unlike electricity, you can’t actually cut someone off from receiving television broadcasts out of the air. It can criminalise unlicensed TV viewing, but the only way to obtain evidence of this in most cases would mean invading personal privacy. Not a problem at all, of course, for Lord Faroutford, for whom the local constable would have to knock cap-in-hand at his gate for permission to walk up his mile-long driveway and then ask to inspect his television. But even for your average Joe (or whatever they call it in Britain. The man on the Clapham omnibus?), it really isn’t much of a problem if you keep your wits about you and don’t open your door to someone who says they are here about your TV licence. So enforcement generally means sending threatening letters about the heinous crime you are committing by stealing TV signals out of the air, and how they will rip you apart if you gave them a chance. If the system was vicious before, the toothless intimidation makes it absurd.

To add insult to injury, the other day I clicked on a link hosted at http://www.bbc.com/, and it told me – and I will quote it verbatim because it is almost Kafkaesque:-

We’re sorry but this site is not accessible from the UK as it is part of our international service and is not funded by the licence fee. It is run commercially by BBC Worldwide, a wholly-owned subsidiary of the BBC, the profits made from it go back to BBC programme-makers to help fund great new BBC programmes. You can find out more about BBC Worldwide and its digital activities at www.bbcworldwide.com

So let me get this straight. Because I have to pay an exorbitant and unfair tax that would not exist in any civilised democracy - because of this tax, I am blocked from accessing content provided for free by the very broadcaster I am helping to fund, content that is free to access by anyone who doesn’t have to pay this tax?

It boggles the mind.

Name:

Bécasse is well known in Sydney for its unique combination of culinary innovation with traditional tastes. After several tries and eventually booking a month in advance, G and I visited it for the first time – and it did not disappoint. The restaurant is located at the Druitt Street end of Clarence Street, a quiet location that is mere minutes from the hustle and bustle of Town Hall. At dinner time, the muted external decor makes the restaurant almost hard to spot amongst the half-lit low-rise office buildings and shuttered cafes – especially when one’s eye is drawn to the spectacular white stair case of the award-winning Alliance Française building across the street.

The understated ambience is continued in-doors – while the gentle light of the street lamp filters through the Romanesque arch windows, frosted glass makes it clear that the interior is a world away from the common street outside. Behind a heavy glass door and dark drapery, the restaurant is divided into three areas: a sunken area close to the kitchen, from which diners can watch dishes being plated at a counter; the entry-level area with a series of relatively small tables, generously spaced from each other; and an upstairs area for larger groups. The colour scheme tends towards the warmer end, with dark drapery accentuated here and there with mirrors and simple abstract art. The candle at the table (not, Cafe Sydney should note, a flickering light bulb) sits in a glass bowl of water and sprig of flower. G and I were seated in the entry-level section.

The menu is pricey, and I got the impression that most diners were there for an occasion of some kind. The menu offers the options of a la carte or degustation. The two of us chose the (carnivorous) degustation (as opposed to the vegetarian option) at $130 per person. Optional matching wines with every course is an additional $60 per person.

After some canapes and amuse bouche, here were the dishes we sampled:

Salad of marinated heirloom vegetables with sugar snap mousseline, black olive and lemon balm: beautifully arranged plate of simple vegetables, with subtle sauces that well-complement the natural flavours
Confit miso blue-eye and smoked scallop with sauteed cuttlefish, cauliflower and buckwheat: lightly sauteed seafood, almost sashimi-like; best part is the sauce. Toasted buckwheat adds a nice surprise
Forgotten vegetables slow cooked in smoking cedar with aged pork jowl, scratchings and jus gras: like a rustic pork dish, but with the pork reduced to a hint and the vegetables enlarged to become the main part. Presented with a slice of lit cedar wood.
Roast Palmers Island mulloway with king prawns, soubise puree and smoked crustacea emulsion: familiar taste of fish and prawn given new meaning by the sauce
Caramelised suckling pig and braised pork tail with roast parsnip and compressed apple: a deconstructed variation on a roast pork dish, with a bite of roast pork and a bite of braised pork
Daube of Blackmore’s full-blood wagyu shin with potato baked in ash, Jerusalem artichoke and jus Bordelaise: the ash-wrapped potato was an interesting taste; the fattiness of the wagyu was well-used
Orange and cardamon pannacotta with blood orange, beetroot and vanilla: a thin panna cotta covered with the intersecting textures and flavours of the toppings. Beautifully presented and a refreshing transition into the dessert courses
Banana creme brulee with salted peanut brittle and milk coffee sorbet: a deconstructivist interpretation of the creme brulee. Banana in creme brulee is a little rich and quite sweet, but combines well with the fairly salty peanut brittle
Zokoko 70% Bolivia chocolate and caramel ‘cadeau’ with organic vanilla and milk sorbet: the cadeau is a perfectly formed dome. The sorbet is surprisingly nice – and tastes very different to vanilla ice cream

We finished with tea and petit fours (included in the meal).

Conclusion: Quality food, at once adventurous yet familiar, perfectly managed production

Food: 9/10
Service: 9/10
Ambience: 8/10
Value for money: 7/10
Overall: 9/10

“‘[Xu Qinxian] asked if there was an order from … Zhao Ziyang … The answer was no and ”Xu then refused to march.”” 

http://www.smh.com.au/world/how-top-generals-refused-to-march-on-tiananmen-square-20100603-x7f0.html

For more information, see here and register online now.

The next day – our last day in Rome and my last day on the continent – we woke to the newspaper headline: “Shootout at Chinese-Italian Trattoria: dispute over inferior wine and salty spaghetti.” Not wishing to repeat our mistakes, this time we decided to go far, far away from any tourist destinations. After a day of literally running from sight to sight, we ended up at the base of the Spanish Steps (Zegna was on 50% off). We searched in vain for a restaurant with any semblance of normal pricing, and concluded that our rule needed to be modified to “to avoid expensive restaurants, make sure you’re at least 25 blocks from the nearest Zegna store.”

That was when we spotted the entrance to the Spagna metro station. “By my projections, if we go into the metro station and come out the other side, we should be at the other end of the Spanish steps – i.e. at the top of the hill and far enough away from Zegna and Armani,” I said. We were both too tired at that point to think of an alternative plan, so in we went to the station. At the end of the concourse was a set of escalators. Score! I thought. We rode the escalator up, but instead of an exit at the top of the hill as I expected, we saw another set of escalators. Well, the hill must be taller than we thought. We took that. At the end, another set of escalators. And another. And another. And another. Five sets of escalators, twenty minutes, and a bizarre tunnel full of miniature shop windows later, we finally made our exit, and found ourselves on the Champs Elysee.

No kidding – the plane trees, the road side seating, the Third Empire buildings – all the restaurant names were in French. We had the strange feeling of having crossed half the continent in 20 minutes. We found a street sign eventually – this was the Via Veneto – indeed the “Champs Elysee of Rome”. The escalators had taken us halfway across Rome, yet we were even deeper into luxury territory.

Tired, hungry, cursing the lack of consideration of the builders of Spagna station to link one luxury shopping district with another, we admitted defeat and trudged back towards our hotel near the station. Gioanna, the local dragon head who doubled as the kindly proprietress of our hotel, had been right – eat right here around the station. Any problem, she said, call Gioanna and I sort them out.

Well, that’s it folks. Tomorrow I fly home via London. Despite all the fun, I’m kind of looking forward to my own bed.

Until next time from home,
Tommy

When we formulated that rule, we didn’t take Rome into consideration. Rome, the eternal city, is littered with the debris of 2,500 years. You can hardly walk down a street in Rome without bumping into a classical ruin here or a medieval palace there. Finding a non-tourist-trap (or, on the west bank of the Tiber, “pilgrim”-trap) restaurant is hard enough. Finding one that’s two blocks from a tourist attraction proved to be a major endeavour requiring careful triangulation on our maps.
We did manage it, though, the first night we were there. Two blocks from Piazza Navona (location of the Fountain of Four Rivers), we spotted a little alleyway, which could only be reached from our side of the main road through a pedestrian tunnel which was, in fact, a bookshop (“Underground bookshop! Admission Free!” said the sign at the door in English). It claimed to be a trattoria, a traditional Italian eatery, and the prices displayed at the door was very reasonable. The fare seemed Italian – we were glad – with no sign of a fillet mignon or a wienschnitzel in sight.

We pushed open the lace-curtained door, and were warmly greeted by a Chinese lady and (I presume) her Chinese daughter, in English. We seemed to be the only customers in the shop. I asked for a menu, exchanged a look with Brian. I said, loudly, “hmm, this doesn’t seem to have that dish I wanted…”, then in a whisper, “okay, go or stay?” “Your call. I don’t give a fuck. They look Italian enough,” said Brian. We decided that we’ll brave the Asianness. Afterall, didn’t Enoch’s Chinese friend back in Sydney run an Italian restaurant that appeared to serve Italian food?

We sat down, and the girl – she couldn’t have been older than 13 – took our orders. “A bottle of your finest vino bianco, kind signorina,” I said, or words to that effect. I ordered a mixed seafood for my entree and a spaghetti with vingoli (“What’s vingoli?” “I think it’s a kind of shellfish.” “Cool.” “Or maybe it’s squirrel. Not sure.”), and Brian had tripe and another pasta.
We weren’t ready for the ambush at all. I’d been in Italy for a week, and was pretty confident I’d come to grips with the place. Then wham – it hit us like a frying pan in the face. Yes, that’s right. The wine was not that great – a tad astringent. “This wine – it’s probably worse than about 20% of Australian white wines!” I cried in horror. “It’s pretty shit,” Brian agreed, “But you can’t complain. I said it was your call!”

Everything went downhill from there. My cold seafood mix looked like it came straight from the fish shop counter. And the spaghetti with vingoli – well, it was stir fried pippies with a noodle base. “Does this look a bit Chinese to you?” I asked Brian. He looked down and looked up. “No.” “No? Look at this! It’s got bloody shallots! It’s stir fried pippies with –” “No,” he interrupted me, “because I can see into the kitchen from where I’m sitting.” “So?” I asked. “So I can see the chef. And he’s Indian.” My response was probably best summed up as -_-”.

At this point, though, we were disturbed in our enjoyment of our fine, traditional Italian meals. A distinctly Italian couple walked in – a man and a woman, both wearing a lot of black leather. They spoke rather sternly to the Chinese lady, who was soon joined by the proprietor – who we could now see was, in fact, Italian. The young girl – their daughter, I presume, started talking at length to the new arrivals. The conversation became rather intense.

“Mafia,” whispered Brian. I nodded. They certainly looked the part. Emboldened by my experience of watching Who Wants to be a Millionaire in Italian the previous night, I proceeded to translate their conversation…
“Fat Tony saysa to tell you he been hearing you been serving bad wine.”
“No! Curses to the lying son of a boar who spreads such lies.”
“Are you calling Fat Tony a liar?”
“No! I… ”
“I been also hearing where you been serving seafood salad straight from the fish shop.”
“Well, you know how it is, Indian chefs, seafood salad is not their traditional fare…”
“And worst of all, your protection money is late by three days…”
“Our business has been bad! We have no customers except these two stingy Asian boys who aren’t even going to tip! You know what they’re like!”

The intense discussion seeemed to reach an impasse, when the woman in black strode into the kitchen – probably to quiz the Indian chef on his Italianness – while the man in black sat down at the cash register, and started to count money –
We took one look at that, and decided to make a dash for it, leaving our money on the table. The owner barely noticed us – he was staring at the mafioso thumbing through his cash register.

Until the next day,

Tommy