Rome via Brooklyn

Word count: 560

Time to read: 3-4 minutes

I often think about the layout of places we go to; everything is designed to serve some purpose, often meant to be unnoticed. I was recently thinking about the layout of Rome’s train station — or, really, train stations in general. Everything is so easy to follow and paths have been made to optimize your process. The airports I’ve been to have been the same way, and I’m grateful for that. Like, if you miss your flight, it isn’t as easy as just waiting for the next train to come. The same, logical setup I’ve seen in airports and train stations cannot be said about the zoo I went to yesterday, though. Everything was so hard to find, the signs were sparse and sometimes felt inaccurate, and the entire experience was weakened, holistically.

My positive experiences in Rome’s train stations made me think about museums and the stories they intend on telling. It really is up to the curator, but you can sell a narrative just based on a sequence of orders. Humans love information in micro doses, and enough tidbits regarding a person or event can lead to conclusions being made. See, the brain is great at assuming and filling in the blanks with enough “intuition,” even if it means that historical accuracy is not a consideration.

Unlike a store, with its intention pretty much always being to sell you items, museums and their intentions are ever-changing. The popular belief at the time changes regarding artists and thinkers, so the way their work is presented must, too.

I’m thinking of a quote from the Claridge reading, where figures on a sculpt are “dressed their best,” even if the “precise identities… have evoked much scholarly concern.” Even if we don’t unequivocally know who the sculpture features, we do know that the artist’s intention was to make them presentable and perceived as important to some degree.

After our amazing museum visit, Ramon and I decided to walk home. The heat won, and we just couldn’t be out any longer to visit some of the professor’s recommendations. We grabbed Mexican food at Pico’s, and I must admit, the new items I got for lunch were way better than the vegetarian bowl I had from them the night prior.

I took a nap, which has been seemingly a theme on this trip (I won’t fight it!), and then I woke up, excited to ride horses! As we stepped out to meet up with Lucy and Paola, I remember thinking, “This weather is so perfect for riding horses.” It was cool, crisp, and not scalding like earlier in the day. Then, thud. I felt and saw a small white “rock” fall from the sky. I assumed there might have been construction from above, until more and more fell down. HAIL?!

For a solid minute or two, we stood in the hail turned downpour, planning what to do. Eventually, we made it to Lucy and Paola and ordered an Uber. A minute into the Uber, we get the notification that our ride was cancelled. Thankfully our Uber driver was incredibly understanding. I believe truly there was some providence involved. I wasn’t sad or bummed, and I was sort of grateful that the sign we shouldn’t go was so glaring and unmistakable.

We chilled for the rest of the night and then went back out for gelato. There is always time for gelato!