I don’t know where to start writing about Italy.  I’ll probably end up doing a few entries over the next couple of weeks; I probably won’t do them in any sort of order.  It was my second trip to the country.  I was spending pounds and not New Zealand dollars, which was why on one morning in Rome, I ended up at the Ara Pacis Augustae.

This time round, €10 didn’t seem too much to pay for an audio-guide and entry to the glass museum near the banks of the Tiber River (€10? That’s only three and a half single scoop gelati for example).  It didn’t seem too much to get away from the crowds and the heat of the morning, into the quiet and cool of inner sanctuary.  To be able to take photos of the reliefs on the outside of the altar, to walk into it, to touch the stones which were first carved in memory of Augustus’ achievements in the years BC.

On the short sides of the altar, there are reliefs showing a procession of priests and members of Augustus’ family.  I stood for a while, even after the audio-guide had stopped explaining who they were – and thought about how their likenesses had stayed in stone for so many years.

I studied the Ara Pacis at high school.  I studied Latin.  I studied classics.  The Ara Pacis was there in my text books, maybe even my exams.  But it wasn’t real until almost 10 years later, when I stood there and touched the stones.

This morning, my parents are on a flight back to New Zealand, and I wish I could be everywhere in the world all at once.

Tash (naTacitus)