Trastevere Apartment

The apartment we have rented via VRBO (the site we have used for the past 13 years, very successfully and happily) is the first of two apartments in Rome this month. We didn’t decide that we would definitely go abroad this fall until around a month before our departure, and by that time the number of rentals available was greatly diminished compared to what we have usually experienced. There was no single suitable apartment available for the full three-week period we planned to be here, so we will spend about half of the time in each of two apartments, this one in Trastevere, where we have spent several previous stays. (Trastevere means “across (prefix trans-) the Tiber (Tevere),” the same way that the Oltrarno area in Florence means “beyond (oltre) the Arno,” and both were historically working-class neighborhoods, though now both are vibrant and not remarkably affordable.)

The second apartment is described on the website as “Spanish Steps area,” even though it is really pretty far from the Spanish Steps but is very close to the Mausoleum of Augustus and the Ara Pacis (Altar of Peace) —sites familiar to students of classical Roman history and art, but names not recognized by the broader population who have at least heard of the Spanish Steps along with the Forum and the Trevi Fountain and a few other star attractions. We move to that one next Monday.

The building this apartment is in, according to the woman who owns it, dates to the Settecento, the 1700s. From the outside you can’t tell much, as there is construction scaffolding all over it, and there’s a lot of work being done on the inside public areas too, which, along with the exterior work, is frequently very noisy, but not to a degree that we can’t sleep through it pretty well during our deepest sleeping hours in the morning. There may also be some work going on in some number of the apartments that make up the building—we really have no idea about that. When all the work is done, I think it's going to be a lovely building.

The only feature of our apartment that is old, we were told, is the floor tiling in the living room and bedroom (pictured further up this page), which we have been warned is susceptible to scratching and that we should be very careful of the tiles. They are not as old as the building but are certifiable antiques, well over a hundred years old, and the husband-owner showed us two not-quite-matching ones they had to buy to complete the flooring, each piece of which cost €50 in today's market for antique replacement parts.

The apartment itself has many virtues, chief among them being its location—in the trendy Trastevere section, on a relatively quiet street, and on what is termed the first floor, i.e., only 28 steps up from the ground floor. Compared to a hotel room it offers many conveniences at a significantly lower price. We can walk easily to many Tourist Attractions (though we haven’t done much of that so far) and there are many good to excellent restaurants close at hand. It is small, but it provides all the basic things a visitor needs. It overlooks a large courtyard behind all the other buildings around the block, which include, purely by chance—we didn’t know until we got here—the first VRBO apartment we rented in Rome, in fall 2010. We can see one of the windows of that apartment from one of our windows. There’s a palm tree growing just beyond our little balcony.

The apartment has been completely reconstructed in a spare modern style with jutting beams and shelves. It was probably originally a single large room of around 27’ x 20’, and has been is divided into four areas—you can’t really call them all rooms—that flow into each other, each area connected (or separable) by at least three doors, mostly sliding doors, to the other spaces (except that the bathroom has only one door). The small balcony has an open area and an enclosed area. White walls everywhere, modern lighting. The approximately queen-sized bed is comfortably firm. Most of the furnishings—a closet unit, several shelf units, some small low cabinets with drawers—are not new and not particularly well designed for tenants’ convenience, but we are making do: the closet has a (very high) bar but only eight coat hangers, and no shelves, so I have put into the closet, to serve as shelving for the rectangular “packing cubes” that many of my clothes are in, the two chairs that are intended for the small breakfast table in the kitchen, as that table is covered with the microwave, the tea kettle and the toaster and is therefore not available for sitting down to eat breakfast at. The shelf units on several walls are about six inches deep and more suited to books than to clothing, but Steve has folded his clothes in such a way as to lie neatly on the bookshelves. As for books, there are a few motley and ancient ones, in addition to a variety of colorful decorative objects, and they are all arranged on shelves high enough not to be practical for anything else.

The kitchen is equipped with a minimum of basics: a mini-fridge, a two-burner gas stove, a small sink with two recycling containers below (food waste and mixed non-recyclables). There are four of some items—dinner-size plates, water glasses, wine glasses, flimsy cutlery—and two each of small plates, pasta plates, cereal bowls, coffee mugs, espresso mugs. There are several pots of different sizes and one small frying pan, a small colander, and several other miscellaneous standard kitchen items. There are a number of what I would consider serious omissions if we were here for a long time, but we don’t plan to do much cooking so, really, who cares? Since there is no automatic dishwasher, and hardly any counter space, dishes need to be washed reasonably promptly after each use, so it is not a grave handicap to have only four plates or two mugs.

None of the idiosyncrasies of the apartment is sufficient to diminish our appreciation of the convenient location and cosy suitability for two people, and as with all our previous rentals, we get a small insight into how normal Italians not in the hotel business believe that a living space should be arranged. We are very sensible of our good fortune in being here.