Each evening when the kids are getting ready for bed, I close the shutters and curtains in the playroom and their bedroom. And each evening Iâ€™m struck by the view from each window. From the playroom I can see the Porta San Paolo, which looks like a turreted castle, and behind it, the Piramide. I never knew there was a pyramid in Rome until we moved here. Sure itâ€™s a small one compared to Egypt but itâ€™s still an impressive sight to see from the window each night â€“ almost 2 000 years old.
Out of the bedroom window I can see the top of Monte Testaccio, a man-made hillock of broken amphorae dumped there over the centuries. What strikes me each evening though is the large crucifix on top of the hill. It reminds me of an engraving in the synagogue here, of a jeering mob rolling a hook-nosed jew down the hill in a barrel. And now thereâ€™s a crucifix on top. Makes you think. The hill is, as far as I know, not open to the public, although the summer all-nighters in the (mostly gay) clubs at its base often spill over onto the hillsides.