We have posted before about the ability of Rome to renew itself, the way in which land, stone, water and space are reused to meet the needs and ambitions of different eras. There have been long periods when parts of Rome have been left to rot, when the Forum was farm land and the Colosseum pillaged. But overall, one of the most striking features of Rome is the palimpest of reuse and recycled materials.
On our last sightseeing day we walked in south eastern Rome, heading from Trastevere station towards Ostiense, intending to visit the peculiar area known as Monte Testaccio. On the way, we would have to pass through a mysterious area marked on the map only as Mattatoio.
Crossing the bridge, you can see this collection of buildings, with Testaccio behind it. It looks promising at first, as if it might be a pleasant walk through, with maybe some interesting things to look at on the way. There are more pictures in the gallery.
What a disappointment. This is the old market of Rome, the place the farmers brought their stock - what London's Nine Elms does today, and Covent Garden used to be. Today, one building appears to house a farmers' market, in the modern, suburban sense of the term, but it was closed. Much of the rest is completely abandoned, boarded up with grass growing between the lovely buildings and wire fences all around.
There is an irony. The only part of the site in full use is the School of Architecture of the University of Rome. Big spaces, recently modernised with good facilities inside. Lots of students. All on the edge of this abandonment crying out for creative redesign and reuse.
And the insult is next door. Right across the street. A huge area is surrounded by hoardings, enclosing a large hole and some emerging second-rate apartment blocks. The signs proclaim a new market area, destined to regenerate Ostiense.
What a dreadful waste. A loss of some beautiful spaces with which nothing seems to be being done while an ugly complex, which could be anywhere, springs up next door. Such a circle of stupidity never ceases to enrage us, but in Rome of all places it seems even worse.
Over this short-sighted waste looms Testaccio. This hill, 50m high, was made by the careful management of rubbish. When the cargo coasters of Rome were unloaded at the docks here, there were always broken amphora, the clay pots in which the ancients transported wine, grain, olives and so much else. These were carefully stacked here, in one place rather than littered along the banks. Over the centuries, small caves have been hollowed out in the base of the hill, housing wine-cellars (it's always cool), motor workshops and chi-chi bars. The clay remnants have mouldered away and the hill (closed to visitors) is a cool vision of trees.
Sarah earns our way working in regeneration. This jumble of history, care, reuse, waste and short-sightedness exemplifies so much of what is mistaken in our current approaches to urban renewal. We have immensely enjoyed our time in Rome, and learnt so much that it was sad that this was our last memory of the Eternal City.