Rome was built for kids, too
Gelato and gladiators to Constantine and cappuccinos, and piazza and pizza, Mary Longmore finds that with a little compromise, Rome is fun for kids and parents.
Mix it up with fun for whole family
Passing through Rome for three days with three kids aged 8, 12, and 15, on a European trip recently, I enlisted a bit of help with some family-friendly activities in the Eternal City. While I would happily have spent the hours in Vatican galleries such as the Sistine Chapel, and wandering the ancient streets and shopping districts in between pasta and aperol spritz stops, that would be their idea of purgatory. So, we struck a balance. I still got my aperol spritz, they learnt stuff about ancient Rome, and we all consumed vast quantities of gelato and pizza.
We’re met off the train and dropped at the Apollo Apartments in Monti, an old residential part of Rome near the the Colosseum.
While it’s not completely ideal for an adult, teen, tween and child to share a double and fold-out sofa, we make it work. The apartment is quiet, clean and extremely well-located, plus there’s plenty of artisanal gelati, alimentari (grocery stores) and the Piazza della Madonna dei Monti nearby.
On our first evening strolling the neighbourhood, we notice that even on a Sunday the piazza is heaving as locals gather to drink and talk around the fountain. Traffic is fast but stops when we make like the locals and step out confidently on to the zebra crossings.
As expected, Romans are almost invariably elegantly dressed and wearing winter clothes although the temperature hovers around
20 degrees Celsius, but perhaps this is nothing for them after a summer heatwave.
On day two, we meet our guide, Angela Raffaelli of InRomaTours, at the Colosseum.
At 8.30am, it is already heaving, but the company’s skip-the-line tickets take us quickly into the 2000-year-old amphitheatre. Angela uses an iPad to show us how the original building and environs looked in 70-80AD, where the emperors and VIPs sat, and the gruesome details of gladiatorial and man versus exotic wild beast fights, before we wander around.
We then check out the nearby Arch of Constantine, built in 312AD to commemorate a battle win, before a welcome stop at Max Roma on Viale Aventino for some delicious bombolini (Italian doughnuts), fresh orange juice and, of course, cappuccino.
The kids are already wearying of ancient ruins, as the heat grows, but we drive up through an elegant neighbourhood on one of Rome’s seven hills, Aventino.
Here, we line up to peer through a tiny keyhole in a set of locked green doors of the Priory of the Knights of Malta, in the Piazza dei Cavalieri di Malta.
And what do we see? A perfect, shrubbery-framed view of St Peter’s Basilica in the distant Vatican City.
From there, it is a short walk to the wellmaintained, leafy Garden of Oranges, with its cool shade and superlative views across the city, studded with domes.
Then it’s on to Campidoglio Hill with its view of the Roman Forum and the city hall square, as well as over the city’s central Palatine Hill to view the ancient chariot-racing stadium, Circus Maximus.
We’ve now had our fill of history, the kids and I, but Angela has another experience in store before she’ll allow us to stop for lunch. We drive under the beating late morning sun up Gianicolo Hill for more panoramic views and some fresh coconut – oddly enough, a traditional Roman treat.
Angela, mysteriously, leads us down a slope, to find some soldiers wheeling out a cannon. The children look slightly nervous and retreat, as she warns us they are going to set it off at noon.
And so they do. This custom began in the 19th century when Pope Pius IX became frustrated with all the church bells tolling at different times to supposedly mark midday. Off it goes, with a loud bang and the burn of gunpowder fills the air.
It must be time for lunch. Angela takes us to the fabulous Rione 13, on Piazza san Cosimato, Trastevere.
What sweet relief to order with a local after our inelegant efforts. We have the risotto of the day, which is an incredibly simple and divine saffron. My 15-year-old orders the polpette – unexpectedly soft meatballs. For my 8-year-old, they make a simple gnocchi in tomato sauce; and for the 12-year-old, it’s carbonara, but with ravioli. I take a wine recommendation, which seems to be a type of chardonnay, quite yellow and unctuous.
We forgo dessert, as Angela is promising us some famous local gelato in the afternoon, and head across the Tiber River for a look around the more bohemian Trastavere part of Rome, where a few artisan leatherware and jewellery makers still reside.
Then it’s off to former Roman temple, the Pantheon, where she explains how water pours in through a deliberate hole in the roof during rainfall, and drains quickly away again through the floor, which the kids think is quite cool.
But she is losing us. Our sole focus is on gelato now so, at last, Angela leads us to Rome’s famous Giolitti shop on Via degli Uffici del Vicario, which has been serving gelati for more than 100 years, including to Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck when filming Roman Holiday in 1953.
The line is gigantic, but she boldly, Roman-style, leads us through the sit-down area to the front of the queue, where we select from dozens of flavours, various combinations of anguria (watermelon), gianduja (choc-hazelnut), melograno (pomegranate) and menta (mint), inducing quite a feeling of ecstasy. And so our day ends and we are exhausted and replete.
Day three is Gruppo Storico Romano – Rome Gladiator School – on Via Appia Antica (the Appian Way). Only the 8-year-old is enthusiastic and I was wishing I’d checked the itinerary a bit more closely.
Together with another family, we arrive to be confronted with a youthful instructor in a short red tunic, with extra tunics – he even convinces the tweens and teens among us to don them.
We begin with a history and tour of helmets and weaponry from gladiatorial life, including tactics such as the use of dead animal skins to scare the barbarians (‘‘basically everyone who wasn’t Roman’’), and some rather horrific brutality practised on barbarians and their horses.
Then it’s into a dusty arena, equipped with wooden swords, for some lessons in gladiatorial combat. My tween could not be less enthused and barely participates. The rest of us learn the moves, do some obstacle courses, and eventually engage in some hearty combat where the loser must ask the ‘‘emperor’’ for (rarely bestowed) mercy. Hail, Caesar, it is cooler today.
That night, for the grand finale, we are in for a four-course meal at Papa Rex restaurant on Via Aurelia. I am slightly dreading managing the kids’ behaviour in a fancy restaurant but, while we are the only family with children present, they are impeccable as we work our way through bruschetta, spaghetti amatriciana (tomato and bacon), veal and sauteed potatoes, to end with a perfect panna cotta.
We fit in a quick trip to the Trevi Fountain, as the skies open, and seek shelter in the Magnum ‘‘pleasure store’’ right next door, on Via Tomacelli. This is possibly the least Roman and most delightful stop for the kids, who get to choose their own icecream, what kind of chocolate to dip it in, and several types of toppings, before it is all sealed in another layer of chocolate and presented on a stick.
The writer travelled at her own expense.