I rose early and made myself a coffee, then walked down through Trastevere, to the river, across the pedestrian Ponte Sisto, and to the Campo dei Fiori by seven, when the market was to open. People were still setting up their stalls, and I took my time walking around and observing. It was a bit of a disappointment; it wasn't anywhere near as good as the Venetian market. The produce was not as varied, and there weren't that many vendors. I went to a celebrated baker, Il Forno, near the closed La Carbonara, and bought a loaf of ciabatta. After cruising the stalls some more, I settled on a kilo of large, dark cherries, which cost me L.15000.
Back at home, everyone ate breakfast. Our choices for the day were circumscribed, since all the museums were closed. We went out to the Via della Lungara, the closest thing to a major north-south street between us and the Tiber-side highway, and half a block south was the Villa Farnesina. This is a small Renaissance palazzo with a couple of interesting loggias frescoed by Raphael, and a salon upstairs with trompe l'oeil views of Rome (though they were not particularly convincing).
From there we moved through the arch of the Porta Settimana and down to the piazza of Santa Maria in Trastevere. The porch had an extensive collection of Latin inscriptions set into the wall, and inside we admired the tiled pavements and the Byzantine mosaics, the first we'd seen since Venice two years ago. There were more mosaics outside on the cornice of the facade, though these were difficult to see.
We continued along Viale della Lungaretta, as usual trying to stay in the shade while dodging cars and scooters coming along the narrow, sidewalk-less street. We crossed the busy Viale Trastevere at the amusingly-named Piazza Sidney Sonnino, and continued to Santa Cecilia in Trastevere.
This was a pilgrimage of sorts, since Santa Cecilia is the patron saint of music; she faced her martyrdom singing. The church had a nice courtyard, but was rather plain and modern (read: eighteenth-century). Its only moving feature was Carlo Maderno's statue of the saint as her body was found on exhumation, drawn up with her face to the ground to expose the three half-cuts in her neck from her botched decapitation. It was smaller than the reproductions indicated, nestled under the main altar.
It was lunchtime, but it was also Monday, and most restaurants we knew about were closed. Dubious-looking places with signs in several languages beckoned. We ended up having pizza a taglio at the bakery I had found on the first morning, Panificio La Renella. I got three rectangular cut-to-order slices: tonno e carciofi, patate e mozzarella, and mozzarella di bufala, pomodoro, e rughetta. We ate them perched on high stools by a narrow counter; miraculously, no one spilled anything on themselves.
From there, the kids and N headed home, and I went to the Standa supermarket. To be honest, this was not much better than a neighbourhood alimentari; its only advantage was that I could compare items on the shelf and not have to ask for them by name. I bought some wine to cook fruit in (I am allergic to figs, and most fruits with pits, but if they're cooked briefly it's okay), a large quantity of toilet paper (for the kids, who like all kids use it in great profusion), some more juice and water, and some Sapori biscotti for treats/bribes.
I hauled everything back home; the kids were doing their violin practice, and N proceeded to take a nap. We left the apartment again in the late afternoon and crossed the river by Ponte Massimo, going up to the Via del Governo Vecchio and looking at the Renaissance buildings and the small shops. On a corner near Piazza Navona we encountered the Pasquino, an ancient statue that was the "democracy wall" of the Baroque era, and even today has posters on it (though we didn't bother to read them; if this had been Beijing, we might have thought differently). The street led down to the busy Corso Vittorio Emanuele again, and we crossed the street to look at Sant'Andrea della Valle. It was a typically Baroque church, with some nice frescoes of the life of Saint Andrew and a decent-sized dome. The kids were amused to learn that the first act of Tosca (which they'd seen) was set here, albeit in a fictional chapel.
Retracing our steps, we found the pizzeria Da Baffetto just opening, and were the first ones seated, at outside tables hugging the wall of the little Vicolo. The place was clearly geared for tourists, but the pizzas were quite crisp and tasty. Pizzerias tend to open somewhat earlier than restaurants and this enabled us to make an early night of it.