A newspaper article

The Roman Times

7th June 2019

An Australian man was placed in protective custody on Friday evening in the Italian city of Rome after he was involved in the assault of a large number of tour guides at various locations around the city including Central Rome, the colosseum and the Spanish steps. He was deported from the country this morning.

In an initial assault on Thursday morning the man approached a group of approximately 50 people and proceeded to take the umbrella from their tour leader and to smash it on the base of a nearby fountain before returning to the guide, tearing her microphone from around her neck, throwing it to the ground and stamping upon it.

The man is then alleged to have moved to the tour group immediately following and to have rendered the same upon it's tour leader's tools of trade.

It has been reported that the man had an associate, who though she did not take an active role in the attacks, was seen encouraging and applauding the perpetrator.

The subjects of the attacks were so shocked by their treatment that they deserted their groups leaving approximately 100 dazed tourists milling around unsure how to continue their sightseeing in the absence of their guides.

Eventually the group slowly dispersed and the tourists proceeded to self guide around the sights of the city albeit at a much slower pace than that which had been dictated by their tour guide.

Observers of the deserted tourists reported that they seemed much more relaxed and appeared to enjoy their slow meanderings.

Meanwhile the assailant, described as a mature, fit and remarkably attractive man whose overall appearance and demeanour made a mockery of his later reported age of 71, had reappeared outside the colosseum where he proceeded to destroy the guiding equipment of a further 20 tour groups.

Police expressed surprise that he was able to repeat his assaults so many times without interference from the public – one witness reported that significant numbers of self guiding tourists were seen applauding the man as he carried out the assaults.

News of the assaults circulated rapidly among the tour group community causing numerous organised tours to be cancelled leaving huge numbers of tourists to their own devices.

After the attacks of the first day the Director of Police, while noting that no one was physically injured in the attacks, said he was concerned that they would have a deleterious effect on the city’s tourism income and accordingly would do all that he could to bring the assailant to justice.

Responding to a reporter’s question about the apparent reduction in the number of tourist bunches across the city in the wake of the attacks, he agreed that the tourist traffic had been unusually calm and relaxed in spite of the reduction in the number of tour guides. 

The assaults of Thursday were followed by approximately 20 further random attacks on Friday resulting in a complete close down of the guided tour industry in Rome.

By late Friday evening observers were reporting that the environment within Rome had clearly changed in the wake of the attacks and both independent observers and the Director of Police himself noted that pedestrian traffic in the city had become slower and less congested, that there had been a sudden downturn in the number of confrontations between tourists and that overall the city of Rome was a much more pleasant environment.

It has been reported that the man turned himself into Police around 10 pm on Friday claiming that in carrying out the attacks, he was rendering a service to the tourism industry in Rome.

Police were inclined to agree and resolved that the best way to proceed would be to isolate the man from any further contact with the tour guide community and to ensure that he and his associate left Rome as soon as possible. They were last seen boarding a plane for Taiwan on route to Australia.

Reporters in Rome understand that tourist authorities are now investigating the potential to limit all guided pedestrian tours to a maximum of 6 people. It is further understood that the erection of a monument to the assailant at the top of the Spanish Steps is under active consideration.

AAP.

A last day in Rome - June 6th

A last day in Rome – Bernie is keen to see the colosseum – it has always slipped off her agenda in previous visits to the city.

Off for breakfast at the White Cafe nearby – greeted by a young Philipino – he recognizes the accent – talks of his parents coming to Italy when he was a child leaving him behind in his grandmother's care – “grandmother died” says he with a tear welling up in his eye – “I decided to come here – mum has died and my father is sick” says he – “I will have to stay for the time being”.

We head off on the 30 minute walk to the colosseum – the pedestrian traffic? - initially moderate – then something more than moderate – the pavement narrow and the battles begin!

Tour guide and entourage  after tour guide entourage charge towards us in a manner and with an aggression that clearly demonstrates their deeply held belief that they are the sole owners and occupiers of the city – they occupy the full width of the pavement – they surround any individual who happens to share the pavement with them and demand right of way even when there is no remaining pavement to render to them.

After the initial few assaults we find some free space in a Piazza to regain our composure – another tour guide arrives – stops immediately beside us and begins her spiel – suddenly we find ourselves completely surrounded by a bus load of her ear piece wearing followers – we try and we try to find a way out of the crush to escape certain suffocation! – her followers look at us as Intruders who have dared to walk through them!   - “how rude” says one.

The sun is strong – it combines with the tour guides and rough pavement to make arrival at the colosseum occur  later than expected – never mind – we have “skip the line” tickets – we arrive – lots of skip the line assistants – “what time is your ticket for?”we are in a line in a flash.

All good thinks I – not the case – everyone seems to have skip the line tickets – the line inches forward and inches forward some more – the roaming water sellers do a great trade.

We eventually make it into the arena – worth it? – of course! – could the experience have been better? – of course! – how? - justby preventing those  bloody tour guides causing traffic chaos at every turn – in the colosseum they do nothing that an audio guide could not do better yet they force the visiting population to move without the randomisation so essential to an effective highly populated environment.

We prematurely escape the arena – we walk to the roadway – an Italian taxi driver has had a premonition of our plight and have diverted his vehicle to coincide with our arrival at the roadway – we escape the pedestrian chaos and enjoy the relatives calm and goodwill of the motorists of Rome.

We lunch at Piazza Barbarinni.

I escape to the suite – Bernie would not countenance such a thing when in the city she loves – she visits the Spanish Steps – she shops – she stops for margaritas! – she suffers again from a space invading tour guide who is rendered the benefit of a lesson in good manners delivered in a manner that only Bernie could deliver.

We are to be deported from Rome tomorrow morning!

To Rome and the Catacombs - 5th June

4:15am – we struggle to keep our eyes open and we live our cases towards reception and our meeting with the representative of Odessa Transfers for our ride to the airport.

Oh no! – that is not the clean cut Ruslan we have been told to expect – it is fat bellied Eugene!

I suspect that in reality he is Alex  and that Odessa transfers is his own operation – he tells us it is his wife's birthday and he had to get up early to go to the flower market to buy her flowers so he had volunteered to let Ruslan sleep in.

“Who gets up at 4:00am to buy flowers” thinks I.

We load the bags – I assume Bernie will occupy the front seat with the driver as is her normal want – not with fast-bellied Eugene driving! – she makes it known in no uncertain terms that I will occupy the front seat!

We head off – again Eugene or Alex or  Ruslan or whatever his name really is, launches into his speil – famous street for prostitute says he – go down there it is cheaper – look just there – pull up there – out on your hazard lights for a few seconds – someone will turn up to sell you drugs – look up there says he – that is the police station says he – they are all corrupt says he.

As we progress to the airport Eugene receives phone calls - animated conversations follow - who on earth receives multiple calls at 4:30 in the morning - Bernie can think only of a pimp! 

The airport is reached and Eugene is off – the terminal a relic of the communist era – hardly fiting of a city of 1 million.

If the Odessa Airport is from late 50s, then the Security staff are from the mid 30s – "take off your belt!" – demands the scanner belt operator! - “it is plastic and it is sown to the trousers” says I – “take off belt! – “it is sown  to the trousers” – “take off belt!” – a rip and a tear and the belt comes off – the plastic buckle flys through the air never to be seen again! – a silent prayer that the trousers will remain at full mast for the remainder of the trip to Rome!

“Go through scanner!” Says the guard – “pacemaker” says l – “ you go through!” – he barks.

 We are on our way just a little rattled – the flight on Ukrainian air good! – the service? – a delight – memories of the security man fade!

We change over in Kiev – unremarkable! – the flight transition smooth - off to Rome – all on time!

Things go to plan - a driver is waiting - we are at the Trevi Suite in no time - the reception staffed by pleasant people with excellent English - the room all that one can expect of budget accommodation in Rome and indeed a lot more - the decor modern and stylish even if the complex that houses it is old - old - old - even if its lift terrorises anyone who chooses to avail themselves of its services!

We rest awhile - then we head to the Piazza Barberini just a few minutes away for our catacombs tour - we meet Valerio - we join his party of 20 Americans on the tour - the Chapel of Bones - no photos please! - then a surprise - we are loaded in a bus to go to one of the Catacombs (no photos please) on the outskirts of the old city - in our ignorance we assumed they were nearby - at least that lesson is something we did learn from the tour!   

The bus travels a while - we are then all disgorged - handed over to another guide - taken through the Catacombs beneath the Church of Saint Sebastian - I leave uninspired by the experience - Bernie leaves impressed and satisfied!

 Back into the bus - I would have thought that it would have been logical for the bus to deposit us at the place it picked us up from - such logic seems not to apply to the roman! - We are left with a 30 minute walk home - Bernie photographs.

Then she dines in a trattoria immediately under our window - Jewish twice fried artichoke!

A final day in Odessa - 4th June

We rise to a tour of the old City – electric trolley – guide and driver – the guide? – 25 year young male Odessian – English very good – proud.

He tells of the history of Odessa – a young city says he – just 250 years old – “ multicultural” says he.

He talks of the city founders - he talks of Katherine the Great– he talks of it's grain trading history – of it's free trade status – of it's rapid growth – of it's planners – of the involvement of American revolutionaries in the Russian federation ( needs checking)

He takes us to the famous steps – he talks of the early silent movie that galvanised opposition to the Russian royalty.

A scene of Cossacks attacking protesters on the steps – a baby in a runaway pram is seen crashing down the steps – a scene sufficiently horrific to change the course of history – a film decried as propaganda by the West described as a masterpiece by Chaplin.

On wards past the Opera House – built by the Tolstoy family – one of the great Opera House of Europe says he – the Tolstoy family did a lot for Odessa says he.

Past the monument.

Past more delightful architecture – a child runs across the road in front of the trolley – no real danger – the mother pursues the child – catches him – proceeds to slap him across the face – Bernie is outraged – the young guide looks sad – “you can tell a country’s culture by the way it treats it's children and it's women” says he – “we have someway to go” says he!

He drops us off at the park in the centre of the old City – we sit and watch the people stroll by – we watch the children play seemingly independent of their mothers – the reality is that they are under constant surveillance be these multi-taskers.

We watch shirtless men, young girls, young mothers, young men in their  tee shirts with English sayings emblazoned on the front – if only they knew the Russian translation of the savings they proudly display to the world they may have chosen a different shirt!

It is early summer and clearly everyone is making use of the extended hours of sunlight, the flowering of the plants, the green of the environment and the delightful weather – people look happy and at least in this small part of town look prosperous!

We wander home comfortable in the old City .

Brian's birthday dinner is used as a farewell gathering for the travellers who have been newly christened Murray Rollers. The origin of the name? – the result of an extended nomination, shortlisting and voting process – a process that I proffered may well have been better served by a more severe application of benevolent dictatorship than the application of Democratic selection but in true Mayo spirit David persisted with the Democratic process and managed to achieve an outcome that was deemed entirely satisfactory by all.

The dinner? – a success – farewells all round – the travellers will travel again – next time as the Murray rollers!

Home to prepare for a 4:30am hotel departure for Rome via Kiev.

Beef Streak Ukrainian Style - 3rd June

A day of taking it easy - a late - late rise - a slow - slow - slow breakfast - a quiet morning.

We join a selection of our fellow travellers on a tour of the Jewish Museum - a small affair - set in a typical apartment of the communist area - a street sign so small that its location would be difficult to establish without the assistance of the wizards of google - "the sign has to be small" says Knud - "otherwise they would have to pay the protectors" - says he.

Through a wrought iron gateway - into a stone paved community courtyard serving as common property for the three apartment levels that surround it - past the community well - met at the door of the apartment by a member of the Jewish community.

The man is in his mid 50's - attired as a typical moderate religious Jewish man - he speaks like a moderate - he speaks matter of factly" of matters that clearly touch his emotions - he guides us through the four or five rooms that constitute the museum - he points to pictures and charts and objects as he talks through the history of the Jewish community in Odessa  - he talks of the times when the numbers reached 40% of the population - when they fell to 10% - he talked of the Jewish contributions to the arts and sciences - he talked of the Romanian occupation of Odessa - he talks of the assimilation of the Jews into the secular life of the Odessa - he  tells of communist era when Jews men would refrain from growing their beards and wearing Jewish attire until they had safely reached retirement age and no long had to rely on income from employment. I leave the little museum thankful my personal life and times!

We wander back towards home.

We adjourn for a later afternoon dinner - the Bratia Grill - on the main pedestrian street of the old city - delightful street side table - wine - some more wine - stories from the travellers and more stories from the travellers - a menu item labelled as beef steak chosen - delightful - delightful - not a beef steak in the Australian tradition - rather a oval shaped rissole made of beef and cheese and herbs and spices served on a bed of pureed potato - the taste and the presentation a delight - we wander home -  we wonder if we are capable of keeping up with social agenda of our fellow travellers - the males pause to try local beer - the females stop at a corner restaurant with the remainder of the travellers to drink wine and to talk and talk some more.

We fall into bed!

Kapmeh is mort! - 2nd June

Bernie is tired - she sleeps – Sam shops - Brian and I wander the blue line of the walking map.

Towards the centre of the old city - the state of the pavement and the atmosphere of the street gradually improves from acceptable to delightful - the pavements become smoother with missing paving stone clusters becoming less frequent and less extensive.

Buildings become increasing impressive - more and more cafes - a cafe culture obvious.

We past tributes to Pushkin and pass the Philharmonic Hall where the Smith‘s and the Milliken’s will enjoy a violin recital tonight.

We encounter the start of the Tour de Ribas/Odessa Grand Prix - tall - tall elegant girls present trophies to short wirey men.

 On wards towards the opera house – magnificent.

  

Past rose garden and fountain - I am surprised - this is all so unexpected - I think of fat bellied Eugene - I wonder why he never chose to mention any of this! - this could be any of the famous European cities!

Along the tree lined promenade that looks out over the new port area.

We arrive at the famous steps of Odessa - no sign of spies escaping capture by propelling their vehicles down the stairs - no sign of gunshot or explosion - alas my memories must have been created by the magicians of the silver screen.

We pass over the mother-in-law’s bridge – look over at the “lover’s bridge” - look out over the bay.

Photograph the symbols of eternal love removed from the bridge to ensure that it remains capable of carrying the lovers of future years.

 Pass the Shah's Palace and past more impressive architecture

Past yet another impressive building

Pass 240Z and stop for coffee on a street corner to watch the world go by.

Into the central park - alive with people - it is Sunday - tots dance - young girls sing - young girls belly dance - everyone relaxed - everyone happy.

Past street guard station and back to the hotel.

Sleep away the afternoon before it is time for a visit to Opera – never been before – no idea what to expect – we have our in-depth knowledge of this fine art in common with a number of our fellow travelers – scheduled for 3 hours 40 minutes with three intermissions – “don’t think I will last past the first” says one!

We meet the fellow travelers in the foyer of the grand opera house – one of the best in Europe says the guide and their guidebooks! – a legacy of the Tolstoy family – “stay where you are” instructs Knud.

Knud and Brian head to acquire the pre-booked tickets – they are sent to the back of the queue – they work their way forward – they eventually reach the window – they attempt to interact with the Russian speaking middle-aged matron charged with the responsibility of providing appropriate and courteous service to artistically inclined patrons of the august house – she is in a mood that is clearly not conducive to provision of such services – Knud seeks his pre-book but unpaid tickets – she bellows “today” – “no” – “no” – “today” – Knud mutters and mutters some more!

He persists as only Knud can persist! – the rest of travelers gather in the crowded ticket hall to watch the interaction -  eventually she is worn down – the only way she is going to rid herself of this pesky Dane is to somehow allocate him tickets – the tickets are produced! – she holds them tightly in her hand and indicates the cost – Knud calls in Brian’s credit card – the effect is to further enrage the face bellowing from behind the glass – “no” – ‘no”.

Knud fumbles for cash from his pocket – he calls to Brian – “give me all your money” – Brian fumbles – the travelers respond to the call for cash – suddenly there are bundles of Hryvnia being flashed - Christine joins the party – she opens her bag to contribute to the flurry of money –

Suddenly there is a high-pitched squeal of a volume that would do justice to any diva that has ever graced the stage of this house! – “he had his hand in my bag” she says – Chris has already responded and placed a vice like grip on the arm of the accoustee! – the squeal attracts the attention of security.

The accoustee is detained – a short, thin, middle aged man of roma appearance – he is quiet – he seems resigned to his fate – he stands there – one coat sleeve hanging loose in the manner of an amputee’s dress – the arm used for acquisition of ill-gotten gains tucked out of sight. – “security calls the police – “he didn’t get anything” says Christine – “do you want to press charges?” – “no!” -  she once again looks down at her bag and gives the zipper an additional closing tug!

Into the theatre – it is worthy of its reputation! – majestic! – we reach our seats – in the front rows! – Knud has done well!

The stage curtains drawn -the orchestra plays the opening tune – gee that is familiar! – Lyn smiles “the Geelong theme song” says she!

The opera – Carmen – Kapmeh! – the stage full of performers – Bernie counts them – 70 on the stage in the one scene – bright – bright costumes – simple effective sets – wonderful dancers – great singers – the first intermission comes and goes – no sign of the travelers wanting to leave – the second and third intermissions follow and again the travelers remain – they love the show – I love the show – we all love the show!

It is 11:00 at night yet Bernie and I feel perfectly safe walking alone back to our hotel on the edge of the old city – we stop at the Italian restaurant opposite – we strike up a conversion with a Dane and his Russian wife – “we love Odessa” they say.