Marilyn Stowe Blog

Roman Holiday

Situated just outside Rome, a respectful distance from two seaside resorts where Romans come to escape the heat of the city, La Posta Vecchia was built in the 17th century on the ruins of a Roman villa. Caravaggio is said to have landed on its shores when he came to visit the Pope in Rome. In the 20th century, La Posta Vecchia was refurbished by Jean Paul Getty for his private use as a summer home. Churchill, Kennedy, and Marilyn Monroe all stayed here.

After Getty returned to the USA, La Posta Vecchia became a hotel and this is my second visit. I could go on (and on!) about the peace and quiet, the food, the always friendly staff, the uninterrupted views of the sea, the terrace, the beach, the sumptuous furnishings, the garden… But what I love above all is being able to jump onto one of the bicycles and to make my way through the manicured grounds. I cycle past the organic vegetable gardens, past the grass tennis court, past the heliport where I once watched a Russian oligarch and his entourage land – and out through the imposing gate.

I like to cycle along the lengthy, tree-lined avenue, where I can join lots of happy Italian families, cycling slowly on their bikes, or jogging or walking to the sea. The pace of life is very slow, and everyone is relaxed and smiling. I remember childhood holidays spent in Italy with my family. Now I am here as an adult, a mum myself, cycling with other parents, children, grandparents and friends. There is ice cream, food, wine and good weather. A tiny train, filled with happy passengers, toots as it wends its way through the seaside streets, just as it did years ago when I was riding on it too.

On Sunday we visited Rome. Standing in the gardens of the Villa Borghese, we enjoyed the spectacular view. From there you can take in the nearby Spanish Steps, packed with tourists. The view stretches all the way to the Vatican City, where you can make out St Peter’s Square and its celebrated dome. There are so many churches, statues, fountains, squares, historic buildings and bridges, it takes your breath away. It is impossible not to be overawed by the beauty of this city.
Of course, Rome is known for more than its beauty. The unyielding, absolute power that went into creating the city, spanning thousands of years, is laid out for all visitors to see. The famous Roman motto SPQR is carved into ancient and modern buildings everywhere. The Latin reads Senatus Populus Que Romanus, which translates as The Senate and the People of Rome. Those letters remind everyone that Rome was the centre of power and success.
Looking out at the city, I was also reminded of its colder, more steely side, where several thousand  years of history, politics and religion all come together. Where once, life or death depended upon an upturned or downturned thumb. Where more recently, a Fascist dictator reigned  and is still remembered in the heart of many of the city’s most magnificent buildings. And where today the Pope, the head of one of the most powerful religions in the world, rules the Vatican: a state within a state, surrounded by some of the greatest works of art ever produced, venerated by millions around the world as the true representative of heaven on earth. Power produced the Rome of today, and some of that power remains.

So why was I musing upon power? Perhaps it was a little story, carried in the Sunday press, which I found sad and depressing. It centres upon a woman who complains about the use (or abuse?) of power as she sees it in her divorce. Her soon-to-be ex-husband is a high court judge. Is the system ranged against her? “I am being totally stitched up by the judiciary”, she is supposed to have said.

There is no doubt that her husband is a formidable opponent. The article has details of how the case is locked away in a special cabinet in the Principal Registry in London, protected from intrusive eyes, how he has has demanded various undertakings of the wife and how the case has been transferred out of Central London to Somerset. The husband is trying to stop his wife talking to the media, and his solicitor claims that an order “preventing information being released to the Press” has been obtained.

Apparently the wife has described this behaviour as “pathetic bullying”. On the other hand, I doubt that the husband sees it that way at all. I imagine that he finds the media attention tiresome and embarrassing. It seems to me that the only way to resolve that particular case, and for all the parties involved to return to normality, is to settle as quickly as possible on terms that are actually agreed, not imposed.

On another note, last week’s publication of a peculiar paper on media access and reporting in the family courts has also been playing on my thoughts. The Judicial Communications Office is “confident [the paper] will be of practical use to journalists, judges and practitioners alike”.  However I think it’s fair to say that much of the content is baffling to lawyers, given the complexity of the subject matter and content. Far from being empowering, the paper must surely be incomprehensible to many litigants in person. Clearly there is still some way to go before our legal system becomes more “open” to all.

Looking across Rome I fell to thinking that, even with the best of intentions, perhaps power can be used too easily – or just perceived to be used too easily – without an understanding of how crushing the results can be. Then again, perhaps the consequences are fully understood.

Power can be disturbing. As undoubtedly magnificent as Rome was, I couldn’t shake the knowledge that the city had been founded and fed upon power, and that its power had been cruelly exercised throughout history. Returning from the city to the sleepy seaside, where I could cycle invisibly among the throng of carefree holidaymakers once again, was a simple joy to treasure.