Tourism is big in Italy. Big enough to support the burgeoning economy, especially in the cities. For this reason alone, tourism is encouraged, even among fellow countrymen and women. At one point, early in the journey, I was beginning to wonder if I wold ever meet a true Roman.
At every opportunity the Italian Tourist Board has provided some vantage point, turnstile, queue, talking bus or banner whereby the unsuspecting American, German, Japanese, English ...... and two Aussies can reach into their collective pocket and pay homage to Italian history, art, food and ciche in the form of Pope on a Rope, key hole viewing and a never ending parade of fag smoking, mobile phone carrying, cafe drinking gladiators roaming the streets with their plasic swords and leather kilts threatening to beat up anyone who doesn't respect the rudeness of a Roman hawker.
The view from Aventino Hill is spectacular enough; worthy of a look and a snap shot. The advantage to such a place is that it's at the top of a hill. If you hang over the edge you will see all the other tourists on the road below looking up. Some might even suggest catching a bus to the top. There isn't one.
But there are refreshments. And souvenirs. Oh dear.
If you have enough cash and connections to the Mafia you might afford a wedding at the church. The criteria for attendance is very high heals, a large hooked nose and a look straight out of The Godfather.