59 - The Countess, The Majestic and Rome

THE MAJESTIC HOTEL, Rome

Rome, the via Veneto near the U.S. Embassy (photo Philip Greenspun)

     It was my first trip to Rome, part of that long train journey with Ann from Paris to Sicily over Christmas of 1978.

Rome was to be a highlight, because we were to stay in a mansion just off the Borghese Gardens; it belonged to an Italian countess who operated her version of a bed and breakfast.

The Countess and her chambre d'hôte had been enthusiastically recommended by an American actress I knew back then.  The ex-wife of a French television personality, she had once made a minor movie in Italy with Anita Ekberg, but by the time I knew her she was neither married nor acting.  I don't remember how I met her, but I knew her just long enough to have listened to her glowing picture of the Rome property and its owner, which turned out to be inaccurate on both counts.

The Countess immediately revealed herself as a thoroughly unpleasant lady.  Her house was more than dilapidated, and the quarters reserved for our use, grim.   She lost no time in rudely insisting that we were not to darken any part of the home other than our room.  

The whole affair turned out to be one of those colossal disappointments.   I particularly recall the unhygienic state of the shower.  Not only were the walls peeling big-time, there was no possibility of squeezing out  more than a trickle of water.

I think our room had once been part of the maids' quarters, and it was not at all what I had in mind when deciding to cohabit with the Italian aristocracy.

We wanted to leave as soon as we saw what we were getting into, but the proprietor was uncooperative.  She already had our money, and it was only thanks to Ann's special negotiating skills that we ended up spending just the first night, then collecting a refund for the rest.

At the moment of our departure, the Countess, who spoke little English, called after us, “Good riddance!” Apparently it is an English expression used commonly in Italian, and rarely has an insult been so mutually felt.

Both our unattractive lodgings and witch-like landlady put a damper on that first glimpse of Rome, but we did soldier on, and during our first stroll around the neighborhood I discovered the beautiful Majestic Hotel, not far away at the bottom of the Via Veneto.

The Majestic was no longer one of the very top Roman hotels, but that was hardly what we were looking for anyway and even less what might fit our budget.  It had certainly known its day of glory, however (see following sidebar), and it was still pretty grand, occupying a prime spot on one of the world's most elegant avenues.

We debated as to whether we even dared ask, it seemed so above our means. Ultimately we ventured inside where we were greeted with all the Italian warmth and charm that the Countess so sorely lacked.

It was that off-season part of December, and for whatever reasons, the hotel was almost empty.   We were proposed a rate of about 30-dollars, which was less than the Countess' bed and breakfast package.  Am I exaggerating on the downscale?   It's so long ago, it is hard to tell.   At any rate, coming from our unhappy experience in the Borghese Gardens, it surpassed our wildest dreams.

A suite at the Majestic today ...not quite as I remember from 1978 (photo courtesy of hotel)

It turned out to be a special, sunny room overlooking a little churchyard with gardens tended by an order of friars.   As we were on the way towards uncharted territory in Taormina (see Musing No. 5 "Room Without Bath"), the Majestic's elegant over-sized bathroom was a godsend and more than we ever expected.

Whenever I remember that luxurious stay at the Majestic, I can still smell the marble of the bathroom floor which --then just as now-- conjured up delicious childhood memories of  Grandmother Pleasants' home in Aberdeen.  

Majestic's managing director in 1979

SIDEBAR: more about the Majestic

Unchanged facade of the Majestic today (photo courtesy of hotel)

      

      The Majestic, inaugurated in 1889, was the first hotel built on the street which was to be called the Via Veneto. 

     Designed by Gaetano Koch, known at the end of the 19^th century as the “prince of architects”, the land cut through the Cappuccini friars' gardens.   Considered from the start to be architecturally ahead of its time, the Majestic's design garnered considerable attention, pundits likening its front facade to the rounded silhouette of a grand piano.
 

Marcello Mastroianni on the Via Veneto (Google)

      If the Majestic knew a certain success in its early years, it was not until the end of the First World War and the boom of the 1920’s that its fortunes reached a zenith.  It was during this era of prosperity and flamboyance that the rich and titled and the first movie  stars  turned it into one of Rome’s “in” places to be and to be seen. 

      The Majestic figured prominently in the iconic 1960 Federico Fellini movie “La Dolce Vita.”  The hotel's exterior was seen as a backdrop in several scenes, one with Marcello Mastroianni, highlighting the Via Veneto.  The film made the entire world aware of the street, if not of its first hotel.

Director Fellini on the Via Veneto circa 1960 (Magnum)

Your input is welcomed:  hotel-musings@hotmail.fr

CROSS REFERENCING … a look at other postings

Ann was also mentioned in blog No. 5, "Room Without Bath" Sept. 2012;  No. 20, "Decaffeinated coffee ... in Hungarian?" Jan 2013;  blog No. 33, "Breakfast in the 1970's" April 2013; and No. 58 "Rue des Beaux-Arts:  Oscar Wilde, Francis Bacon and David Hockney" April 2014 (to access, click on highlighted titles).