Eurospin
Since Santiago de Compostela, my bike and I had spun and rough-slept our way across northern Spain, southern France and the Italian Alps. I had slept in hotels only twice in the past two-and-a-bit weeks: first in Spain’s Pais Vasco and then again in Italy’s Emilia-Romagna region where I had celebrated by lying in bed watching the Wheel of Fortune on TV. Since then, I had continued to roll south down Italy’s boot, straight into the crucible of Tuscany’s countryside and somehow out the other side.
I was now in Umbria and I happened upon a branch of Italy’s discount supermarket chain, Eurospin, which I had first taken to be a giant bingo hall thanks to its blue and white logo which looked like some sort of currency and whose name made me think of the Wheel of Fortune.
By this point I was well-versed in the art of supermarket refuelling: dump the bike and then follow wherever my stomach was leading. After grabbing handfuls of biscuits and wheels of cheese as was the norm, my nose led me to the cooked meat counter where I practised my extensive Italian vocabulary: ‘vorrei questo’, which was said whilst pointing to the cooked meat which glistened and steamed in big pots under an array of heat lamps.
The jolly lady who served me – dressed in the trademark blue and yellow uniform – piled quantities into a container and kept asking if I’d like additions: potatoes, peas, gravy etc. to which I replied, ‘Sì, per favore’ and which were ladled into various other containers. This went on for a while before she began to laugh hysterically, making a comment which her colleague translated for me: ‘She says you are very rich!’ I laughed back, knowing the opposite to be true but knew that I had to eat lots whatever the cost.
Outside, I wheeled my bike and my heavy bag of hot food down the entrance ramp and along the dusty pavement beside which lorries and cars thundered to a spot outside a neighbouring bungalow where I sat with my back pressed against a low picket fence, eating without cutlery and squeezing the edges of the containers into a funnel shape from which the contents flowed into my mouth. Down went minted peas, in went boiled new potatoes and thick gravy, followed by chunks of hot meat. This delicious evening meal eaten at 10am!
Anagnina to Battistini
The thing I enjoy most about visiting a new city is the exploration of its transportation network. Rome was no exception. Sometime in my first week, in-between the numerous drinks receptions, the opportunity arose. Heather Graham, an alumnus of the British School had a solo show at a gallery somewhere across the city and it was decided that a large group would travel there together.
Flaminio station felt more like a car park than I was expecting: the grandeur of the nearby Roman gateway a world away from this weird-smelling underpass, lit by sickly fluorescent strip-lighting and rubber floor.
One of the most pleasing aspects of an unfamiliar city’s metro network is the overwhelming sense of chaos and the confusion you experience before you work out what’s what.
I was therefore pleased to find out that the arrays of maroon-coloured ticket machines which flanked the edges of this underground space seemed totally impossible to navigate like mazes in one of Borges’ short stories. With me were some of the British School’s finest minds who knew how to decode and simplify the ticket-buying process like they were translating a Latin tombstone – which several of them later went on to do.
The train pulled in and punctured the bubble of excitement which had built: we no longer had to guess what the trains would look like or how fast they rushed into the station. Nonetheless, the rush-hour crush elevated my spirit and in the surge of commuters, our group was split. We regrouped at Furio Camillo station after a journey which was spent clamped around the silver hand-railings polished by years of sweaty palms, standing below old TV screens which hung down and which blurting out news, weather and adverts on a never-ending loop. On both sides, walls of bright orange plastic seats supported rows of backsides.
I completed the full length of Line A several weeks later after travelling to the northern terminus at Battistini for a parkrun one Saturday morning and to the southern end at Anagnina as part of a trip led by Dr. Catherine Fletcher.
The termini of metro routes hold something of a mythical quality: you see these place names every time you wait for a train, whenever you glance at the departure board or look at a route map and your mind paints pictures about what they’re like. In his song ‘The Brough Rest Area’ John Shuttleworth imagines what an A-road lay-by is like after he sees it on a sign:
‘Oh the Brough Rest Area, what could be merrier? I envisaged an idyllic scene: sipping lemonade in a shady glade, children paddling in a stream’.
He travels there several verses later and experiences a different reality:
‘Here I am at the Brough Rest Area but I have sad news, my friends: all there is at the Brough Rest Area is a layby and two wheelie bins.’
My experience reaching Anagnina was, at first, similar: it appeared to be nothing grander than a hole in the ground which led us up into the middle of a giant bus gyratory. However, for a self-confessed transport nerd, this place was heaven: a knot of interconnected bus routes converged on this spot, buses pulling in and out sported exotic place names like Grotte Celoni and Fosso Del Cavaliere and ‘planes soared overhead on approach to the city’s Ciampino airport. In nearby fields, Roman aqueducts stood motionless as did the Appian Way a little further away. Clearly this place had been a site of transit for millennia.
Dates for your diary: February and March
1)Thursday 26th February; 18:00 – 21:00; PV of Analogue
💁🏻♂️ Group show curated by Sarah Elson: I am showing 1 painting
📍 Hypha HQ, Unit 3, Euston Tower, 286 Euston Road, NW1 3DP
🚪 Show open: 27th February – 7th March 2026, 12–6pm
2) Thursday 5th March; 18:00 – 20:00; PV of Ex-Roma VI
💁🏻♂️ Group show by Abbey Scholars and Fellows from the British School at Rome, 2020 – 2023: I am showing new paintings.
📍 APT, 6 Creekside, Deptford , SE8 4SA
🚪 Show open: 6th March – 15th March
3) Saturday 7th March; 13:30 – 15:00; Curator’s Tour of Analogue
📍 Hypha HQ, Unit 3, Euston Tower, 286 Euston Road, NW1 3DP
4) Sunday 15th March; 15:00; The artists in conversation with Danny Rolph, Vanessa Jackson and Sasha Craddock.
📍 APT, 6 Creekside, Deptford, SE8 4SA
Further ahead
5) Mid – May: solo exhibition at Nomas* Poster Space, Dundee.
6) June 6th, 13th; Rock, Paper, Scissors group show, London
7) Late July: solo exhibition at Three Colt Gallery, London.