Runny Roman Noses

What has a big hooked shape and runs all the time? You see one wherever you look all over Rome. Yep, the nasone, big nose, it is. But not that kind of nose.

The nasone is a type of fountain that delivers water all over the city. This utilitarian beast was first introduced in 1871 by the city’s first mayor following Italy’s unification. The metal cylinder stands a bit more than three feet tall, and the distinctive hook that gives it its name extends from one side. I read somewhere that the law creating these fountains required them to be placed every sixty meters. I haven’t been able to confirm that, but there are more than 2,500 throughout the city.

And the water flows all the time. It’s good, sweet water brought in by the aqueducts. Some guide books advise tourists to carry a plastic cup, but the cognoscenti don’t need plastic. If you place your finger under the spout to stop the flow, the water is diverted through an ingenious hole and spurts up in an arc like a drinking fountain from my school days. It takes a little practice to keep your feet dry, but it’s well worth the effort.

This free-flowing, and free, water supply is an integral part of Roman life. So much so, in fact, that during recent construction to rebuild part of a street and the adjacent sidewalk, the workers diverted the water with a hose and set up a temporary fountain for the few weeks that the nasone was inside the construction site.

One enterprising flower seller is not so generous. He has built an apparatus that completely covers the nasone beside his stand. It includes a vat that is always full of clean water; he uses it to dampen his plants and wash his pots.

Cooks or waiters in small restaurants often carry out tubs of salad greens to wash them under a nasone. I frequently see people exiting the market with their bags of produce stop by the fountains outside to wash an apple, munching on the fresh fruit as they walk along. And dogs adore them. And dogs tug on their leashes, dragging their owners to the flowing water for a drink.

My municipio—local government office—sets up an ice rink in a nearby piazza during the winter. It’s a popular after school or work pastime. I see staff getting ready for business in the afternoon as the sun begins to sink. They pipe water over from the nasone and smooth out the ice before opening up to the public.

The nasone provides homeless people a place to bathe. I even saw a pair of homeless men doing their laundry under one. They had a bucket for agitating the wash and rinsing. When the clothes were clean, they each took an end of things, including a large blanket, and twisted to wring out the water.

Many people in my family have the proboscis type of Roman nose. I’ve always attributed that to the time Julius Caesar and his men spent on the British Isles. It makes me laugh to think of that other kind of Roman nose when I walk past a nasone.

Water, Water Everywhere

Unlike many European cities, Rome has an abundance of water, thanks in large part to the ancient aqueducts. This system was refurbished during the papal reigns beginning in the 1400s. Water is still piped through these acqueducts from springs in surrounding hills. It thunders into some fountains, like the Trevi, and trickles at a modest pace into others like the Barcaccia the foot of the Spanish Steps.
The Trevi, Rome’s most famous, completed in 1762, marks the end of the Acqua Vergine, the aqueduct built by Marcus Agrippa in 19 BC. It’s an amazing structure with water surging with such force that it sounds like a waterfall. In the eighteenth century, people believed that drinking its water ensured your return to Rome. Now, the toss of a coin gives you that guarantee. I threw my first coin in 1969 and never fail to toss in another whenever I leave the city (at least when I leave the country). The proper way to toss a coin is to stand with your back to the fountain and toss it over your shoulder. Famous from the movies, the Trevi is still featured in Italian advertising for bottled water and many other products.
Beyond the Trevi, many other Roman fountains quench the thirst and tickle the imagination. The Water Nymph Fountain in Piazza della Republica near the main train station, for example, features four erotic water nymphs entwined with sea creatures. It caused such a stir when it was unveiled in 1870, that it was covered for a time. Now it’s in the center of a busy traffic circle, and you must make an effort to get a proper look.
The Tortoise Fountain hides in a little secluded piazza where you can rest and smile. The fountain shows young men nudging turtles climbing up and over the fountain’s rim.
The most common fountain is the nasone (big nose), so called because the spout resembles a large nose. Spaced roughly 200 meters apart throughout the city (a designation dating to ancient Rome) these fountains ensure that you are a short walk from fresh water wherever you go.
The utilitarian nasone are fifteen-inch metal cylinders that stand about 4 feet above the ground. The spouts extend about 10 inches from the base, and water constantly pours from the thousands of them across Rome. If you put your finger against the opening at the end of the spout to stop the water, it emerges from a hole in the bend of the spout, spewing water like a regular drinking fountain in the U.S. You can have a fresh drink, even without a cup.
People here detect differences in the taste of water from various aqueducts, and the amount of advertising for bottled water rivals the Coke/Pepsi wars in the U.S. Many people forgo bottled water altogether. Knowing which fountains are fed by which aqueducts, they take their bottles to the fountains and fill them directly. You can buy plastic carriers to hold six liter bottles (similar to the old Coke bottle six-packs). I often see people going to and fro with these contraptions. In the markets, vendors wash their veggies under the nasone, and I’ve even seen waiters from small restaurants take salad greens outside to wash them under this free, and freeflowing, water.
It’s amazing to think that this water, which is really quite delicious, is flowing through a system that originated more than 2000 years ago!

NOTE: The Trevi Fountain is the scene for my story “Feeding Frenzy” appearing in Fish Tales, Wildside Press, March 2011.