Rome, IT
Stormy views from the Spanish Steps.
Rome—the capital city of Italy—is a cobblestone walkway through history, filled with culture and beauty and carbs of all varieties. It had been four years now since my last European excursion, and my sister’s current home address presented an indubitable opportunity for a refresh.
Travel is a favorite activity of mine, and when given the chance, I jump. Excited by the thought of yet another stamp is my passport, I sojourned in Roma, Italia from Oct. 28 to Nov. 4 in the neighborhood of Prati, the place my sister has called home for the past two months. As one who knows no Italian, the struggle came with staying in the least touristy area of the city. Don’t get me wrong, there is no better way to experience a place—neglect of the humiliation that accompanies group tours and double-decker buses. However, there had to come acceptance of eye rolls and foreign side conversations from locals, as we are in fact stupid Americans.
My sister’s previous months exploring the landscapes provided an advantage: I was able to experience Rome the way she did—less embarrassment than normally comes with being a tourist. However, her daily love letters to the Aperol Spritz proved to be a letdown, as I soon found they are comparable to bitter orange juice. I did however find my affinity for the Hugo Spritz.
With lots of ground to cover, the trip started in the Trevi district, home to the famous Trevi Fountain—an 18th century architectural wonder made of Carerra marble. With hopes of one day coming back to the city, a storm of coins was thrown to the water, following legend that a one-coin throw guarantees a return to Rome. Legend says throwing two coins ensures a love affair with an attractive Italian, and three means marriage to the one you meet: do with that what you will.
The work of Nicola Salvi: 85 feet of handcrafted art in Carerra marble.
Near the fountain stands the Pantheon, the best-preserved monument from ancient Rome—drawing inspiration from Greek and Roman architectural styles. Like most churches in the city, its appearance drew crowds of awestruck visitors, taken with its high ceilings and stunning architecture; inside, time stands still.
The forepart of The Pantheon.
Next, we paid a visit to Papa Francis, residing in the smallest country in the world, Vatican City. Every Sunday, he appears for a general audience, reciting The Angelus Prayer. As we stood in silence and listened to a prayer that we could not understand, it was amazing to see the love everyone had for the man in the far-away window. Saint Peters Square is a marvel in itself, completely enclosed and untouched by time. The Sistine Chapel and Saint Peter’s Basillica boast floor-to-ceiling frescoes and other stunning artwork, making you question how their buildings could be so beautiful while ours so bleak.
Crowds gathered in anticipation of the Pope’s weekly appearance.
Though much of the trip was spend reminiscing on ancient history, Celio was unmatched in its historic quality. Stepping off the metro at Colosseo was truly that of a time capsule, the entire street completely untarnished. A place of many whisper tours, most of the struggle came from maneuvering through the masses, resisting getting caught behind a walking flag. However, seeing the ruins of the Roman Forum and the Colosseum made the trip worthwhile.
Just steps off the train to the ancient Roman Forum.
Just a mile down the road from our hotel, across what my sister so lovingly dubbed “poopie bridge,” was Piazza del Popolo, where I found the seemingly only place in Rome to serve iced coffee. The square and surrounding streets were home to endless cafes and shops, enough to occupy a day. This is the place where I mastered my pronunciation of “grazie,” making many ridiculous purchases in tourist shops to appease my love for ugly clothes and cheesy knick-knacks. However, amid the day’s trudge was a hill of 1,000 stairs leading to Villa Borghese, one of Rome’s landscape gardens. Think Central Park, but European. A lovely change from the miles of cobblestone and crowds, the park hosted boating ponds, trails and greenspaces, and a multitude of pigeons, whom I grew quite fond of during our stay.
Primo cappuccino freddo.
The 36 miles we walked during our seven-day adventure encompassed the ins and outs of the beautiful city. Visiting a place with so much history puts into perspective how much is often forgotten. It’s a refreshing thought to think that in other places, people care enough to preserve their history; to learn about it, to share about it. I feel that here, we find pride in new things—modern everything. Not to say there can’t be pride in progress, but I find we lack the same enthusiasm for the old. Arriving back home with 100 photos and a severe backache, it’s like a different world, and we’re only a plane ride away.
The trip was one of many miles, many stairs, and many hot coffees—and I wouldn’t change a thing. Ciao bella.
Villa Borghese Pond.
