As I write this, I’ve been in Rome for 5 days. I’m getting ready to head out for my last Roman dinner with friends, and I’ve walked from Campo dei Fiori to the Forum, from Stazione Termini to Piazza Barberini. I’ve hopped on and off buses and seen things I read about in my Latin textbooks in high school.
I got happy-drunk with good friends and made up bullshit tours in which I told someone that the antiquities we were looking at we’re an ancient sex shop. (Turns out it was actually the Forum and Temple of Venus and Rome.)
As of this morning, I’m officially harboring fantasies of running away to Europe, living in a tiny flat in Rome or Paris, walking down the street to sip my morning cappuccino and buying fresh produce daily at an outdoor stall.
Specifically, this little terraced beauty off the Campo dei Fiori looks nice.
I’m really proud of myself for traveling “all alone” to Rome, it’s been fun! Next time, I’d really like to take Brian with me, though. Because then I don’t have to take the one-arm iPhone picture to get a shot of myself.
I didn’t get over to throw my coin in the Trevi Fountain, but somehow I feel that this isn’t my last visit to Rome. I’m particularly well suited to la dolce vita.