Rome

I’m back from a long weekend in Rome and it was amazing. And it makes me think about all the things that change and how we perceive everything differently with age. My first time in Rome was in 2007 and I didn’t love it. I remember walking around with V and asking each other- “Do we love it now?” and the answer was still no, even after 7 days of wandering around streets lined up with orange trees. I don’t know what it was that didn’t do it for me then- maybe the fact that it was February, the streets still flooding with tourists, maybe the fact that I’d caught a cold, maybe the fact that the city centre was outrageously overpriced and that we didn’t have that much money with us then. Or maybe it was just the expectations.

My other time in Rome was last year, just before meeting F, brokenhearted about my splitting up with V and quite disappointed with the “dating experiences” I’d had that far. And Rome proved to be wonderful then. It gave me what I needed most at that time- hope that there will be decency and beauty in the world again.

This time we celebrated F’s birthday in Rome, wandering about, very much in love, not a care in the world, stopping for canoli and coffee, taking in the city in one gasp, stepping inside a church, munching on some figs from the Campo di Fiori market, taking a break on a terrace with olives and beer, walking some more, walking in circles, the heat so ruthless that I felt like slapping myself for having packed that poorly (yet again!), I had to buy a skirt just to give myself a chance in the heat.

We stayed in Trastevere, in a classic airbnb, pretty and spartan, just what you need for a three nights getaway. The area was soaringly beautiful, but a bit loud at night with party guests from all over the world. The food was great everywhere, but no culinary masterpiece, meaning that they usually served simple dishes from traditional Roman cuisine.