“Rome is the city of echoes, the city of illusions, and the city of yearning.” -Giotto di Bondone, Renaissance painter

In the spring of 2012, I voyaged to the legendary Eternal City. A city with a history that spans more than two and a half thousand years, one of the oldest continuously occupied cities in Europe. 

I touched down on a sunny afternoon, dazed with the disbelief that I was actually here. 

I joined my cousin Shelley who invited me to come along. She was running in a massive marathon throughout the city of Rome, and I got to stay with her.

I’m a history freak, so I wholly sunk into Rome’s rich ancient history; a sprawling metropolis of classical architecture, the Colosseum, the Roman Forum, the Vatican, the stunning Spanish Steps, the Trevi Fountain, fragrant food, gardens, and art. I stood in awe at it all.

While Shelley and I stayed at our hostel, we took advantage of the many amazing discounts they usually offer with tours, restaurants, and museums. Tour guides typically hang out at hostels to promote their tours or pub crawls.

There was a tour that stood out to us, it was called, “Rome After Dark.” But the tour guide stood out a little more to me. He cast his tour promotion on us, reeled me in with his charm, and I was hooked.

I was wary about entering another impossible situation with another tour guide who would leave me heavy-hearted. I had barely just recovered from the last one. However, this was a new city, a new language, a new experience, a new tour guide.

Over the next two weeks, I engulfed myself entirely in the culture, the language, the cuisine, the people, and him. I let Rome and the Roman take my hand and pull me deep into the sea of adventure and passion. I fell in love with the lifestyle and the strong Italian traditions.

I decided I’d relish this as long as I’m here.

The tour guide had a flat near the Vatican, and lucky for Shelley and me, he was able to score tour discounts to the sacred heart of the Roman Catholic Church.

I’ll never forget the tour through the Vatican. Shelley and I strolled through the Holy See, a term that refers to the city-state of the Vatican where the Pope resides.

As we got to the area of the Sistine Chapel, our guide stopped us for a warning. There were to be no phones, pictures, or loud talking as we entered the sacred space. Built in the late 1400s and painted by Michelangelo in the early 1500s, you can see every detail painted that changed the course of Western art and is regarded as one of the significant artistic accomplishments of human civilization.

Shelley and I sat on a bench and gazed up. I had an old shattered iPhone 3 that took crummy photos. I was able to sneak it out to take a few snaps. I’m proud to have saved these few pictures so that we can savor them forever.

We were approaching our final days in The City of Seven Hills. We explored, marveled, missed trains, got lost, drank, devoured, loved, laughed, learned, cried, discovered, and rediscovered.

My whirlwind romance with Roma and the Roman was coming to an end. The last night, my cousin and I stayed out all night. We knew we had a 16-hour journey home the next day, so we thought we would sleep on the plane and for the time being, we’d run the night.

We partied going pub to pub. Screaming and singing in the streets as we walked through the ancient city and back to his apartment for a two-hour shut-eye.

The next morning, we got our luggage together, and he helped guide us to our train stops to the airport. As we stepped on our last metro stop, he loaded our bags, and I embraced him. The doors shut suddenly, and I glanced at him until he blended in with the crowd before disappearing completely. 

I know deep down this is the last time I will see him. As of now, it has been the last time I’ve been back to Italy. 

My time in this city captivated me; the history, the architecture, the cobbled streets, the language, and heavenly vittles. It was a time of my life where a great deal was about to change, and this was just the unexpected undertaking that I needed to push myself.

After that trip, I gained the courage to move out of my family’s home and enroll in college full-time. I was about to begin a long academic journey that would transform my life.

Since then, nine years later, so much has changed, but every now and then, I reminisce about my rip-roaring Rome rendezvous with the city and the Roman tour guide. You know the saying, “When in Rome.” 

Wink.

SSxx