Capuccino at the Hotel Homs
It started with my first cup of coffee. The foam on my latte was perfectly placed on top of the steaming brown cup of brewed beans. The barista finished off my much-needed caffeine fix with a heart in the center of the cup and asked me for me 2 euros.
I wasn’t in Rome for one hour and already love was being thrown in my face, and it was in my coffee – the only thing I needed to turn me from sleepless psycho woman to life of the party.
But surprisingly, Rome took a turn for the interesting…
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