One of the side effects of being a travel writer is that sometimes you wake up and forget where you are, or more likely, what time zone you’re in. Some days you wake up and you’re just too overwhelmed by the sights and the sounds of a new place that it’s almost hard to take it all in. That’s Rome.
It’s been 24 hours in Rome and I’m already in love with the Eternal City.
We had dinner last night in the Jewish Ghetto. A man walked with a violin playing songs I used to sing as a young girl in Sunday school. That’s Rome.
After dinner we went to the Spanish Steps and (full of gumption, thanks to the bottles of wine we consumed) we ran to the top. There was a lovely wine bar at the top of the Spanish Steps, hidden behind tresses of ivy and wildflowers. We were seated for another glass of wine and the waiter poured himself a glass, lifted a glass and said “Salud” into the air to the crowd. That’s Rome.
We stumbled home and crashed into bed. Eleven hours later it’s noon in Rome – I’m over the jetlag and now battling a headache. Off to meet MFTM for some pizza before taking in the Colosseum, Forum and the Pantheon.
