Rome, Oh Rome

I fully admit that Rome's appeal for me came from 1950s romance movies and a desire to see Ancient Roman Ruins. (It's important that those three words are capitalized.) Modern-day Rome was the setting, but my romanticized experiences had written the plot, the music, and the credits. And true to form, expectations drove the story, until reality couldn't conform to expectations. Here, as they say, is where the magic happened.

A couple of friends of mine travel to amazing and distant places on a whim all the time. It's become one of my joys to read their posts on social media as they take us along on their journeys. Recently, one of them wrote a lovely piece about how the difficulties they faced on their trip to Antarctica this month never really affected them because they'd gone on that trip as they did all others: with minimal expectations. "To go" defined the level of their expectations, so anything that happened was supposed to happen. It was part of the adventure.

Most of my life, I've tried to live by that credo. When things go wrong, it's not a bug, it's a feature. It's part of the adventure. It's a grand story to tell later while we're sitting around the kitchen table drinking wine and becoming family. One of my favorite quotes is: Life is what happens while you're busy making plans. 

Until this trip, however, I didn't realize how many expectations I brought with me. Naples, for example, was Naples. It didn't change because I was there, become something nefarious and awful because I arrived in its train station. Naples is as it's always been, and because I came to Italy imagining it all to be as I experienced it once or saw in a few movies, my expectations ruined my new experiences. 

Rome, on the other hand... oh Rome. 

There is something extraordinarily beautiful and intoxicating about the city of Rome. For the last few days I've been trying to work out what about the city gave me such joy. Part of it, I'm sure, was the juxtaposition between Naples and Rome. The garbage found throughout Naples didn't exist in Rome. In fact, as large cities go, Rome was relatively clear of debris (thought still a bit grimy, it is winter and a large city, after all). 

But most of it was Rome herself. There was a grace and elegance to the city and her casual antiquities. Turning a corner - any corner - would reveal another ancient wall or cathedral or relic of times long since passed. From the corner of my eye, I'd see something glisten in the sun, turn, and there would be a giant monument to some general of old in a small square leading to goodness knows where. 

In an earlier blog post, I mentioned being frustrated with how blasé my friend Isaac was about all of the amazing history in his city of Barcelona. To me, every wall, every gutter, every rooftop created before Columbus stumbled on the Americas meant something. Then I went to Pompeii and Herculaneum.

They are history. Their role is to teach us what was, not what is, because there is no "is" for those places. They died 2000 years ago, and those cities' role is to give us a window into another time.

Rome, however, shows us mounds of history while continuing to live and breathe. Like Barcelona, a city has continued amid and around the history it presents, but unlike Barcelona, a Roman colony, this is where the history of Rome began. And where she has grown, shifted, changed, and become something new and wonderful while capitalizing on her past without minimizing it.

The challenge in Rome became, for me at least, to not become as blasé about the history I came across as Isaac was about Barcelona's. 

Walking has become my de facto method for sussing out a city on this trip. I would pick a direction, walk until I found something interesting, stop and spend time there, pick another direction, and continue on. In Rome, there was no "bad direction" to pick. 

My first day in Rome, I walked out of my hostel and turned north. Within five blocks, I found a cathedral built in the 600s in the remains of a grand bathhouse built some 700 years prior. (Here's where I'm going to point out that I'm throwing around hundreds in a historical context for buildings when my country's current government - the longest running democratic government in history - isn't even 250 years old. This must be what it's like to be a millionaire with a few 20s in your pocket.)

From that cathedral, I found several others, each with a distant and wonderful story to tell. I walked into each one in a state of awe, that first day. I blessed myself and my rosaries, and I took a million pictures, and I understood how the Christian church stood for so long. When their very buildings are built in history on nearly every corner, steeped in traditions not even their own, and they speak with the authority of their god, one must stop and listen. One must give credence to the words spoken. 

As I wandered along the narrow stone roads, I came across Trevi Fountain, the Maker of Wishes. It is, as one tourist article reminded me, the only fountain in Rome bestowed with the ability to make your wishes come true. Tossing a coin in any other fountain merely makes the city a bit richer, while Trevi... ah Trevi Fountain brings true love a la Maggie McNamara in Three Coins in a Fountain. It brings your dearest wish to you, be it love, career, or simply joy, when you throw a coin into it with your right hand over your left shoulder. It was Roman iconography to me, even packed to the gills with people.

And on my day went. Direction picked, walk, stop and take a million pictures. Rinse, repeat.

Until I glanced up and saw the Colosseum. And stone pillars coming from a deep hole in the ground. And ... and ... and ...

Click. Click. Click. 

Yeah, I took a lot of pictures. 

The people wandered past, smiling and nodding as we caught one another's eyes. They were of all sizes, shapes, ages, and races. Languages and accents enlivened every street corner. Buskers, hustlers, tourists, and locals alike brought color to the streets I walked down. Not only did this city provide history. She brought to her streets a crossroads of our world today just as she had 1500 years ago. Rome continues to bring people together to enrich society.

This was Day 1, people. I'd stumbled onto a trove of joy unending and was completely lost on how to even respond or react. My heart raced, my face flushed, and I'm fairly certain my pupils dilated. I was unquestioningly, unequivocally, in love with this city.