When (I Was) in Rome

I wrote this post on my way to Paris earlier this morning, but before we move on to that lovely - albeit rainy - city, I must, must, must tell you that I loved Rome. Forgetting the incident of the deceptively expensive coffee and pastry that I ordered for breakfast this morning at a local cafe, I absoluuutely loved it. I will graciously forgive Rome its single indescretion, since it is very clear to me (though it was less clear at the time) that the surprisingly price of my simple meal was only the city's most transparent way of expressing its sadness and frustration at my parting. Really, Rome, I get it. You don't need to explain yourself to me. But maybe give me a little warning next time. I can arm you with ancient tissues from an ancient bath house - and I can arm myself with extra euros.

In my 9 days in the eternal city, I saw many of the sights: the Coloseum, the Pantheon, the Cistine Chapel (no St. Peter's - it closed early on Christmas Eve, the nerve), the Roman Forum, the Arch of Constantine, Trajan's Column (the real one *and* the replica), the Spanish Steps, the opera by the Spanish Steps (best accidental find), the Villa Borghese, the Jewish Ghetto and museum, the Trevi Fountain, the Christmas market in Piazza Navona (which was surprisingly inferior to London's markets: London's were more artisan-y, while Navona's sold mostly mass produced Christmas tree ornaments). I window-shopped a ton, though truly shopped very little. I probably tried on half of the brown leather boots in the city of Rome, however. I was seriously tempted on multiple occasions, but the mental image of my small hiking backpack that had thus far managed - quite miraculously - to meet both Ryanair and Easyjet hand luggage policies held me back. (Think I made the wrong decision? Me too. But there's always Paris...)

Rome is beautiful for its enchanting mix of old and new. Ancient ruins rise up out of the ground in front of your metro stop, and modern businesses find their homes in centuries-old buildings. The faded colors of the plaster facades make for a charming - and charmed - backdrop to any photo, where in other cities such signs of age might cause one to characterize the place as derelict. The sunsets there are golden, adding to the general sense of majesty.

Rome is actually much smaller than I'd thought originally. I can't decide whether the map drawers needed more practice; if they were simply so proud of their city that they drew it as it seemed through their love-drunk eyes; or whether my map was part of a general map scheme against tourists to make us buy more metro tickets. Either way, on my last day I managed to walk by and through most of the sites my friend and I had toured throughout the week, and I still made it back to the hostel in time for the advertized pizza and pasta "party." The great capitol of the ancient empire felt homier that day.

Cue the breakfast scene from this morning, draw in a flight and a bit of waiting time, and fast forward to now. 

I. Am. In. Paris. (With my Bubbe!)

And you will 'ave to 'ear about eet later - because I am le tired and must go to sleep.

Bon nuit :)