In preparation for my first trip abroad I must have watched Audrey Hepburn in Roman Holiday a dozen times. Italy is perhaps the foremost exotic destination which charms the American psyche – there is an intuitive notion that Rome is the most romantic city on earth. At fifteen, naïve and optimistic, I hoped for a Roman dalliance of my own, envisioning myself a young Princess Ann. I couldn't have known this then, but what I fell in love with that summer was not a handsome Italian, but something else entirely.
Arriving in Rome, welcomed by blazing mid-morning sunshine, my senses were overwhelmed by the impossibly picturesque. Dragging a bursting suitcase along behind me through the narrow, winding streets, I arrived at a small taverna on Via dei Gabrielli where I was to reside for the next four days. My room looked out over a courtyard of leafy refuge, where I returned to rest in the afternoons while the Italians took their riposare. With no time to waste, I set off to see what one can't afford to miss during a first trip to Rome. I took my time, stopping at anything and everything which caught my eye, plenty of "Ciao, Bella!'s" ringing through the air as I walked. Passing by the Trevi Fountain, making my way round the Pantheon and through the Forum, even the faux gladiators outside the Coliseum hoping for a euro, every little thing delighted me. The history of monuments within this ancient city compelled me; Western civilization emerged from its streets. I finally made it up to the Borghese Gardens to gaze out across the whole of Rome, its sweeping vista enveloping St. Peter’s Basilica, the Castel Sant'Angelo and thousands of Roman rooftops. This point of elevation bestows a gift of unspoiled beauty on any who seek it.
My first day in the eternal city drew to a close and that evening I continued to wander, solitary, without aim. I found myself amidst the lovers and the cobblestoned beauty of Piazza Navona, the spires of Sant'Agnese in Agone rising above in the shadows. Rome provides a comforting sense of permanence to residents and visitors alike; the reassurance that rise and fall are inevitable, that it has all happened before and will happen again. Perched on the edge of the Fontana dei Quattro Fiumi, gelato in hand, I watched as the red-gold sunset gave way to an inky cobalt that swept across the sky, and one by one, glimmering stars emerged, dotting the heavens. I was filled with an awe I have rarely felt in my life, a feeling with which I fell in love.
