Travels And Reflection A blog of my journeys and the lessons I've learned.

The moon shone incredibly bright outside the hotel window as Dulce and I sat, lights out, watching Italian MTV and munching on triscuits with gournay cheese. The bottle of wine we bought earlier, from a wine store run by a charming old couple, was already history and we, instead, settled for cans of cold soda from the mini-bar (which were replaced with cans of the same brand we bought outside, of course). That was our boringly pathetic dinner on our last night in Rome, and I still lovingly remember each and every detail of what transpired that day.

I remember the incredibly fascinating antiquity. Dulce and I had spent the whole day commuting from one architectural treasure to another - taking the bus or walking long distances. The stuff we studied in school came to life that sunny Roman day. Temples, churches, fountains - all were mesmerizing. We joked around in the Vatican, quietly commenting on how terribly exhausting it must have been to do the marble cutting-list.

I remember our first authentic gelato. Those generous scoops of pitaschio-flavored goodness in hand-rolled sugar wafer cones cooled us as we sat on the Spanish Steps, haplessly preventing drops from falling on our clothes; we had somehow forgotten to ask for napkins. The image of Dulce's immaculately white blouse spattered with light green gelato stains still is vivid in my mind like it was yesterday.

I remember the bags. Down the street from our hotel was a small leather goods shop that made and sold their own bags; it was, proudly, Dulce's secret find and she instantly fell in love with the hand-tooled suede shoulder bags which were dyed in beautiful spring and autumn colors.

I remember us, after packing that night, despite the exhausting day, and unforgivably drunk, kissing passionately on the cold tiled hotel room floor. We, later, between sips of cold soda, told each other hopeful stories as we gazed at the moon, bathing in the invisible magic of its light.