One of the most dangerous things of living in the most beautiful city in the world? After a while, you kind of get used to it. I won’t say that you turn blind for its beauty, or that it no longer moves you. The truth is that, time after time, it takes my breath away when I zigzag through the ancient streets and suddenly see the Pantheon rise in front of me like a stately queen, and the unique energy that now, two thousand years later, still surrounds the Colosseum, is unerringly picked up by my senses. Every single time again. But still, a kind of nonchalance creeps into your life and you just don’t visit those places so often anymore. And I guess that’s normal. So often, you hear people say that they hardly get into the picturesque city centre of their own hometown, or to that beautiful nature reserve that is actually next door.
I sometimes get asked if I don’t grow tired of it – taking people out on “the same tour” around the city
That’s why I love it when I have visitors. I sometimes get asked if I don’t grow tired of it – taking people out on “the same tour” around the city – but nothing could be further from the truth. I consider it a privilege, and it becomes even more special when I wander through the city with someone who is seeing everything for the first time. Because I know the effect Rome has. It leaves no one untouched. And that’s exactly why last week was so much fun.
I noticed that she found it almost embarrassing to admit that she had literally been moved to tears no less than twice that day
My old flat mate from Amsterdam, whom I hadn’t seen for more than six years, is currently traveling through Italy and last week she visited Rome. It was a great reunion after all those years in which we had completely lost touch. For no reason in particular, but I guess that’s just how life goes sometimes. On Wednesday evening, we were drinking prosecco and Aperol Spritz at a bar in the cosy Trastevere neighbourhood while catching up on the past six years in which she had moved to Hamburg and I had moved to Rome. Then I asked her what she had seen and done in Rome so far and I noticed that she found it almost embarrassing to admit that she had literally been moved to tears no less than twice that day: first in the Colosseum and then in the Forum Romanum. And since she is one of the most down-to-earth and cool people I know, it was confirmed once again: Rome never loses its magic, no matter how many holes there are in the roads or how many public transport strikes are organised, to the great despair of the Romans of course (including me).
I’m not much into historical dates or names of popes – I just can’t seem to remember it all – but it’s stories like these that keep people hanging on my every word
Halfway through the week, I unexpectedly received another message. One of my colleague Delegation Hosts of the Eurovision Song Contest – host of the delegation of Cyprus who stayed in the same hotel as the Italians – had spontaneously decided to visit Rome on his tour around Europe. We agreed to go for a coffee in the city centre on Friday morning around eleven. I would get him to try a real good cappuccino. That one cappuccino became two, and eventually I didn’t get home until half past ten in the evening. Because that’s just how it goes in Rome. When the sun shines so abundantly, no one’s checking the time any longer. After the coffee, we sat down on the ancient wall next to the Pantheon with the tastiest panino in town, while I enthusiastically heard myself telling once again how there used to be marble on the outer walls that had been removed in the past by order of popes who wanted to show off their power and used it to build the hundreds of churches. The original metal doors of the Pantheon were stolen for the same reason and nowadays still form the altar in the St Peter’s church. I’m not much into historical dates or names of popes – I just can’t seem to remember it all – but it’s stories like these that keep people hanging on my every word.
When I suggested him to go for this typical Roman dish, he reacted exactly as expected. A pasta with only cheese and black pepper?!
The grand final of the day took place in a typical Roman osteria with a – you guessed it – pasta cacio e pepe. When I suggested him to go for this typical Roman dish, he reacted exactly as expected. A pasta with only cheese and black pepper?! How could that possibly be special? Just wait and see, I assured him. And I hadn’t said too much. When the waiter placed the steaming plate in front of him with much bravoure, I looked at him while he took his first bite. “But this is delicious!” he exclaimed, visibly impressed. I smiled. Because just like that, I had once again accomplished my mission: sharing la dolce vita.
Rome is for everyone and from everyone
I’ve said it before. This city drives you crazy, but also moves you to tears. Rome is for everyone and from everyone. Whether you are passionate about two thousand years of history or simply about having the best pasta of your life. So, will you be coming soon too?