The city that ambushes you.
We arrived at Fiumicino on a Friday evening, took the Leonardo Express into Termini, and by 8pm were sitting at a corner table in Trastevere with a carafe of house red, a plate of cacio e pepe, and no particular plan. Rome doesn't need a plan. Rome has plans for you.
The next morning we walked from the hotel near Campo de' Fiori across to the Colosseum before the crowds arrived. The Forum Romanum in the early morning light, scaffolding, ancient stone, stray cats, one lone archaeologist, was one of those moments that travel writers either overstate or underprepare you for. We were underprepared.
"We stood on the Palatine Hill at golden hour watching the Forum turn amber below us. Nobody spoke for about five minutes. That's either the most or least romantic thing that's ever happened to any of us, depending on who you ask."
We had the best gelato of our lives at Fatamorgana, walked across the Tiber at midnight, and took the milk train back to the airport on Sunday morning. Rome goes fast. It always makes you promise to come back slower.
