I could talk about the “good” of Rome but if you want the warm fuzzies, I’d tell you to go read a tour book. It will drone on about the Coliseum, Forum, Vatican, the Spanish Steps, the Pantheon, gelato, and wine. There are also individuals who will fill your head about all that is beautiful and romantic about Rome. They will tell you to do as the Romans do and school you on how to dress and eat. They will claim they can offer you the “inside scoop” on all that is Roman. Let me tell you, it’s crap. If an individual claims they have an inside scoop on a city that’s over two thousand years old, don’t listen and be sure to hold on to your pocket book. As for doing as the Romans do, what does that mean anyway?
Don’t let me mislead you. The archeological sites and history are magnificent, breathtaking-must-sees but as for telling you about them yet again, I won’t. Haven’t we heard of all the wonders of The Eternal City since grade school? The History Channel offers a better view and tour than we can ever get on foot and if I hear AQUADUCT one more time…
There are some that will tell you only the bad about Rome. Don’t listen. They are not adventurers. These (the bad) are the tourists who wear ugly white walking sneakers and yell at the locals thinking they can break the language barrier with volume. These are probably the same people who won’t eat anything unless it’s deep-fried.
I vow to tell you the ugly - the ugly truth that is. Let me begin by dispelling a few big lies:
1. You don’t need to know Italian. “They” know enough English for you to get by.
This is crap. My limited Italian got me stuck on a bus complete with a cranky and extremely vocal bus driver. After the agonizing trip, I thought, “Okay Melanie, note to self. Though a majority are kind, not all Romans are helpful, not all are charmed by tourists’ efforts to butcher their language, and some just down right don’t like us being there.” Well, imagine that.
2. Romans are snazzy dressers.
Bah! Romans are just like us - a mixture of everything. I admit I saw more tailored suits than in average America, and I must say the women really know how to walk in heels. I witnessed a local woman navigate an ancient cobblestone piazza/square in strappy gold stilettos with the grace of an angel. It was a stunning sight. But just like home, it matters not which neighborhood one ventures into, because there will always be the camel toes, muffin tops, too much weight squishing into groaning flip-flops, and pant seams begging for mercy.
The ugly truth is this. Rome is anything and everything you want it to be. My (unsolicited) advice is to find what you like then do it again and again. Vacations are short. Rome is huge. See the must-sees, find whatever it is you like to do, then rinse and repeat. Do not worry about what you’re missing. Just enjoy.
Since this was not my first visit to Rome I had six days to explore and people watch. I was able to spend four hours imagining and exploring ancient ruins of Palintino/Palintine Hill where most people whiz through in an hour, and would have stayed longer but a volunteer whisked me out just as I was about to enter yet another underground tunnel. “It was closing time,” she said in Italian.
I meandered the Tivere/Tiber River. Along the way I stopped at a sandwich cart and harassed the couple inside with my not-so-stellar Italian skills. I managed a prosciutto sandwich, a cafe/espresso, a granita/fruit slushie and a bottle of water. I got it VIA, which I guess meant TO GO. I plopped myself onto what the locals call the ugliest bridge on the Tiber (though pretty by my standards) picnicked, and watched the people pass and the dirty river move below. I enjoyed a refreshing breeze until it wafted some nearby dog poo in my direction just before I took a huge bite.
I mastered the Metro/subway system. I’m proud of that one but the taxis and shuttles were faster and more adventurous. Need I explain Roman driving? One driver pulled over and since the traffic was careening by the driver’s side, I opted for the rear passenger’s door. I began my slide into the far side of the leather seat and looked up in time to see the driver taking a long shameless look up my skirt. Like an action scene in a movie, the world seemed to slow down. I watched his face, as my knees parted wider, wider, still wider. Suddenly back to real time, my butt scooted across the seat and just as my knees returned to their lady-like position, he turned his head and my husband got in and shut the door. I just giggled.
So go. Enjoy Rome and once you see the must-sees, take the tour books with a grain of salt, but DO do as the Romans do and that means, ANYTHING YOU WANT!
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Melanie Gilbert is a technical writer and a contributor to Zoiks! Online.
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