Rome. The sound of hand gestures by Italians walking by, I can sense their conversation, yet I don’t speak a word. I can hear the hissing and sputtering of a coffee machine at my local silver-decked cafe and the satisfying screech of the blade that cuts me slivers of cheese and ham from the Deli next door. I hear church bells always calling the faithful. The through-my-shoes feeling of the flagstones at the Forum is history whispering the boots of ancient soldiers and makes my heart flip and smile that I’m walking where they walked! Heavy-stoned arches, standing still, hang their shadows over me. Birds fly around the Coliseum dipping and diving through broken eyelets, a memory from a movie makes me gawk and wonder as I look at it with his eyes. Cobblestones everywhere challenge my feet. Wherever I walk I smell fresh coffee or fresh bread, Deli meats, cheeses and Bakery cakes. I breathe the scent of leather in every shoe shop. Gelato tastes like no other ice-cream, rich, round, redolent. I have Pistachio with a side-by-side tang of Lemon. I walk around Rome with shining eyes, everything looks like Italy should; taupe, terracotta and umber shining in the sun; cafés down side-streets and on the piazza, a sense of style permeates everything. The Vatican part thrills and part appals me, is it right for a church to own so much? But the art, oh the art is sublime: Raphael, Botticelli and the Sistine Chapel, what a surprise – so small, so high, my neck aches as I gaze upwards squinting in the poor light. The guards constantly shhhhh at the crowds inside and cameras snap despite the NO notices. Rome: a city for the romantic amongst us.
Categories: Just Travels