Back in Rome

The first time I was in Rome, I fell for a girl. We had met in Salzburg. She was leaving the hostel with her friends while I was just arriving. But we bonded quickly and agreed to meet again during our European adventures.

We missed our connection in Venice but luckily ran into each other on the street. Then she was a day late in Riomaggiorre.

But in Rome… all was well. We toured the enchanted city, we ate, we drank, we danced, we sang Queen songs on the way home to the rented apartment. Sitting on a Roman fountain, I told her that I would like to see her again. Anywhere. Anytime.

A year later, I visited her in Chicago. I then learned a valuable travel lesson: the people that you meet on your epic trip are not the same at home. They have jobs; they have nagging parents; they have suspicious friends. They have a busy life that is surprisingly not about finding the best gelato.

The second time I was in Rome, someone immediately robbed me. You can read all about it in Bullets, Butterflies, and Italy.

The third time I was in Rome, I happily spent eight days researching the book and devising new adventures. You can read all about it in Bullets, Butterflies, and Italy.

The fourth time I was in Rome was just a few days ago when I re-visited all the famous places mentioned in the book. And I was naively surprised by all the changes, great and small.

Oh, the ancient monuments are still all there, of course. But even they went through some alterations.

The Circus Maximus is all boarded up now with some kind of development project brewing outside its ragged starting gates. And the green grass is dead and has been replaced by much more gravel.

La Bocca della Verita was fenced off too. And they placed a velvet rope in front of the river god’s mouth. And they now force you to enter the church. You want a picture with the river god? Then you have to get some religion too.

The National Monument to Vittorio Emanuele II also had an iron gate running across its base preventing you from tackling the steps. But I suspect this obstruction was merely temporary.

Thankfully, the Coliseum experience was the same (although the tour buses now have to park further down the street). And the Pantheon was still inspiring. And the Trevi Fountain was still fun. And the Spanish Steps was still the best place to people-watch (although there were few Italian gigolos, few pub crawl touts, and no American hippie bongo players).

Piazza Navona was virtually the same, but the black market was gone. Now the square is teeming with genuine artists selling their paintings. And the Supperclub was closed altogether (with only an internet rumour that it might re-open in the future)!

I guess I just learned another valuable travel lesson: even when you’re dealing with ancient masterpieces, nothing stays the same forever.

If I wrote Bullets, Butterflies, and Italy today, I would have to severely alter the story. And I wouldn’t want to. I liked my access to the Circus Maximus, la Bocca della Verita, and the National Monument to Vittorio Emanuele II. I liked my Supperclub dinner. I mean, it’s where I met the real Antonella! And I miss the black market inside the Piazza Navona. And yes, I even miss the hippie bongo players on the Spanish Steps.

Siiiiiigh, I miss my Rome of 2005. But you really can’t go back, can you? Just like the people that you meet on your epic trip are not the same at home, the things you saw on your epic trip will also evolve and change. Sometimes for the better. But mostly….slightly worse. If only because they won’t be the way you fondly remembered them.

However, for better or worse, life is still about finding the best gelato.
 

For more posts about my return trip to Italy, check out:

https://www.johnmeyerbooks.com/back-in-siena/

https://www.johnmeyerbooks.com/back-in-amalfi/