Roman Holiday

I had a glorified layover in Rome yesterday, and it was incredible.

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I was afraid of Rome – everyone I talked to said it’s awful in the summer, and the pickpockets are terrible, and it’s generally an unbearable place in July. (”Everyone there is crazy right now,” according to a Roman I met in Prague.)

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But aside from the heat, which was real, none of the other warnings were borne out. I walked through the city all day long because I just couldn’t stop gawking at the scale of the architecture. 

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I tried to capture what it’s like to round the corner onto the Piazza Venezia and to be confronted with the Museo Sacrario delle Bandiere, but pictures can’t do it justice. 

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The Foro Romano, 

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the Pantheon, 

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even the passeggiata on the Via del Corso (even because I arrived late and missed all the best cruising/preening),

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and the summer river fest I stumbled into while checking out the Trastevere neighborhood were all so intoxicating that I didn’t care that I had sweated through everything and gained new blisters from the cobblestones.

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Ciao, bella.