Picture it. Sicily. No, I mean, Rome. 2017.
No, I'm not Sophia Patrillo, but I certainly felt like Audrey Hepburn on her Roman Holiday, as I entered into mine. I had just stepped off the bus and into my convent, turned luxury hotel, Donna Camilla Savelli, in the quaint neighborhood of Travestere. After unpacking and breathing in the rich aromas of Rome, I decided to be carefree and let my heart take me where it would. I had heard about a service that locals used called Scooterino. It was similar to shared ride services, but instead of being picked up by a car, a Vespa would arrive. The only catch--most drivers only spoke Italian.
The voice came from the other side of the street. Was this for real? I looked across the street and there was my ride and ready to show me the city for the next couple of hours. My dress flew up towards my upper thigh and I began to channel my Under the Tuscan Sun moment. I felt desirable and carefree--as if I could leave my world behind. And the sense that anything was possible began to overtake me.
Simple. But unquestionably beautiful. The slower pace of Travestere. The natural wonder of the Pantheon. The unwavering Colosseum and the romantic and peaceful serenity in the Spanish Steps. And of course, the possibility found in the Trevi.
With every turn, beauty followed us with a haunting fascination.
But it wasn't until we turned a corner and saw the blazing fire simmering in hues of purple, blue, and oranges, that I was painfully and overwhelmingly in love. We stopped and lingered and we both fell in love with Rome all over again.
As the sun started to set,my time on the Vespa was coming to a close. I sipped on my glass of red vino and bathed in the romance of la dolce far niente.
Rome. Forever--my heart.
*Picture from Roman Holiday.*