The trains weren't long enough for the naps I wanted to take. The scioperos - those strikes from hell - had finally gotten on my nerves. When I found myself mentally moaning, "Don't you people know that some of us have stuff to DO!" I at first thought that the magic of Rome - its power to grab my heart and make it fall in love with things like light on badly positioned buildings and potent espresso and funkily dressed Europeans - had slipped away. I was rushing through. I didn't care about the light on the building. I didn't see the light. To heck with the pink building. I cared about doing my latest newspaper assignment. What did that teacher just mumble? Are you making fun of me for mispronouncing that? Stress came to visit me with a vengeance. Oh joy.
Life is life. And in the immortal words of the person who pep-talked me into coming here, Life Is Hard. It doesn't matter what continent you transplant yourself to. You can be just as stressed out overlooking 18th Street or GMU's lawschool as you can be staring out of the 4th floor onto Piazza Navona wonder what the heck the teacher just mumbled in Italian. It's a "duh" thing to say. But I think it's one that we all - or at least I - have to learn over and over again. That beautiful, incredibly hard lesson that life is determined by how you approach it - with a soul full of God's grace, or a mind full of your own anxieties and fears.
I knew before I left that there'd come a time when I would get a chance to learn it all over again. And thank God that it came. Because at the end of this hellacious month, I can say with great joy and excitement (again), that . . . .
This is my city.
And this is me looking cheesy and blocking the best part of it:
This is how you feel on top of the heart of the Church:
And I can attribute a big part of rediscovering Rome to the visit of my dear Slovakian friend Lucia. She came just as real Fall weather arrived in the city, with colored leaves and crisp autumn air. We took walks by the bridges:
We did things like the Spanish Steps at night:
We splurged on amazing roasted chestnuts that were so expensive, they deserved a picture before their demise!
We caught Pope Benedict XVI at Vespers the vigil before the First Sunday of Advent (divine music, btw):
And since we scored awesome seats, we had a perfect view of those amazing arching ceilings:
We looked cheerful even after climbing 30,000 steps to get to the top of St. Peter's:
And we caught the beauty that is St. Peter's cupola at twilight (right up there with the Eiffel Tower as the most romantic place at night on earth):
One of the giants on top of St. Peter's. This is what I call a man:
And this is what I call the incredible photography skills of Lucia:
3 comments:
I'm so glad that you've rediscovered the Beauty that is Rome. And I'm so jealous that it's your city now. But jealous in a good way.
And Piazza di Spagna at night has got to be one of my favorite Roman experiences. That and Piazza Navona at night. Heck, pretty much any place in Rome at night.
See you soon!!!
Ciao bella!
:)
WoW! You look so beautiful - love the outfit and boots! So chic! ;)
I come to admire things like that as I sit here frump-a-licious in James' pj pants and a shirt that won't cover my belly, lol!
That's so funny about the chestnuts - they *are* amazing, and I was eating them this exact same time very possibly same day, 4yrs ago right in front of the spainish steps with Kateri the night before flying back home.
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