I’ve decided I don’t much like Rome in the summertime. I guess it’s not really summer yet but it’s hot, hot hot. Tourists following those dreaded flags walk en’ mass, blocking little cobbled lanes and I’m glad I’m not one of them.
Eventually, I settled for an afternoon spritz, just to catch my breath.
It’s a sad state of affairs when you’ve got a few hours to waste in Rome and you don’t want to be a tourist. I walked my weary legs of yesterday after arriving around midday.
Trevi Fountain, Pantheon, Piazza Della Republica, Santa Maria degli Angeli (Maria’s church of the Angel I guess), a look over the walls into the Roman Forum and, at dusk, a glimpse of the Colosseum to name a few. A coffee standing at the bar in La Casa Del Caffe and I was done. Done and dusted.
I slept in Hotel Giorgina, sounds pretty I know, but it was old, plain and definitely in need of some love. But the room was clean and I was thankful for a bed, clean and comfortable.
So here I am this morning, biding time til my train leaves for Fiumicino, trying to block out sounds of cars, buses, horns and Italian gibberish. My ‘dolce’ looks more like tile than an apple cake and my coffee, small, long gone.
I’m pondering the past weeks, here in Bella Italia. Amazing weeks, Italian – God weeks that I’m still trying to digest. He really is everywhere and even in my rushing yesterday he quietly came to whisper in my ear again. I see you, I’m in this.
Grateful for time to write, this book, almost done, and I can feel his hand leading me to uncharted waters. This time safer ones and I’m ready to go, not only home, but to where he leads next.