24 Hours in Rome

What can you possibly do in Rome if you only have 24 hours?

That was all the time I’d given myself there during a quickie trip to Italy in 2015. 

I arrived in the Eternal City around noon on a Wednesday, and was booked on the 11:50 a.m. Frecciarossa to Florence the next day.

I’d arranged a night’s layover in Rome really as a buffer for jet lag; it would be my first solo trip abroad after becoming a mom – an older mom, at that – and my first visit to Italy in eight years. I assumed I would barely be able to take in the sights, much less enjoy them, on a few hours of airplane sleep. Plus, I was giving short shrift to Rome because I'd told myself the real trip would begin after I reached Florence. When my 24 hours in Rome were up, I would be heading to the city where I once lived to retrace my steps. There I would meet up with friends and begin the real work of immersing myself once again in Italy, the objective of a trip I dubbed the Nostalgia Package Tour. I wanted to relive the days when I worked as a teacher in Florence, when I fell in love in Florence (with the city and a man). I wanted to practice my heavily Florentine-accented Italian.

Rome was just a quick detour. Or was it?

Well, it was, until I see a Roman man walking into a café near the Campidoglio. He’s carrying a motorcycle helmet and wearing a tan, fisherman’s vest, popular among men in Italy. It’s clear from the first second, the way he walks in, the way he surveys the bar and the way he nods at the bartender, that he’s a regular. As I watch, he exchanges one look with the barista that wordlessly conveys, “Do you see what I’m saying?” and “Can you believe that?” Where both parties know exactly what “that” refers to. 

The barman, for his part, shoots him a glance that says, “Where have you been?” and “Can you believe the day we’re having?” All without uttering a word, but aided by a few helpful Italian hand gestures, the jutting out of the chin, and an “O!” or two. Part theater, part afternoon chronicle.

Then I stroll into some minor piazza where there’s a glorious breeze and a man selling books from a bancarella. Behind me as I browse the book selection, a father kicks around a soccer ball with his young son. I walk a few blocks and peer in the window of one of Italy’s largest bookstore chains, drinking in the book titles and calculating and recalculating how many I can reasonably fit into my suitcase.

That evening, I visit a friend for dinner, and in the taxi on the way back to the hotel, the older driver is listening to the Juventus game. At one point, La Juve scores, and I look up to see the driver staring at me in the rear view mirror as he pumps his fist. Clearly, he thinks this is a moment we should share. “Forza Juve,” I say, smiling, almost gratefully. Thank you, Italy, for being Italy.

The next morning, I dash out to re-introduce myself to as many important sights as I can walk to. Approaching the Campo dei Fiori only to find vendors setting up the morning produce and flower market, I feel as though I am walking onto a film set labeled, “Rome, morning.” It would appear no one’s told every other visitor to Rome that this is the thing to do – an early morning walk through the city’s best squares. It is largely just me and the vendors and a few stray figures sailing by on bikes.

Now imagine all of these episodes happening within 24 hours, which, as it turned out, was plenty of time. 

You can do so much even if all you do is walk and look, if your main activity is savoring the tiny moments. If the kind of trip you’re pursuing has little to do with itineraries. A different brand of tourism. I suppose you could call it cultural tourism or maybe personal tourism. 

What I’m calling nostalgia tourism – for when your trip is really a long journey back. 

When you’ve already toured the city, and you’re coming back really just to tour your memories (against an enchanted backdrop), and find out how they make you feel now. Rome is the perfect city for this kind of trip.

(Versions of this story have appeared in various places on this blog, and other venues)