Finito

I didn't want to like Rome.  It is dirty and shabby-looking, especially in the rain.  Of course, it's old.  Hundreds of years old.  Mind-boggling old.  But Rome charmed me with her narrow, winding streets; with her cobblestone streets.  The shops, the people, the restaurants, the churches, the history, and just the environment.

I loved waking up to the sound of hooves on the cobblestones as the men drove their carriages (for the tourists) into the piazza.  I loved hearing the men calling to one another as they set up their cafes and the vendors set up their wares.  I could have lived without the smell of cigarette smoke wafting through the window, but if you're going to be in Rome, you'll have to live with smokers.  Lots of smokers. Everywhere and all the time.  No smoke-free zones in restaurants, which is a good reason to opt for outdoor cafes.

I'm sure Rome isn't quite so engaging if one lives there all the time.  I loved watching people on their way to work, passing by these monuments, these testaments to human capabilities, passion, power, and ego.  I'm sure it's like living in New York or Chicago and walking past the things that bring tourists to the city and simply not noticing them any more.  Except, of course, there is nothing in New York or Chicago quite like the Colosseum (no, Yankee Stadium or Soldier Field isn't quite like the Colosseum).  But people trundle to and from the metro across from the Colosseum every day on their ways to or from work.  And yet, I hope, that every now and then a complacent or jaded Roman sees her city through the eyes of someone who has never been before and feels a flutter of excitement and awe.

It's been less than a week since I was there and yet it seems so distant already.  Suburban Chicago is most definitely worlds away from Rome, and it's not just the pace of our lifestyles.  I'm grateful to have been able to go and know that as the days pass, every now and then, something will flicker through my consciousness and remind me of Rome or I'll recall something I'd forgotten.

I talked to a couple of people who had been to New York and Chicago.  One loved Chicago and then said, "But New York is New York."  He said there are people who prefer to live in Milan, but he smiled when he said, "But Rome," and opened his arms wide, "is Rome!"