Maybe it’s just spring..

Rome approached, and what I didn’t remember is how, when Authors wrote of Rome, green and lush it is. The city is lush, and air thick with the reminiscent humidity of fresh rain. I never pictured this jungle like feeling when I thought of Rome just the monuments, castles, structures that remind us of the great past. Academia, Philosophers, Saints, Gladiators, art, churches, but running all through it is the Tiber, feeding beautiful, thick, blanketing foliage reminding me that this city is still alive in the present. Real life, love, families, futures pump through Rome apart from the vast majority only in the city to examine the past.

Last night I took a late tour through the city. I ignored my overwhelming exhaustion, pain, the aching cries of my back, feet, mouth, neck, head, and heart and went again to enjoy the city from a new perspective. The Saturday night streets were swollen with tourists, tempters, shops, restaurants, artists, and crowds on almost every corner. At the end of the walking tour, we loaded a small bus to shuttle off to the Collusium lit up gloriously at night.

We went through a section of town, I don’t know what it’s called, where at least a hundred young people gather to meet and mingle. I saw no signs, flashy lights, big restaurants, artists, peddlers, sight sucking experiences, buses, just a nightlife of friends. I was astonished how it jumped out at me as if a hidden onyx was sewn in a sea of velvet. I envied the young people instantly! What did we have? The mall? Bennigan’s? T.G.I.Fridays?

What these people have looks FABULOUS, and as much as I wanted, my weary body Uberd back to the hotel. I could not sleep. My brain would not release my body from the glorious rapture of the last 2 days.I find it hard now as the train pulls into the station to give myself to this city. I feel as though I’m cheating on Michelangelo.