In which there is touristy Rome (Part I).

In mid-June, I had the great, semi-spontaneous pleasure of going on a grand adventure with that most recently wedded of brothers of mine. He flew into Hamburg at the crack of dawn on a Thursday and we were back at the airport again at the very next crack of dawn, where we hopped on a plane and flew our way south through a beautiful, clear morning. The destination was Rome, where a wild and wonderful group of Bostonians was to make music with other wild and wonderful musicians all weekend long. The scenery out that tiny airtight window was delicious.

Far more delicious indeed than the scenery inside the makeshift bus terminal-not-terminal where we had to wait in line for an hour and a half or so, watching two buses fill up and leave before we could get on one ourselves that would take us into the city. This wasn't really a problem as we weren't in any rush, but we were both sleepy and not particularly in the mood to wait in a pushing, agitated crowd in a parking lot. The bus driver seemed to share this sentiment, as captured from the first-row seat after the successful board-the-bus attempt number 3.

Once we finally got to Termini and walked our way through the hot hot sun to our residing place for the next few nights, I was pretty out-juiced and ended up sleeping for the next few hours. Somewhat recharged but still in no mood for socializing, we siblings gelatoed and went our separate ways -- one to band happenings and one to sitting in parks and reliving ancient Roman wanderings of 2006, the year of my first and last visit to this most popular of tourist destinations.

City map as a safety guard, I started walking, wandering, quietly walzing down old, old streets with familiar long shutters, golden glow crescendo-ing on old bricks and stones as the day softly dwindled.

One wonderful thing about this city, particularly and most definitely in the summer months, is its abundance of old water fountains, some ornate and some not, but all oozing with drinkable freshness.

It's also not in every city that you can be strolling down a normal, everyday street and catch a glimpse of an ancient colosseum bathed in evening light at the other end.

Or where ruins of civilizations of long, long ago coexist with the ever-changing world as we know it today, caught like a stationary figure amidst a crowd in motion in a photograph. It's really a mind-blowing juxtaposition to see all the eras crammed together like they are, some crumbling but still there and certainly still an integral, even vital part of the city.

With the little daylight remaining, I decided to wander towards the Trevi fountain, where I'd spent a good deal of time sitting with my travel buddies and eating gelato and fresh coconut seven years before. Doubts started developing when I realized I could hear the fountain before it even came into view and knew that it was not the gentle burble blurble of the water, but rather the near-roaring babble blabble of the crowd. I thought it would be safe from such swarms at 10:30 p.m. or so, but this proved to be a naive assumption. People, everywhere people. Talking, laughing, entrenched in deep conversation, flirting, flinging flourescent glowy things up in the air, photoing, pushing, breathing, being. I felt torn between my full-circle content of being there again and my desire to get away from the crowd, which had me heading to the nearest metro station pretty quickly.

I had felt pretty safe the whole evening, though I was approached by three well-dressed older men in different places all asking me for directions and then quickly asking more personal questions about what I was doing, where I was staying -- the scam of the evening I suppose. My confidence was shaken as the crowd-shock sucked out the rest of my energy, I suddenly felt very aware of being alone (and grateful for that rape-aggression defense course I took senior year -- thanks, Smith!) and wanted to be back at the hostel in my private room behind a closed door as soon as possible.

A truly lovely, peaceful evening with a somewhat stressful but thankfully harm-free end. Later I was also glad to have had this time in the city itself, as the rest of the Roman adventure ended up playing out (and loudly) far, far away from any and all tourist attractions. Oh, the fun to be had in the coming days!