Rome: One City, Two Trips, a Whole Lot of Magic

I have so many childhood memories of playing outside in the creek behind my house for hours on end, mesmerized by the simplest things. The veins on the back of a crunchy orange leaf in the fall. A single twig I'd toss into the creek and watch intently as it knocked against rocks, paused for a second, and then continued downstream to its eventual resting place in a pool at the bottom. A rope tied to a tree, with a knot at the bottom for standing and swinging, could entertain us for hours. A single Frisbee or baseball or piece of chalk was all we needed to keep a group of friends happily playing all day.

But it's just not that easy anymore as an adult. Those flickers of magic. Those moments of pure, unadulterated joy without guilt. They're much harder to come by.

And this is why I travel.

Travel opens up a world of firsts, possibilities, and experiences we haven't had yet. It brings back the magic. It creates room for those moments we want to measure our lives by.

And Rome...well, Rome was full of them.

Rome is a place that restores your sense of wonder.

Rome was moment after moment of amazement, of ordinary things and ordinary moments made extraordinary. The take-my-breath-away feeling had never been stronger for me. I enjoyed Rome so much that after spending a week there with my daughters in the summer of 2025, I turned right back around three weeks later and returned for another four days with my partner.

This is the story of my immediate captivation with the Eternal City.

Day One — Catching My Breath

It's no secret by now that I love a big, noisy, lived-in city. The energy. The rush. The people. The history. The walking in the footsteps. The smells. The sounds. The food. The diversity. The culture. The chaos. Rome has that. Some people might say too much of it. Not me.

Per usual, my daughters and I arrived in Rome mid-morning after a direct flight from the U.S. and immediately headed to our hotel—the W—to drop off our bags, freshen up, and head out for a little get-to-know-the-place walk while our jet lag kicked in.

In Rome, your casual "get-to-know-the-place" stroll isn't just going to get you acquainted with the local coffee shops and cafés or help you figure out where the nearest pharmacy or women's clothing store is. Our casual arrival-day stroll in Rome took us to probably the most famous and breathtaking fountain ever created, an architectural masterpiece built in 126 AD featuring the world's largest unreinforced concrete dome, the assassination site of Julius Caesar, and so, so much more!

Case in point for the magical moments I was talking about: Leisurely afternoon walk = world-renowned art, history, and architecture.

In other words, we walked first to the Trevi Fountain and the Spanish Steps, then to the Pantheon, and finally looped back around to Largo di Torre Argentina. All within about two hours of our arrival in Rome and while waiting to check in at our hotel.

And you can, too.

Rome is walkable, but huge. It's an important city to plan for, but many sights can be easily grouped together so you're not trekking from one side of Rome to the other unnecessarily in the same day.

The Trevi Fountain, Spanish Steps, Pantheon, and Largo di Torre Argentina make an easy, central grouping for a nice walk. You can do it in a couple of hours on your arrival day, like we did, or extend it by spending an hour inside the Pantheon or waiting in line to get up close and personal with the Trevi. But we enjoyed just strolling by, taking it all in, and snapping photos.

A quick tip for the Trevi: The fountain will be insanely busy if you're there during pretty much any waking hour. Just in front of the fountain is a United Colors of Benetton retail store. It will be much quieter than the street outside. Go upstairs and look for the windows. You won't be alone—I'm not the only person providing this simple tip—but there will be just a few other savvy tourists taking turns at the windows and getting what I think is one of the very best views of the Trevi. You can take a couple of great pictures and move on. If you feel like you should, maybe buy a little something from the store on your way out.

After our walk and a sidewalk café lunch of burrata, carbonara, and gnocchi, we headed back to the W to check in, unpack, and get our first glorious showers after our long day of travel.

Rome After Dark

Our first night in Rome, we took a golf cart tour. Many cities have something like this. A tuk-tuk in Lisbon, an antique car in Paris—there's usually some form of motorized, personal tour that's easy and convenient when you're tired or when you have an enormous city like Rome in front of you.

Our golf cart picked us up right in front of the hotel. The tour was set for about two hours and would take us all over the city, starting just before sunset and ending just after dark.

I wasn't ready for the indescribable grandeur that is Rome when the lights come on...

Our tour started by driving through Villa Borghese, an enormous, beautifully landscaped public park filled with gardens, fountains, museums, and tree-lined paths. It's one of Rome's great green spaces, a place to escape the hustle of the city without really leaving it. From there, we drove to Piazza del Popolo before stopping in Piazza Navona just as the sun was setting and the lights were coming on.

And this is where Rome really started to get to me.

Piazza Navona is one of Rome's most beautiful public squares, surrounded by magnificent Baroque architecture and home to three elaborate fountains, including Bernini's famous Fountain of the Four Rivers. But as beautiful as all of that is during the day, seeing it lit up at night is something else entirely. The warm, golden-orange lights cast a glow across the grand buildings and elaborate sculptures, highlighting architectural details that might otherwise go unnoticed. The light reflected off the water in the fountains, illuminating the incredible works of art that the fountains themselves are. Everywhere I looked, there was something else to admire. Another statue. Another intricate carving. Another architectural detail that seemed impossibly beautiful.

The piazza was alive with people enjoying the summer evening, but it was the way the city looked that captivated me. And Piazza Navona was just the beginning.

Everywhere we went that evening, Rome seemed to outdo itself. Another illuminated fountain. Another ancient monument glowing against the night sky. I could barely take it all in.

From there, we headed over for our first glimpse of the Colosseum.

I had been anticipating this moment. Mentally preparing for what it would feel like to turn a corner and suddenly see that ancient, cultural icon I'd been waiting for.

And there it was.

We stopped. We marveled.

My eyes welled up as I thought about how much history had happened here. Nearly two thousand years ago, the Romans built this incredible structure to entertain tens of thousands of spectators with gladiators, animal hunts, and other public spectacles. An empire that shaped so much of the world we know today—for good and for bad—had constructed something so enormous, so ambitious, and so enduring that here I was, almost two millennia later, standing in front of it.

The Colosseum wasn't just something I'd seen in photographs or read about in history books anymore. It was right there. In front of me. And somehow, standing there in the Roman night, I felt connected to all those centuries of human history in a way that no book or photograph could ever replicate.

We took pictures. I knew we'd be back for the full tour. But in those few moments on our first night in Rome, with the city lit up all around us, I felt the power of the Colosseum.

The cultural power. The emotional power. The sheer weight of its history.

Our golf cart tour finished with quick stops at the Pantheon and Trevi Fountain, both indescribably beautiful after dark.

The chatter of other tourists. Families making memories. The smells of delicious Italian food wafting through the air. And these magnificent, meticulously crafted works of ingenuity and art just there in front of you, glowing in the Roman night, for anyone to admire.

Magic.

Day Two — The History of Lasagna (…But Not What You Think!)

We started our second day in Rome with a guided tour of the Roman Forum, Palatine Hill, and Colosseum.

After walking from our hotel to meet our group in front of the Colosseum, I got my first good look at it in the daylight. It was different from the illuminated version that had nearly brought me to tears the night before, but no less impressive. The building is imposing. Even standing outside, knowing what it is and how long it's been there, it's hard to fully comprehend its scale.

But we weren't starting there. First, we headed to the Roman Forum.

And this is where I learned about lasagna.

That's how our guide described it, anyway. Like a lasagna, Rome is made up of layers. Layers of history, layers of civilizations, layers of buildings and streets constructed on top of what came before. Beneath the modern city we're walking around today are centuries upon centuries of ancient Rome, much of it still buried underground.

Our guide explained that even something as seemingly ordinary as expanding the city's Metro system can become an enormous archaeological undertaking. Start digging a tunnel and you might uncover an ancient wall or the remains of a building that hasn't seen daylight in nearly two thousand years. Suddenly, your subway project is halted and has become an archaeological excavation instead.

And as we walked through the Forum, I could actually see what she meant.

There were the layers, right in front of me. Ancient streets, columns, temples, arches, and the remains of buildings that had once been at the center of Roman public life. I found myself picturing an actual lasagna, each layer representing another period of the city's long history.

But what fascinated me even more was the idea that I was walking along some of the same streets that ancient Romans had walked thousands of years before me.

I kept thinking about the people who had been here. People who lived normal lives, went to work, met their friends, bought their food, argued about politics, and walked these same paths. Here I was, thousands of years later, looking at some of the very same structures they had looked at.

I love that feeling. That almost impossible connection between the past and the present. The realization that something built so long ago is still standing, still part of the world, and that I get to see it with my own eyes.

From the Forum, we made our way up Palatine Hill. The climb was a little tiring in the summer heat, but the views from the top were absolutely worth it.

Looking down over the Roman Forum, I found myself thinking again about all the people who had stood on this hill before me. In some ways, they would have seen the same view. The same hills. The same landscape. And, depending on when they lived, many of the same buildings and monuments—although in their day, those buildings would have been whole, colorful, and full of life rather than the ruins we see today.

But in other ways, the view would have been completely different. So much of modern Rome didn't exist. The city had grown and changed around these ancient places for centuries.

The same view. And an entirely different one.

Finally, we returned to the Colosseum, this time to go inside.

And if the building had seemed imposing from the outside, stepping inside was something else.

Of course, I knew the stories of the gladiators. The battles, the spectacles, the thousands of spectators who once filled those seats. But standing inside the enormous amphitheater and looking down toward the arena, I was overwhelmed all over again by the sheer scale of it. That the ancient Romans could build something so massive and so sophisticated nearly two thousand years ago is hard to comprehend.

And then there were the little things.

Like the tiny doors at the bottom of the Colosseum that have been made for some of Rome's resident cats.

Yes, cats.

Here we were, standing inside one of the most famous ancient monuments in the world, contemplating the rise and fall of civilizations, and somewhere among all that monumental history were little doors for cats.

I loved that.

Because Rome isn't just a city where history has been preserved behind glass. It's a city where ancient history and everyday life continue to exist right alongside each other.

Layers upon layers.

Just like a lasagna.

Speaking of Lasagna…

After a whirlwind morning of sightseeing, we ended Day Two with a more relaxing—but no less fun—activity. An Italian cooking class!

We joined a group of about 15 people in a large kitchen with a real Roman home cook. A grandma! She'd been making fresh pasta and sauces her whole life, and she was the kind of woman whose wisdom you instinctively trusted and whose anecdotes you couldn't get enough of. I enjoyed listening to her talk just as much as I enjoyed learning her secrets in the kitchen.

While we didn't actually make lasagna, we did make two classic Roman pasta dishes: a cheesy, peppery cacio e pepe and a rich, salty carbonara. Both equally delicious. We also made tiramisu, because of course we needed dessert.

After all the cooking was done, we sat down together with our classmates—people from different places and backgrounds, all of whom we'd just met—and enjoyed the spoils of our hard work in the kitchen.

For a little while, we were one big, diverse Roman family, gathered around the table.

Not a bad way to end a day in Rome.

Day Three — Taking It a Little Slower

After two exhausting and exhilarating days seeing probably more historic sites than I ever had in my entire life combined, we needed a quieter day.

My daughters slept in, and I took a walk by myself near the banks of the Tiber.

I hadn't set out to see anything in particular, except the river. But in Rome, sightseeing almost can't be avoided. I ended up stumbling upon the Mausoleum of Augustus.

Like so many things in Rome, I could tell just by looking at it that it was something special, even if I wasn't entirely sure why. It was old. Very old. That much was obvious. But I had to Google it to find out exactly what I was looking at.

Turns out, it's the tomb of Augustus, Rome's first emperor, built more than two thousand years ago. Just sitting there in the middle of the city, waiting for someone like me to wander past on their morning walk.

I continued toward the Tiber, crossed one of its many bridges, and found myself looking at Castel Sant'Angelo, another enormous historic structure with an extraordinary past. Originally built as a mausoleum for Emperor Hadrian, it later served as a fortress and papal refuge. I didn't go inside. I just admired it from afar.

So, there you have it. I went out for a leisurely morning stroll by the river and stumbled upon the final resting places of two Roman emperors.

I guess when you're an emperor, a simple headstone just won't do.

And because I wasn't rushing from one scheduled attraction to the next, I had time to notice some of the more ordinary things about Rome, too.

Like the motorcycles and scooters. So. Many. Scooters.

With narrow streets, heavy traffic, and limited parking, it's no wonder so many Romans get around on two wheels. Everywhere I looked, there were scooters and motorcycles parked in long rows, sometimes filling entire side streets. They’re like the bicycles in Amsterdam. Different city. Different wheels. Same impressive commitment to squeezing as many of them into one place as possible.

And then there are the nasoni.

These little public drinking fountains are scattered all over Rome, continuously dispensing fresh, cold drinking water. The name means "big noses," a reference to their distinctive curved spouts. They're wonderfully practical, especially when you're walking miles around Rome in the summer heat. Bring a reusable water bottle and refill it as you go. Or just stop for a drink. It's free, it's refreshing, and it's one of those little things about Rome that I absolutely loved.

That evening, once my daughters were ready to join me, we headed out for one of their favorite hobbies. Shopping.

We walked along Via del Corso, one of Rome's main shopping streets, all the way up to Piazza del Popolo. We picked up sandwiches from the social media favorite All'Antico Vinaio and, of course, gelato on our way home.

Day Four — The Other Side of the River

Our fourth day in Rome started with a walk across the Tiber to Vatican City, where we were hoping to catch a glimpse of Pope Leo XIV.

We weren't planning to tour the Vatican Museums or the Sistine Chapel that day. The Pope was scheduled to address the crowds in St. Peter's Square, and we thought it would be a pretty incredible opportunity to see him in person.

We didn't have tickets. And that was fine.

We made our way toward St. Peter's Square, where throngs of tourists and pilgrims were gathering in anticipation. The magnificent St. Peter's Basilica stood at the far end of the square, and the entire place was buzzing with excitement. We were able to get surprisingly close before reaching the area where tickets were required.

And then, there he was!

Pope Leo XIV, riding through the square in the Popemobile, waving and greeting the crowds.

Large screens were positioned throughout St. Peter's Square, making it easy to follow along even when we couldn't see him directly. After riding through the crowd, he delivered a lengthy address from the front of the square, broadcast over speakers so everyone could hear.

We're not particularly religious, but that didn't make the experience any less fascinating. There was something pretty remarkable about standing among so many people who had come to see and hear the leader of the Catholic Church. For many of them, I imagine it was a deeply meaningful spiritual experience. For us, it was an extraordinary cultural one.

And we hadn't needed tickets, a guided tour, or any complicated logistics to be part of it.

We stood, listened, and took it all in.

We saw the Pope! Not a bad morning in Vatican City.

A Taste of Trastevere

That evening, we headed out for one of our favorite experiences while traveling. Food!

We were meeting our food tour group on Tiber Island, a tiny island right in the middle of the river. Connected to both banks by bridges, the island is home to a historic church, a hospital, and a handful of other buildings clustered along its narrow walkways. It's a curious little place, almost like a tiny village floating in the middle of Rome.

We arrived a bit early, so we had time to explore. And then we decided to pop into an inviting little restaurant called Tiberino for a cocktail and some appetizers before our food tour.

I'm so glad we did!

Tiberino turned out to be one of the cutest—and most delicious—aperitivo stops of our entire trip. We shared bruschetta, and my older daughter and I enjoyed what we agreed were the best Aperol spritzes we had in Rome. Not a bad start to an evening dedicated to eating.

After meeting our group, we crossed the bridge into Trastevere, and almost immediately the city felt different.

Trastevere is still unmistakably Rome, with its cobblestone streets, old buildings, and beautiful little piazzas. But it felt more residential. More neighborhood-like. Less like we were moving between famous monuments and more like we were walking through the streets where Romans actually lived.

And, as it turns out, ate some pretty fantastic food.

Our first stop was Da Enzo, a popular neighborhood restaurant, where we enjoyed burrata with fresh tomatoes and croquettes.

From there, we made our way to a little local cookie shop before stopping at Spirito di Vino, a family-run restaurant with an extraordinary secret beneath its floors.

Its wine cellar dates all the way back to approximately 80 BC. That's about 160 years before the Colosseum was built! We descended into the ancient cellar, surrounded by Roman brickwork and arches, and once again I found myself marveling at the layers of lasagna beneath this city.

And then we got to taste a little history, too.

We sampled a rich pork stew inspired by an ancient Roman recipe called Maiale alla Mazio, named for a friend of Julius Caesar and said to be one of his favorite dishes. Who knows if that’s true. Who cares if that’s true. Two thousand years of culinary history, and it was still delicious!

Then came one of my favorite bites of the entire trip.

We stopped at La Norcineria di Iacozzilli, a traditional butcher shop and deli that's been in business for generations. The Iacozzilli family has operated the shop since 1954, and they're especially famous for their porchetta. In fact, the shop calls itself the Porchetta King of Trastevere.

And after tasting it, I wasn't about to argue.

Juicy, flavorful porchetta with its crispy skin served on crostini. Simple. Delicious. Absolutely unforgettable.

One of the best bites of my entire trip.

And we weren't finished.

We sat down for a meal of pizza and two classic Roman pastas—cacio e pepe and all'amatriciana. We tried supplì, those delicious fried rice balls that are a Roman specialty. And, of course, we ended the evening with gelato at a little shop specializing in organic ingredients.

Pistachio for me.

By the time our tour ended, the sun had gone down and Trastevere's streets were glowing with the warm light spilling from windows and restaurants.

As we walked away from the gelato shop, I heard something familiar just around the corner.

Children playing. Laughing.

There was a neighborhood park full of local kids running around, swinging on the swings, and kicking a soccer ball back and forth. Parents sat along the edges, watching and talking while their children played.

It was such an ordinary scene. The kind of thing happening in neighborhoods all over the world on a summer evening.

But there was something especially lovely about encountering it here, tucked among the narrow streets of Trastevere, after a night of exploring the neighborhood through its food.

For a few minutes, we weren't looking at monuments or thinking about the next stop on our itinerary. We were simply walking through a Roman neighborhood, listening to the familiar sounds of children playing.

And I loved that.

Day Five — Pompeii: A City Frozen in Time

For Day Five, we headed out of Rome for a day trip to Pompeii.

We joined an organized tour for this one, and I'd recommend other travelers do the same. Pompeii is a substantial day trip from Rome, and while you can certainly arrange the transportation and tickets yourself, I appreciated having someone else handle the logistics.

We met our group at Termini Station and boarded a train to Naples, followed by a bus for the final stretch to Pompeii.

And can I just say how much I love taking trains in Europe?

They're quick, convenient, and make traveling between cities feel so easy. Europe is made for trains. I wish we had more of that kind of connectivity back home.

Once we arrived in Pompeii, we spent about two hours exploring the ruins with our guide.

Pompeii was an ancient Roman city buried by the eruption of Mount Vesuvius in AD 79. The volcanic ash and debris that devastated the city also preserved a remarkable record of everyday Roman life, leaving behind streets, homes, shops, public buildings, and artwork that archaeologists have been uncovering for centuries.

Walking through the ruins was fascinating. We wandered from one ancient structure to the next, looking at faded paintings and intricate carvings that had survived nearly two thousand years. Our guide told us about Mount Vesuvius, the eruption, and the people who had lived in this city before everything changed.

It was another one of those experiences where I found myself marveling at the passage of time. That these buildings and works of art had survived for so long, and that we could still walk through the streets of a city that had existed almost two thousand years ago, was incredible.

But let me tell you something else about Pompeii.

It was HOT.

We visited in the summer, and there is very little shade throughout the archaeological site. You're walking on uneven stone streets, surrounded by exposed ruins, with the sun beating down on you. If you're visiting during the warmer months, come prepared. Comfortable shoes, sunscreen, a hat, and plenty of water are essential.

After a few hours of exploring, we made our way out of the ruins and rewarded ourselves with one of those Instagram-worthy lemon sorbets served inside an actual lemon.

From there, our tour continued to a nearby winery on the slopes of Mount Vesuvius, where we enjoyed a wine tasting and a lovely meal.

After spending hours walking through Pompeii in the blazing summer sun, sitting down in the shade with good food and wine was exactly what we needed. It was cooler, quieter, and a wonderful way to finish the afternoon.

Then it was back to Naples, onto the train, and home to Rome the same way we'd come.

By the time we returned, we were exhausted. We headed straight back to the hotel for an early night.

Pompeii had been worth every minute. But we were definitely ready to put our feet up.

Day Six — One Last Morning to Wander

Day Six began much like Day Three, with my daughters sleeping in after another exhausting day of sightseeing.

Me, on the other hand? Up at the crack of dawn, per usual, squeezing every possible moment out of my trip.

It was our last full day in Rome. Day Seven would really just be breakfast, packing, and a mid-morning ride to the airport. And I wasn't quite ready to say goodbye.

While my daughters rested, I made my way back to the Villa Borghese gardens, which we'd previewed a few days earlier on our golf cart tour.

I love an urban park and always seek them out when I travel. And this was a good one!

I wandered along the paths toward a little pond where visitors were paddling boats across the water. A harpist was playing nearby. Children who appeared to be part of a summer camp were out with their teachers, and tourists and locals alike were enjoying the morning.

The park was dotted with statues and busts, and because I was alone, I could take my time. I stopped to admire the sculptures and read their inscriptions. I noticed purple-blue flowers blooming along the paths. Eventually, I found a shaded bench and sat for a while, listening to the music and watching the morning unfold around me.

And thinking about how lucky I was to be there.

I often find myself a little contemplative on my last day in a city. I'll look back through the pictures I've taken, think about everything I've seen and done, and inevitably start making a mental list of what I'd do differently next time. What I'd skip. What I'd do again. What I wish I'd had more time for.

I'm always planning my next trip, even when I'm not actually planning my next trip. You know, the hypothetical return visit. A little imaginary itinerary that may or may not ever happen.

But this time was different.

When I'd arrived in Rome less than a week earlier, I had absolutely no plans to return anytime soon. I had a whole world of other places I wanted to see! But somewhere over the course of those six days, I'd fallen so completely in love with this city that my usual hypothetical return trip had started becoming something much more real.

This time, I wasn't just fake-planning. I was actually planning.

I was already preparing to come back with my partner, who shares my enthusiasm for history. I was thinking about the places I'd want to show him, the experiences I'd want to repeat, and all the things I hadn't managed to squeeze into this first visit.

So there I sat, on a shaded bench in Villa Borghese, listening to a harpist and mentally planning another trip to a city I hadn't even left yet.

Rome had certainly gotten to me.

That afternoon, my daughters joined me for one last al fresco lunch of pizza and pasta. Then we wandered through the Centro Storico, popping into shops and picking up a few final souvenirs to bring home.

The next morning, we'd pack our bags, have breakfast, and head to the airport.

Our first trip to Rome was coming to an end.

But as it turned out, I wasn't going to be away for very long.

Three Weeks Later...

And just like that, I was back in Rome.

This time with my partner.

We packed a remarkable amount into four days. We did another evening golf cart tour, and the lights were every bit as spectacular as I remembered. This time, our guide also pointed out two particularly fascinating examples of Rome's layers. Near Piazza Navona, we could see ancient archaeological remains beneath the modern street level, part of the Stadium of Domitian that once occupied the site of today's famous piazza.

And then there was Basilica di San Clemente. From the street, it looks like another beautiful Roman church. But our guide explained that beneath the present-day basilica lies an earlier Christian church, and beneath that, ancient Roman structures, including a temple dedicated to Mithras, a god worshipped by followers of an even earlier religion in the Roman Empire.

Think about that for a minute. A Catholic basilica built above an earlier Christian church, which itself sits above structures from a time when Romans practiced entirely different religions. The layers aren't just physical. They're layers of changing beliefs, cultures, and civilizations, all occupying the same little piece of Rome over the course of nearly two thousand years.

Another serving of lasagna.

We revisited the Trevi Fountain, Spanish Steps, and Largo di Torre Argentina. We toured the Colosseum and Roman Forum again, and this time we bought tickets to go inside the Pantheon, rather than simply admiring it from the outside. We returned to Vatican City, too. No Pope this time, but instead a treasure trove of artwork in the Vatican Museums, culminating in the magnificent Sistine Chapel. Even the places I'd seen just three weeks earlier managed to impress me all over again. I mean it.

We also traded our Pompeii day trip for a visit to Tivoli, a picturesque town in the countryside outside Rome. There, we explored Hadrian's Villa, the sprawling remains of a retreat built for the Roman emperor in the second century, and Villa d'Este, a magnificent Renaissance estate famous for its terraced gardens and elaborate fountains. It was a little slower, a little greener, and a lovely contrast to the bustle of Rome. Another reminder that there's so much to see and experience in and around this city that even a second trip barely scratches the surface.

Trastevere, Take Two

We also booked another food tour, and I deliberately chose one that would take us back through what had been my favorite Roman neighborhood on my first trip—Trastevere.

I'd loved it so much on my first visit that I wanted to experience it again. But I'll admit, I was a little nervous. You know how sometimes you build a place up so much in your mind that when you return, it just can't possibly live up to the memory?

I wondered if that might happen here.

It didn't. Not even a little.

After another incredible—and incredibly delicious—food tour through Trastevere, we started walking back toward our hotel.

Just as I'd experienced on my first visit, when we'd stumbled upon a neighborhood park full of children playing and laughing, we encountered another little slice of Roman life.

We were crossing through a square near the banks of the Tiber when I heard music.

A band was playing.

People were sitting in chairs, standing around watching, chasing after their children. A few danced. We wandered over to see what was going on.

And something about that scene just got to me.

The moonlight reflecting off the river. The warm yellow lights spilling out from the buildings around us. The music filling the square. Children’s laughter. People just enjoying a summer evening in their neighborhood.

I stood there taking it all in, and suddenly I was overwhelmed with gratitude.

Not just gratitude for this trip, or for the opportunity to travel, although certainly that, too. But gratitude for being there, in that particular place, at that particular moment. For getting to witness a little piece of life that would have been happening whether I was there to see it or not.

What a privilege it is to be a stranger in someone else's city.

And just like that, the tears. Again.

There was no famous monument in front of me. No masterpiece hanging on a wall. No two-thousand-year-old ruins to marvel at.

Just a band playing in a neighborhood square, families enjoying the evening, and the lights of Rome glowing around us.

And somehow, after everything I'd seen and experienced in this magnificent city, this was one of the moments that moved me most.

There it was. The magic.

Still Captivated

I've been fortunate enough to visit some pretty incredible places in my life. Places with breathtaking scenery, elaborate architecture, fascinating histories, and cultures entirely different from my own. I've loved so many of them, and I hope to love so many more.

Rome has all of those things, of course. But for me, Rome was more than beautiful or fascinating.

Rome was captivating.

I don't know if it's the sheer concentration of history and beauty, the way two-thousand-year-old ruins sit alongside busy streets and neighborhood cafés, or the feeling that around every corner there's something else waiting to take my breath away.

Whatever it was, Rome had my complete attention. And it never really let go.

What I do know is that Rome made me feel something I hadn't felt quite so intensely in a long time.

That childlike sense of wonder. The kind that makes you stop in your tracks and stare. That makes you forget what time it is or what you're supposed to be doing next. That makes you want to linger just a little longer because you can't quite believe what you're feeling.

Sometimes it was an ancient monument illuminated against the night sky. Sometimes it was a centuries-old street beneath my feet. And sometimes it was a band playing in a neighborhood square, with children screaming and strangers dancing under the Roman moonlight.

I went to Rome expecting to see some of the world's greatest art, architecture, and history.

I didn't expect to fall so completely in love with the city that I'd be back three weeks later.

And I certainly didn't expect to come home feeling quite so much like that little girl who could spend hours watching a twig float down a creek.

But I did.

Rome reminded me that the world is still full of things worth marveling at.

It's full of magic.