It was Sunday, my fifth day in Italy, and Mom had scheduled another trip.
Frankly, I was already exhausted by then. This was to be our third straight day of sight seeing and I haven’t really had enough rest from the preceding two days. It was, however, Roma. Where the Vatican was. One of the most ancient cities in the world. Perhaps it’s most historically preserved.
I could’ve asked for a day of respite, but I wouldn’t pass up on the opportunity to hear Sunday mass at heart of the Catholic faith now, would I? Besides, my Mom had deftly orchestrated it so she could grant me my request to hear mass in Rome, which I remember now as the only specific thing I asked from her.
And so in spite of stiff calves and travel-weary souls, we ditched the car and took the train to la capitale di Italia.
Rome was… overwhelming. I believe it’s a city that will exceed anyone’s expectation. Every corner was worth exploring, every street seemed to be a trove of historical treasures. A few hours there was enough to make a mark on you, but not nearly enough for to give justice to your visit. I vowed to return and just get carelessly lost in this intricate and fascinating city.