Reminiscing about Roma

I was thinking today about  how I’ve all but abandoned this blog since moving back from Rome. Sure, Rome was a profound and unique experience for me, but it can’t stop there, right? Life can be profound and interesting elsewhere and I’m going to try to bring you profound and interesting things and keep this blog up better. Maybe I’ve been hesitant to blog because I know that nowhere can compete with Italy, at least for me.

In Rome, the beauty was in the buildings, the people, the trees, the air. You’re spoiled by it and haunted by it and most of all, mesmerized by it. I sometimes joke with people that living in Italy ruined me for life. All jokes are half true, you know? The experience of living in a place where Disney princess fairy dust floats through the air is indeed mind altering. In my old apartment in Trastevere, which is one of Rome’s oldest and illest areas, I’d work sitting by an open window. Everyday, like clockwork, the smell of fresh baked bread and the most delicious candy you can imagine would waft in on a gentle breeze. I’d look up at the little angel statue carved into the building across the street and the groups of ivy crawling up the wall beside her, and then I’d look down at those charming, uneven cobblestone streets and shake my head. how is this real?

I’m fully aware that Italy has more problems than not. Especially now. What I’m referring to has nothing to do with national debt crisis, or the backwards politics, or the illogical bureaucracy or the bunga bunga bullshit. It’s more the fabric of a culture that was built around living for pleasure. Once you’ve experienced living in a place where they want to enjoy everything they see, taste, smell and touch, it’s hard to come back to concrete sidewalks and frothy, burnt cappuccinos. 

It’s also hard to compete with the pizza. Pizza is the best thing Italians ever invented, in my opinion, and I do enjoy it in all of its forms. But I’ve actually been thinking about Italian pizza all day. The thin crust, the simple punchy tomato sauce, the mozzarella. I’m officially salivating. I will return to Italy one day and the first thing I’m doing is getting myself a pizza. 

Pizza Margherita, love of my life

Speaking of beauty and enjoying life, I just witnessed two construction workers have an uncontrollable giggle fit in my back alley. It was pretty beautiful. 

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7 thoughts on “Reminiscing about Roma

  1. I know what you mean about not being able to stay forever in a dream land. I travelled five years on a little sailing boat, from Britain to West Africa and back, it was an enchanted period of my life, but it had to draw to a close and I actually wanted to get back to a ‘conventional’ life style. I believe we look back at periods of our experience with affection and yearning, but also we create that enchantment almost anywhere we settle. It is us who is enchanting, not just the cities we experience, we carry our enchantment into each new life situation. At first it is difficult to adjust to a new place, but gradually we reestablish ourselves and create the same enchantment, in a new way.
    Some people imagine it would make them happier to live somewhere exciting, but if they are not already happy inside, then they will just take that unease wherever they go.
    You have a passion for life and that will be rekindled wherever you go.
    Clarissa

    • Thank you for that, Clarissa. I couldn’t agree more! If there’s one thing I learnt from living abroad is that happiness can only be found within us. Here’s to making the best of wherever we are! ~ cc

  2. Hi Carla. I wonder if you would like to contribute a weeks posts (between 3 – 7 posts) to a shared blog called ‘Vie Hebdomadaires’? I have been invited to do it and each contributor can suggest a follow-up contributor. As most of my local friends are coffee-driven-all-talk-and-no-actual-creative-output types, I thought of you and your blog as interesting and comfy with blogging. It is a years project and the topics are entirely your own choice, life living, photography, video, anything you like, perhaps a week long meditation on how The Boss (B Springsteen) features as a figure in your world : ).
    Clarissa

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