Rome Alone
- Aug 12
- 7 min read
All across Rome preparations are underway for the 80th anniversary of the Italian Republic. Massive stages are being erected at the Circus Maximus and all along the Via dei Fori Imperiali, the grand avenue leading to the Colosseum, raked seating is being installed for thousands of spectators.
When I arrive at the the colossal monument I see what I imagine to be a Christo art work being wrapped around the imposing facade. Up close I realise it is actually 80 firefighters lowering a gigantic white cloth. In just a few days time, it will be replaced by a mighty tricolore Italian flag. I pull out my phone and film the unusual spectacle. When I post the clip on my Instagram page it is swiftly picked up by the handle @weare.roma and before too long has garnered 111 thousand views!
National pride is reaching fever pitch so I decide to escape the crowds and enjoy a quiet picnic in the Borghese gardens. But just as I am chowing down on my pungent cheese and prosciutto panini, nine jet fighter planes screech overhead blazing a trail of red white and green fumes. Zooming north to south, they then circle back to disgorge another round of coloured plumes east to west. There is no escaping it.
The date, June 2 2026, coincides with my 63rd birthday so I decide to surrender to the chaos and enjoy the fireworks.
I am in Rome alone for a full cheeky week. I haven't been to the Ethereal City for decades so I'm pumped. I plan to set out from my rented apartment in Trastevere each day and walk the city at random. Only on the first day do I have an agenda - the Pantheon. I've booked online so I presume it'll be smooth sailing. Not so. When I get to the top of the queue the attendee says I have to go over to a nearby plaza and find a guy waving a telltale flag from whom I will get my ticket. When I return with said entry pass, I join a queue that is shorter than the rest but when I finally arrive at the top, the attendant says 'no' once again. This is the 'cash queue'. I have to go to the really long queue. There is no way around it.
Out in the Piazza della Rotonda under the blazing sun, I wait for another half-an-hour and make a mental note to pay cash next time! The Fontana del Pantheon is draped with sweaty tourists all waiting patiently like me for the queue to inch forward towards the facade of this must-see monument.
At least waiting in line gives me more time to appreciate the scale of this iconic building. It seems as though the heavy stone circular structure has sunk into the piazza over time. However it is the Piazza that has risen up around it with accumulated debris of the past two millennia. Inscribed in Latin above the pediment is the phrase, "Marcus Agrippa, son of Lucius, three-time consul, made this". Go Marcus! On top of the roof I notice some workmen installing what I presume are festive lights for the Republic's anniversary. Eighty years seems like no time at all compared to this temple to all gods built in 25 BC.
Inside, the building's famous oculus lets in a beam of light which shifts as the Earth spins on its axis around the sun. Rain is also afforded access to the interior and and there is a huge drain in the centre. Visitors like to poke selfie sticks under this roped-off section that in fact contains five drains. But it's the marble slabs underfoot that capture my attention. Worn smooth by generations of feet past, it conjures up the changing styles of all those Roman sandals.
I have a list of some of the favourite restaurants of my friend and Good Food Guide's 2026 Chef of the Year Lauren Eldridge, so each day I set off to lunch at one of them. At Emma Pizzeria the ricotta ravioli in sage butter melts my heart. Al Moro is a classic Roman haunt established in 1929 with embossed crockery to prove it. The sea bass here sets me up for an afternoon of total delight.
Heading to the Piazza Navona I decide to bar-hop around the circumference and indulge in the ancient art of people-watching. At Gelateria tre Fontane I scoop a gelato. No shame in gelato in Italy! Then I settle in for a serious beverage at Ristorante Domiziano. Before me is the majestic Fontana dei Quattro Fiumi featuring noble marble figures depicting the Nile, Ganges, Danube and South America's Rio de la Plata - the four rivers of Paradise. Designed by the baroque master Bernini in 1648, the centrepiece of the piazza is a marvel to behold.
Tre Scalini also has a fabulous view of the fountain. I order some antipasti and a glass of vino bianco and watch environmentally conscious tourists fill their water bottles from one of the city's generous spouts. The humble bubbler is truly a civilised gift to the people, especially in the increasingly hot European summer.
As the setting sun turns the surrounding buildings an even more delicious shade of terracotta, I suddenly hear a deafening noise. It's those jets at it again! Only a few days to go now before the big event.
During its historical conquests of far-flung lands, the Roman Empire sourced treasures and monuments including awe inspiring obelisks from Egypt carved with hieroglyphs. Augustus brought back two of these stelae in 10 BC - the red granite Flaminio, now towering 24 metres over the Piazza del Popoli, and the Montecitorio which is just 3 metres smaller.
There are 13 obelisks in total in the city and a each tells a unique story. But perhaps the most mind-boggling carved monument is Trajan's Column. Carved in spiral relief is the story of the Emperor's victory over the Dacians in what is now Romania. The battle lasted five years and yielded a million pounds of silver and half a million pounds of gold among other significant loot.
There's a door that leads straight out to the base of the column from beneath the Palazzo Valentini, now home of the Metropolitan city of Rome. My guide opens it for a sneak peak. We are not allowed to venture out but clapping eyes on this magnificent landmark helps me reorientate myself. I am on an underground tour of one of the city's hidden gems, the Domus Romane.
in 2005, beneath the rubble of an earthquake, the ruins of two Imperial homes and an ancient temple were discovered. From the boardwalks, the remains of elaborate mosaic floors can be seen along with the basalt paving stones of roads that naturally all led to Rome. Since 2023 this tour has been amplified with a multimedia overlay of projected imagery that gives you an idea of the opulence enjoyed by the inhabitants of these Domus.
In search of more antiquated landscapes I head south to Pompeii on a day tour. We meet in the Piazza del Popoli under the Flaminio obelisk and follow our guide to a sizeable coach for the three and a half hour trip south. Along the way we stop at one of the usual tourist traps to use their facilities and snaffle some limoncello then carry on in the comfort of the coach. After walking up to 16 kms each day for the past week its rather nice to be propped up in a comfortable window seat letting someone else do the thinking.
When Vesuvius finally appears in the distance my pulse races. I have two Grand Tour era paintings of this volcano in full eruption mode hanging on my living room wall. But before we reach the town that was smothered in its ash on that fateful day back in August 79 BC, we hop into a series of smaller buses for a side trip to the precipitous coastal village of Positano.
I peel off from the group and head down the winding laneways past a multitude of shops extracting oodles of tourist dollars from the hoards of passers by. Squeezing myself into a patch of black volcanic sand on the overcrowded beach, I strip off and plunge into the Tyrrhanian Sea. It feels great to be suspended in salty water after the long journey. On the walk back up to the meeting spot, I slip into the garden bar at Le Petit Murat for a quick cocktail to prepare me for Pompeii.
The place is seething with tourists and our guide is on a tight schedule. He shunts us here and there, criss-crossing the site at speed. We pass an intimate open air theatre with perfect acoustics. A penis carved into a gutter points towards what was once a brothel. The remains of fountains mark the intersection of Roman roads where the elite met for conversation. These cambered roads sure have stood the test of time. Built on the back of slaves, they were specifically created to enable the efficient movement of troops and supplies and are still super solid underfoot.
Before we know it we're on the bus headed back to Rome. In the morning I will take a train to Tuscany where my mother has rented a villa for a few weeks. Family members will be there to celebrate my birthday and the anniversary of the Italian Republic. But for this precious period in time, I have been able to spontaneously indulge in some of the best of Rome and its surrounds. I've been in a bubble of my own choosing and it has been an absolute joy.
