To cover Rome in 1 entry in this blog would be a shame. This eternal city has so much to offer! There is so much to do and see, and my 1 week stay was just enough, albeit tight, to cover the major sights. In the middle of the week I also did 2 side trips, respectively Castelli Romani in Lazio and Orvieto in Umbria. The busyness of every city (not just Rome) eventually choked me; I need a day or two to break free, get some fresh air and relish the slower pace of life.
The Trevi Fountain with Neptune on the center piece, Rome’s most beautiful fountain located in Piazza di Trevi, designed by Nicola Salvi and was finished in 1762 – not really that old compared to the rest of the ancient structures found in the city.
So I am going to divide my Rome entries into 4 – north, south, east, and west, and will start with the north area of Rome covering the following: Trevi fountain, Piazza di Spagna, Via Conditti, Spanish Steps, Borghese Park, Piazza del Popolo, Via Corso, Piazza Barberini, and the remains of the Cappuchin monks in Santa Maria della Concezioni in Via Veneto.
The north of Rome, well north at least on my book, was the first part of the city that I purposely navigated on foot. My hotel was centrally located and quite near to the northern area, just a 5-10 minute walk. Upon check-in hotel guests were provided with a colorful map of the city labeled with historic icons and legends for easy maneuvering to the next touristy stop. It was very handy indeed and seeing that I was right in the smack of everything, I was a happy camper.
Here is a modern day Rome police officer chatting with 3 Roman soldiers. Next foto is something I saw on the corner of a building in Piazza di Trevi. Is this just a normal artwork or a public altar?
As a woman traveling alone, my priority is to always check in to a hotel where there are a lot of people in the area (safer), no dark seedy alleys, and easy access to everything from shops, ATM’s, restaurants, public transport and facilities, and of course, the historical and cultural sights.
To stress yet a similar tricky point — again, as a woman traveling alone, and in Italy, I knew that this trip would entail a different angle of consequences for me. While waiting for my Rome Fiumicino flight in Amsterdam, an Italian man already strike up a conversation with me and I thought – oh damn, this is definitely not a good sign. Well, lo and behold, it was just the tip of the iceberg! There was not a single day, not even just a couple of hours that I can truly say I have been left alone by these unrelenting testosteroned-high yet amorous Italian men!
This is the baroque Barcaccia fountain designed by Bernini (either father or son) in Piazza di Spagna right below the Spanish Steps. Day and night, there’s always lots of people hanging out in this plaza. This is my favorite fountain in Rome too.
Just on my first day in Rome, I have already received too much unnecessary attention from the local men on the streets, young and old, and believe it or not, IT IS NOT flattering anymore. I repeat – IT IS NOT. It is becoming old and simply EXASPERATING. Sometimes you wonder about your safety. Is someone following me? Where did that moron go? Stop staring at me! I don’t want to talk to you! Leave me alone! Go away!
The famous Spanish Steps in Piazza di Spagna and the church Trinita dei Monti at the top of it.
I actually have a story about these skirt chasing Italian men. In retrospection, the incident was quite funny after all.
It all started in the Spanish Steps in Piazza di Spagna one evening. I was here earlier wandering around during the day and enjoyed very much the buzz of the place so I decided to come back in the evening to fulfill one of my favorite pastimes: people watching. The Spanish Steps is one of those perfect spots in Rome where from a vital perspective you can laze around, relax, and slowly let time pass and watch people go by. Now, what I didn’t know was that a woman ‘staying put alone’ is a bad move as it suggests in the Italian code of hunting women ethics, ‘easy prey’.
The Spanish Steps from above the Piazza della Trinita dei Monti church looking down through the always packed Via Condotti (also the parallel Via Bourgogne) – a high end shopping street in Rome. Gucci, Maxmara, Louis Vuitton, et al line up the alley.
Guess what? I have not even sat down for 5 minutes on the Spanish Steps when this 20-something year old Italian Enrique Iglesias look-alike (with mutts on his head too) sat beside me and started chatting. He then casually invited me for a walk in Via Condotti, proposing a more tempting activity later on in the evening, dancing the night away in a nearby discotheque. I declined his offer politely but like many other Italian men, this young man doesn’t take no for an answer. Blame the southern testosterones. So he devised a different tactic by firing up his ultimate boyish ammunition — pouting his lips with the please-I-am-so-cute-you-cannot-say-no-to-me look. When that didn’t work out (duh, obviously, what was he thinking then?!), he got cranky and gathered some speed and grabbed my hand. Huh WTF!? I pushed his hand away and firmly said, NO!!!
*Reeling a bit in shock*
The nerve! Can you imagine? This kid could be close to being my kid if I wanted one at an early age! Anyway, he left me. Good riddance.
I heard some whispering at the back and when I turned around I saw 2 guys sneering. They were obviously tourists, and as a matter of fact have just witnessed, and I guess enjoyed, the whole courtship episode before them, lol. 
Via Condotti, the high end shopping street of Rome located in Piazza di Spagna facing the Spanish Steps and exiting to Via Corso on the other side.
Anyway, its time to loosen up a bit so I flexed my muscles and stretched out my legs (they were very weary from walking all over like forever). I took pleasure for a minute appreciating the beautiful Barcaccia fountain before me. It’s my favorite fountain in Rome because it’s unique on its own. Barcaccia means something along the ‘useless leaking boat’ that’s why part of the boat sculpture design was purposely submerged in water. So while I was just getting into the jive of the place and having the fun time for myself watching people, I noticed some movement beside me. I looked up and I saw a(nother) man — huh, another proposition on the queue maybe?
This 40-something Italian man have looks blending between a bit of a Gene Hackman and a handful of Phil Collins (in short, he has a receding hairline) sat beside me, exactly the same spot where the Enrique Iglesias look-alike earlier sat down. As you might have guessed already, he right away strike up a conversation and I am all like – oh jeetje, not again. *sigh* What is this, queuing up for a tryout?
Bibite-Gelateria-Pizza. You see these food street vendors all over Rome.
More fotos can be found here: North of Rome, Italy
By this time I am so fuming with GGRRR. I just need 15 free minutes of my own in the fricking Spanish Steps! I felt defiant with the whole situation, being robbed of the solitude experience in this historic place, and wondered if I should have a huge signage in glaring colors placed on top of my head that says – Do not approach me! Do not talk to me! Warning: I have an incurable disease!
The man kept on talking and from the corner of my eye, I could see the 2 tourist guys sniggering and giving me a thumbs-up sign. Now, I really have enough of these strangers proposing like its the most normal thing to do on the streets, so I told the man I am going – I AM GONE. He tried to deter me and offered to meet instead on another evening at the same time and place – huh, did I hear that right? I was not really listening at all but as I walked away, I heard him shout a time to meet tomorrow evening. Uh, whatever?
Me in Piazza del Popolo with the 2 churches during dusk time: Santa Maria in Monsanto (left) and Santa Maria dei Miracoli (right).The street in the middle of the churches is called Via Corso, a very popular shopping street selling lots of IMHO rubbish.
Now here’s where it gets funny.
Of course, I did not take the invitation of this man seriously. In fact I deliberately ignored him when I walked away, but *some* Italian men just don’t have a clue I guess. Maybe someone out there needs to get entrepreneurial and offer exclusive crash courses to some of these male population in Italy. Title of the workshop: when a (foreign) woman says no, it is a big NO!
So the next evening, which was supposed to be the evening that I should meet him in the Spanish Steps, I was somewhere else in Rome, sitting on my own in a café near Piazza della Republica… when of all people, the man… the Gene Hackman-Phil Collins blend… strolled in front of me… LOL
Ack, I almost died! I wanted so bad to dive under the table when he stopped and recognized me!
Fountain detail of the obelisk in Piazza del Popolo. Next foto is the Porta del Popolo. Above the piazza is the Pincio Gardens and further the Borghese Park where one can enjoy a nice stroll with nature. Piazza di Spagna and Piazza del Polpolo are connected with each other via the Borghese Park where the Medici Villa is also located.
“Hey, it’s you, remember me? In the Spanish Steps?â€
Pretending not to know him or pretending to have forgotten, “Huh, I’m sorry?â€
“Last night, in the Spanish Steps, we met.â€
I looked at him and wondered if I am jinxed or what.
I mean, hello — isn’t Rome a H-U-G-E city? What is the likelihood to meet the same guy harassing you the night before on the next evening???
As expected, he invited me again to go out with him that night, and I again told him NO, adding in that I am very, very tired and will be heading back to my hotel soon.
“Where is your hotel?â€
I replied with my forehead wrinkling not wanting to give him the right answer, “Just in the area.â€
“I don’t believe you are tired. You are just bored because you are alone. You need some company.â€
I couldn’t help but chuckle, “What, I am bored? I am never bored being alone. I prefer it this way.â€
“Okay, but I still don’t believe you are tired. You are not 80 years old. You are young!â€
“I am tired and I don’t want to go out with you, but thank you.â€
“I refuse to believe you are tired. You just don’t want to go out with me because you don’t know me. I am a stranger to you.â€
Huh, isn’t that the same reason? Seriously, should I spell it out to him in huge capital letters why I do not want to go out with him? *scratches my head* 
Tritone fountain of Bernini (circa 350 years ago) in Piazza Barberini in the afternoon. This area connects (also via Metro) Station Termini-Piazza Spagna-Piazza del Popolo-Piazza della Republica.
Nevertheless, I stood up and excused myself, thinking only of ESCAPE. I went back inside the café and took the back door exit – my mind was very quick to note that there is an exit from the building to the other side of the road. I hurriedly walked out the door and with long quick strides turned right to the next block, then scampered off towards the direction of the hotel whilst cursing feverishly and checking my back if he was following me.
At the hotel reception I was greeted by the evening manager with his usual sexy grin and playful meaningful eyes. He has been flirting with me since day 1. He always makes it a point to only give me my room key once I have answered all his prodding questions. He finds it quite daring for a woman like me to be traveling alone and like any inquisitive Italian man, he is very curious to know how I spent my day alone, and if I enjoyed it alone, and of course, always hinting at the nearest opportunity of accompanying me anytime in the future. Yeah right, the cheeky bastard.
Chiesa Immacolata Concezione in Via Veneto near Piazza Barberini decorates the walls and ceilings of its crypt chapel with the Cappuchin monks skulls and skeletal remains. There is an encryption in the tomb of the Barberini prince that died as a child that says – “What you are is who we are. What we will be, you will be.†Entrance is free but you can opt to donate. It is not allowed to take pictures inside but I broke the rule (gasp!) and managed to get one before someone catches me albeit not as clear as I would have wanted it to be.
So there, after being drowned literally by the Italian male’s clichéd total engrossment on a woman and their provocative gallantry, I kind of miss the cold, passive, and straightforward Dutch men. They don’t gawk at you. They are not quick to appreciate and say – Ciao bella. They don’t come up proposing to you on the streets. If you give them a cold stare, they quickly pick up the signal and scuttle away like elusive little squirrels. Well, they just don’t bother at all really.
Hmm, makes you wonder who made the first move between Dutchman and me. Here’s the catch: I knew exactly what I want.