Rome is like a fantasy, an insatiable desire, a ravenous want. Like an incessant reverie, an engulfing dream, it lingers long after it’s seen, touched and tasted.

A late night and a day and a half was all we had to absorb as much of this eternal city as we possibly could. But long after we had validated our train tickets back and packed our bags home, Rome lingered with all its magic, all its divinity, all its glory.

Centuries of sporadic growth has transformed Rome from a fledgling city-state to the capital of the enormous western world. Looking at Rome today, the phrase, “decline and fall” seem preposterous. Even though Rome no longer dictates western history, its claim about the modes of culture remains firmly intact. Style. Art. Food. Passion. These form Rome’s new empire, tying the city to the living moment, rather than downgrading it to stagnate in a museum case.

Today, while the Colosseum crumbles from industrial and traffic pollution, Romans celebrate their culture-rich city. Concerts animate the ancient monuments and children play football around the Pantheon. In a city that has stood proud for nearly three thousand years, Rome’s glory is not dimmed, only slightly altered. Today, mystical ruins, peaceful hillsides, and panoramic views give this region the colourful diversity that attracts thousands of tourists year after year.

Out of our day and half, we reserved a full day for Rome and the remaining half for the Vatican City. Next rainy morning in Rome, we did as the Pakistani’s do — we literally ran around the city and covered every single monument on our ‘to see’ list. Our first stop was the Colosseum.

The Colosseum stands as the enduring symbol of the timeless city; a hollowed spirit of travertine marble that once held as many as 50,000 frenetic spectators and now dwarfs every other ruin in Rome. They say within 100 days of its inauguration in 80 AD, over 5,000 wild beasts perished in the bloody arena, and the slaughter continued for another three centuries. Even with renovations taking place left, right, centre and underneath, one could almost hear the crowd chanting, the swords clinking, the blood splattering. It is difficult to stand on the balcony at the Colosseum and not get the chills, for the collapsing monument stands as much for death as it does for strength and martyrdom.

Across the Colosseum was the dignified Palatine Hill. Legend has it that it was here that Romulus built the first walls of the city. Between the Colosseum and the Palatine Hill lies the Arc of Constantine or Arco di Costantino, one of the best preserved imperial monuments in the area. The arc commemorates Constantine’s victory at the ancient Battle of the Milvian Bridge in 312 AD.

Our next stop was at the infamous Spanish steps, which were, well, just steps. “Designed by an Italian, paid for by the French, named for the Spaniards, occupied by the British and currently featuring American greats like Ronald McDonald,” the Spanish steps are quite international.

 

The Colosseum stands as the enduring symbol of the timeless city; a hollowed spirit of travertine marble that once held as many as 50,000 frenetic spectators and now dwarfs every other ruin in Rome. It is difficult to stand on the balcony at the Colosseum and not get the chills.

 

No offence to the steps, but the Piazza di Spagna that leads to the Spanish Steps caught our attention more than the steps. Home to debonair designer boutiques such as Fendi, Gucci, Prada, Dolce & Gabana, and Valentino, it was a great spot for people-watching and socialising. Even though we couldn’t speak a word of Italian, we made our presence felt, or so we thought.

To the right of the Spanish steps is the site of John Keats’ death in 1821, where now stands the very pink Keats-Shelley Memorial Museum which displays several documents and memoirs of the English romantic poets.

While a few of us wanted to visit the legendary wish fountain Fontana di Trevi to get a dream or two fulfilled, with all of mine already satisfied, all I wanted to hear was the rumble of its cascading waters where Anita Ekberg took a dip in Fellini’s La Dolce Vita. Following the legend, I flipped two coins into the fountain ensuring my return and proving my love for Rome. Bathed in the flashbulbs of thousands of disposable cameras, it is difficult to not end up there at some point for somehow, all roads in Rome lead to this tourist monstrosity.

With the Vittorio Emanuele Monument, more popularly known as the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, tens of unbelievably divine churches, Naiads Fountain, Ponte S. Angelo the famous angel bridge along with the others along the river and Castel Sant’Angelo, the famous castle across the famous bridge, we concluded our one-day Roman holiday.

The next morning, we literally dressed up for the Vatican, for it had a strict dress code. Occupying over a 100 independent acres within Roman boundaries, there stands the foothold of the mesmerising Roman Catholic Church, the mightiest power in Europe.

The Vatican has historically preserved its independence by minting coins called the Italian lire and euros with the Pope’s face imprinted on them. The Vatican also runs a separate press and postal system.

The colonnade around the famous Piazza San Pietro at the entrance to the Vatican, designed by Bernini — the paramount Baroque sculptor and architect of 17th-century Rome — drew people towards the church like a pair of open arms. Mussolini’s della Conciliazione, an avenue built in the ’30s to connect the Vatican to the rest of the city, opened a broader view of the church than Bernini had ever imagined.

Two fountains frame the central obelisk and nearly 140 statues of saints ornament the area above the colonnade. Those atop the breathtaking St Peter’s Basilica represent Christ, John the Baptist and the apostles, minus St Peter, of course. The Basilica itself was awe-inspiringly overwhelming. Every wall, every ceiling, every mosaic told a fascinating tear-jerking story. The place was too holy to digest, too heavy to absorb. Though we could only walk through the Basilica, for the museums were closed for the day, no one seemed to mind.

As we bid adieu to Rome that afternoon, we were almost in trance. As for me, I left a chunk of my heart and a bit of my soul to roam the streets of Rome as I go on with life across oceans.