Perhaps all roads do lead to Rome?

“Yes, I have finally arrived at this Capital of the World! I now see all the dreams of my youth coming to life. Only in Rome is it possible to understand Rome.“

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Let’s begin again where we started

I wanted to have an uninterrupted writing session tonight. However, I found myself distracted by two young American girls dragging their luggage up the stairs. One had stopped just outside the front door of my Air BNB, and suffered loudly.

I heard her cries of, “I need to take a break here. How many more flights of stairs are there? Did you find it yet? Oh God, can you find someone to help with my luggage?” I laughed at their all-to-common desperation, and then I thought I should probably help them.

I opened the door to the sight of a girl leaning on the stair rail. She was dripping with sweat and almost in tears surrounded by a pile of baggage.

She asked me, “Are you waiting for us? Would you please help me?”

I wasn’t sure how to answer the question at first. I smiled and said, “No, I’m not waiting for you, but it was impossible not to hear you struggling. And yes, I’d be happy to help you with your luggage.”

I took an inventory of the task at hand. She had the largest rolling duffel bag I have ever seen. It was large enough to fit a full-size person. She also had a full-size suitcase, a backpack and a purse. I have no idea how she got this far on her own. I’m assuming she arrived by taxi or maybe a semi-truck with all of that luggage. Her friend had abandoned her and already scaled the remaining flights alone.

My hands went for the body-bag first and hoisted it with a struggle. I could only think about my minor abdominal hernia.

I asked her, “Is this your first time in Rome? How long are you staying…two years?”

She gave me a puzzled look with her exasperated face and then responded she was here for a week.

At that point all I could say was, “You packed too much.”

It’s a scene that plays out every day on the cobblestone streets and inside the multi-level apartment buildings of Rome. These buildings were here long before elevators were invented.

We talked for a bit while I hoisted her bags up the two flights of stairs. I then retraced my steps to pick-up the abandoned articles her exhausted friend left along her desperate climb.

It was a good distraction from my thoughts.

I am waiting anxiously for tomorrow to determine my fate, or at least the fate of my living accommodations. Tomorrow is my self-imposed deadline to make a decision on one of two apartments to rent.

If you are curious about what apartment hunting is like in Rome, I can only compare it to searching for a used car. You scour through pages and pages of online advertisements making dozens of phone calls. You find what looks good in photos, is a complete disaster in reality. Or what seems remarkably mundane, is actually well-situated in a neighborhood alive with charming locals and dreaming immigrants.

In just a little more than four-weeks, I’ll mark my three-year anniversary since arriving in Rome, February 2019. It all seems a bit surreal to be back here looking for an apartment after what seems to have been many years ago. I’m settling back in the city where it all began. As they saying goes, “All roads lead to Rome,” and apparently so does the one that I am traveling.

This time it feels different. When I arrived that fateful evening in 2019, I was full of wonder, anxiety, fear and hope. Tonight, I’m full of clarity, confidence and an understanding that this is where I am supposed to be, for now. If you want to read about that fateful first night, you will find it in the first chapter of the book I am writing. You can read about it that here. (And no, I haven’t made a lot of progress on the book, but I’m not too worried about that right now.)

I have spent the last four months criss-crossing my way around Italia to see if there was a better place that spoke to me. However, I couldn’t find one. I passed through 10 of the 20 regions of Italia, but nothing moved me like Rome. Of course there were many places I could see myself for a good portion of the year. However, nothing compared to the 365-days of splendor I experience in Rome. There’s a reason it is called “the eternal city.” I see it not only eternal as in forever, but eternal as in a never-ending feast for all the senses.

So this is where I will begin again, this is where my road is leading me. Let’s just hope my road includes an apartment with an elevator!

Searching for something different on my road to Rome

I spent four months in Rome back in 2019. I walked from one end of the city to the other as I began to observe and absorb the culture of the city and the country. During that time, I didn’t have the same feeling that I have now. I wasn’t ready to appreciate Rome. As I mentioned before, I was full of fear and anxiety and the language barrier didn’t offer much comfort or opportunity to explore the area more deeply.

This time I am searching for the soul of the various neighborhoods, the rhythm and culture of the inhabitants, and ultimately, the energy among the dozens of potential locations. I am also thinking about where can I finally put a stop to my endless searching and constant motion. Where can I plant my feet and put down roots into the community. Can I find a greater purpose now that my life is as open as the roads that lead to Rome.

My criteria is different now as well. In the past I might have chosen a more sanitized version of Rome with clean streets, impressive buildings and upscale businesses around me. However, what I know now, after three years, is that those areas don’t always offer the opportunities to experience Rome fully. If you want to experience the all roads lead to Rome lifestyle, chances are Bulgari, Fendi and Savatore Ferragamo won’t be on that road.

There is one apartment that I like, just across from the Louis Vuitton flagship shop on Via del Corso. But as I think about it, I’m not sure the people visiting Louis Vuitton are the true Romans that I hope to be among. I think I’ll pass on that polished location and perhaps focus on a neighborhood that is based more in reality.

So much to see and do, so little time to see and do it

I dedicate probably 20 hours a week just searching and visiting apartments. The rest of the time I’m exploring the city and meeting locals. The pandemic is still taking its toll on tourists, so most of the people in the city are locals. There are plenty of opportunities to practice italiano, and I can do so without the feeling of embarrassment that I had three years ago.

I walk a lot here. It’s easy for me to walk 5-10 kilometers (3-6 miles) a day just exploring and seeing various places. Rome is best seen on foot. And as my shoes can attest to, it’s impossible to experience Rome in a car or tour bus. You have to put in the kilometers if you want to find the obvious and not-so-obvious treasures in this city.

I have given myself the goal of seeing one spectacular place a week, since there are so many places I haven’t visited. I find myself walking by something and saying, “I need to go there.” Now, I’m doing that.

Last week I took Sofia to the groomer. In italiano it is a “toelettatore.” After several weeks in the city, she had turned into the equivalent of a cute but filthy dust-mop.

The toelettatore needed a few hours to undo the mess of the last month so I decided I would leave her and find something different that I haven’t seen in Rome before. I was just across the bridge over the river Tiber (fiume Tevere), and directly in front of me was the Vatican and Castel Sant’Angelo, with it’s towering statue of the Archangel Michael sitting at the very top with his sword prepared to slay anything that attempts to disrupt righteousness. I have always had a connection with this monument, but never found the time to have a proper visit. But there’s more to the story of the Archangel Michael.

My history with the Archangel Michael: Michele Arcangelo

I had a difficult time finding my great grandfather’s actual birth documents. As it turns out, there were no shortages of Michele Lombardo’s that immigrated in the late 1800s. However, after many false starts, I finally traced his birth to a small town called Statigliano. That is where I discovered his full name was Michele Arcangelo Lombardo. He was named for the Archangel Michael.

The Archangel Michael is seen as the leader of the army of God and the leader of heaven’s forces in their triumph over the powers of hell. He is viewed as the angelic model for the virtues of the spiritual warrior, and also the warrior for the internal conflict within all of us. He is found in many religions, so apparently he is quite the popular angel. I browsed Wikipedia to gather some insights after my interest was triggered.

It all sounds a bit serious, but I chose to focus on specifically the “battle within” part. Because that seemed to resonate with my turmoil at the moment. I wanted to get this decision to return to Rome right this time. I was fighting an internal battle within me for fear of making a mistake.

So I walked up to the Castel Sant’Angelo and realized there was no line of tourists waiting. Normally there would have been no less than hundreds of people waiting hours to tour the famous monument. I paid the 12 euro entry fee and spent the next hour or so I wandering around practically alone.

Castel Sant’Angelo was originally built as a mausoleum for the tomb of Roman Emperor Hadrian in 123 A.D. Eventually it became a papal residence in the 14th century with many other military functions.

It’s impossible to tell the whole story of Castel Sant’Angelo. I know far too little about this remarkable place. To find out more, click here for a great article from the online journal Wanted in Rome.

The tour guides stationed throughout the monument were more than happy to talk to me. I think they were starved for a conversation with anyone–even my italiano didn’t turn them off from chatting. One woman even offered to give me a tour of the 500 year-old toilet of Pope Clement VII when I returned for another visit.

The point of me telling you this is that I found myself alone and deep in thought and meditation as I journeyed through the past. Every room I entered there seemed to be a statue, a painting or a monument dedicated to the Archangel Michael. It was impossible not to think of my great-grandfather’s gift to me that day. A gift he unknowingly gave almost 150 years ago: the gift of descendancy and the ability to return and connect to this place.

I realized after an hour or so of touring around the building, the weight of my decision to remain in Rome was no longer a burden. It felt as if each depiction of the Archangel Michael was reassurance that everything was exactly as it should be. Perhaps my conflict within had been slayed by the Archangel Michael.

All roads lead to Rome, and I am just one of many travelers that find myself on one of those roads. Heading back to Rome to be a tiny tiny part of its 2700 years of history.

“Rome will exist as long as the Coliseum does; when the Coliseum falls, so will Rome;

when Rome falls, so will the world.”

Saint Venerable Bede, English Benedictine monk

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