First sunburn of the year

If you’ve ever had a burning desire to get hit by a car, Rome is the place to do it. The traffic is insane in this city, with no lane markers and seemingly optional stoplights. Motorcycles and automobiles whiz by at ridiculous speeds, careening around corners just as you’re stepping off of the curb. It’s us versus them and you’ve got to cross the street with confidence or they’ll take you out like a bowling pin, never looking back as you wobble back and forth.

My first day here, I took on a dark blue sedan. He saw me coming from a block away, walking briskly across the street. I was in the crosswalk, which technically means that he has to stop, but this is Rome and the rules don’t matter, so he stepped on the gas and flew in front of me, blowing a smug kiss out his window as I jumped back, barely saving my toes from being crushed under his tires.

Perhaps it’s the scenery that brings out all of the drivers. It’s impossible to go anywhere in Rome without running into ancient history. Sometimes it feels sort of silly. Oh look, the Colloseum … oh look, Burger King … and there’s the Vatican … surrounded by a hundred little tourists shops … should we go into the Gap after looking at the ruins?

Slowly ancient history is becoming modern, with elaborate information booths built into thousand-year-old monuments and hotels encroaching on tourist hotspots until one day you might be able to rent a room in the Pantheon or have breakfast in the Pope’s royal bed.

I was a good tourist today, eschewing public transportation in favor of walking bravely alongside hurtling automobiles and endless wailing ambulances. I saw most of the important things that people say you need to see and my feet were aching by the time I got back to the hostel. Tomorrow morning I leave for Sorrento and I’m excited to hang out in a smaller town with less tourists and more room to breathe. If I can make it out of Rome without being hit by a bus or crushed by a car, this trip will have been a success.