The green shutters of urban Italy flutter open like eyelashes in the morning. They open lazily after sunrise to reveal dark-eyed women hanging over window sills with cigarettes on their lips.

Our brief experience of Italy in November unfolded a weather narrative as diverse as its culture, swinging from comedic bursts of golfball-sized droplets to romantic drizzles, and finally settling into quiet blackness. The cobblestones were black, wet, and shiny in the mornings. Sunrise gifted us five perfect hours for exploration, spells of light sprinkles urged us to pause in charming cafes, and dramatic downpours ushered in our noon siestas.

Evenings were welcomed with a fresh coat of lavender paint over all the buildings, giving us another handful of perfect exploring hours before stout dark clouds crept back in, heavy and swollen with a fresh supply of evening rain and inevitable nearing blackness.

Alex and I had always wanted a honeymoon in Italy, but thanks to Covid we had to compromise with a few car camping road trips. A sudden opening in our schedules a month before the trip allowed us to seize the opportunity to book last-minute tickets for our much-anticipated journey to Italy.

We started our journey in Rome.

Our Rome Apartment

We scored this adorable historic apartment near the Vatican, and it became our home base for four nights. From there, we set out to explore the city on a mission to find every delicious homemade pastry and discover the jeweled treasures of every painted ceiling and artwork. Honestly, there are probably enough of them to keep us busy for years, but I'm proud of how much we managed to uncover in such a short time!

A quintessential moment that unfolded on our first morning seemed to encapsulate the heart of the city. Houseless men on fountain steps, wine glasses in hand, savored boxed wine with regal poise. It echoed a sentiment: life in Rome isn't for guzzling from a carton but for sipping and tasting, always from a glass.

We climbed the Spanish Steps, danced along the riverbank, questioned the Mouth of Truth, marveled at the Trevi Fountain, and everything else we could think of, sans ballgown, to recreate Audrey Hepburn’s iconic Roman Holiday. We were traveling with backpacks, so I didn’t manage a wardrobe of Audrey-worthy outfits, but I did incorporate a silk scarf into every outfit in my best effort of a nod to her Roman Holiday aesthetic.

The most popular sites, such as the Coliseum and the Vatican were packed with tourists, even in November. The main areas felt a bit Disneyland-ish with long lines and waiters standing like hungry spiders in doorways, welcoming you into their Americanized eateries with giant photos of spaghetti and tiramisu. If you’ve ever been to Little Italy in Manhattan, you know what I mean — it’s charming and even magical in a small dose, but it lacks a certain genuine character that seeps into the outer, quieter parts of the city savored by locals more than ravenous tourists.

We found a handful of cafes where the old Italian men congregate for both their morning coffee and evening wine. Burley bartenders worked the espresso counters that convert to bars at night. The sound of porcelain cups stacking on their saucers tinkles like a music box while grey heads call out their orders and stand shoulder to shoulder at the bar, sipping their tiny espressos like scotch.

We started our days in these cafes, standing at the corner bar over our tiny pastries and tiny coffees, making our plans for the days ahead, and trying to blend in as much as possible to maximize our people-watching capabilities. Our assimilation was eased by Alex's thrifted leather jacket. We knew we'd made it when a local attempted to joke with Alex in Italian… Success!

One of Rome's charms lies in its abundance of public drinking fountains! Almost every few blocks, ancient running fountains offer a refreshing stop for handwashing or water bottle refills. This proved handy for hydration and getting rid of stickiness after indulging in multiple rounds of gelato—because... when in Rome!

Even more special than the drinking fountains are the artistic sculpture fountains scattered throughout the city. Sculptural masterpieces grace courtyards, parks, and street corners, and adorn entire building facades. From Gods and Goddesses to Horses and Dolphins, these marvels burst out of marble slabs with a spray of water all over the city, making Rome truly unique in both the number and grandeur of its fountains.

We made it our mission to check out as many churches as we could. While the outsides may not have been as flashy as some others on our trip, stepping inside was like entering a whole new world of jaw-dropping opulence.

The most magical moment in Rome occurred on our first night. A spontaneous detour led us to Bernini’s Elephant statue, and adjacent to it, a darkened church. Entering, we discovered hundreds of candles casting reflections off a blue and gold ceiling. The church, almost entirely in darkness, was filled with music from the back. We walked towards it, settling in the first pew. We’d arrived on a Sunday night and were there just in time to experience the monks chanting their Sunday evening songs by candlelight. One or two other people came and went, but for the most part we had the entire church to ourselves. We came back the next day to see it in the daylight, but surely the best way to experience an ancient cathedral is late at night, by candlelight, with the soft cadences of ancient poetry surrounding you.

Being an art history enthusiast, a major highlight of the trip for me was witnessing artworks in the very spots they were originally commissioned. While I've explored the halls of The Louvre and The Met, there was something truly enchanting about laying eyes on Caravaggio paintings and Bernini sculptures in their true homes. It’s one thing to see them in a museum, but to see them in Rome, where artists and architects were either one and the same or working in tandem added an extra layer of context that elevated the experience and enhanced the splendor of these masterpieces.

We savored one afternoon siesta in the Orange Garden on a hill overlooking the city. It was one of our few days without any rain, so we were able to rest on a balcony with bellies full of pasta and cheese, counting church domes and mounted statues that make up Rome’s iconic skyline.

Another favorite rest was curled up on some sunny steps on a little island in the river, where the remnants of Rome's oldest bridge sit just off the shore. Ducks bathed their jewel-toned heads in the sun and the bridge's fern-covered ruins stood like a massive sepulcher, cradling what felt like the living, pulsating heart of the ancient city, along with all of her secrets. We exchanged humored glances as every single couple passing by, from 17 to seventy, were irresistibly drawn to the ancient bridge and compelled to share an Audrey-and-Gregory-style taxi kiss, with gusto, as if the weathered carvings quietly embodied enduring love.

When in Rome…

Thankfully my mother had advised me to leave room in my pack for vintage clothing from city's infamous secondhand shops. Unique and affordable finds, like a genuine made-in-Italy leather jacket for $25, await! On our first day, I coveted a fellow tourist's lavender trousers, making a mental note to recreate them when I got home. To my surprise, a perfectly fitted pair awaited me in the first vintage shop I entered like a new-age manifestation. Score!

The touristy thing we did and enjoyed the most was by far the Borghese Gallery, home to a handful of Bernini’s best works. The museum is flanked by a beautiful park with paths lined with olive trees. The experience of witnessing marble transformed into skin cells, hair, leaves, bark, satin, and veins felt almost sacred. I always assumed I would prefer Bernini’s David to Michelangelo’s, but you can’t know without seeing them in person to understand JUST how remarkable they are. The emotion and energy radiating from every flexed muscle and breath of Bernini's subjects left a lasting impression on both of us.

Our most delicious meal in Rome was at Felice a Testaccio, a bit off the beaten path but super authentic! The eggplant appetizer, featuring red sauce and fresh buffalo mozzarella, was simple yet incredibly flavorful and *possibly* one of the most memorable things we ate on our whole trip! We also ordered the city's famous cacio e pepe pasta, highlighting fresh homemade bucatini, black pepper, and Pecorino Romano cheese. The chewy pasta and creamy sauce made for a perfect combination, complemented by a traditional Aperol Spritz and the best tiramisu of my life.

Our most treasured dining experience, however, occurred at Borghiciana Pastificio Artigianale, a quaint neighborhood establishment with a six-table capacity and inviting atmosphere. The chef's curated song selections (one at a time, sometimes mid chorus), occasionally accompanied by his impromptu singing, added a distinctive touch. The food was good, and the wine was spectacular, but the overall atmosphere of the place is what we loved so much. It felt more like the chef was cooking for friends than for the public. There were candles and baskets of warm bread, but it was a place where you could feel comfortable in your street clothes. We sat huddled in the window under an arbor of blooming flowers sharing bites of good home cooking and feeling totally at ease while the evening clouds rolled in, announcing the onset of the night's upcoming gentle rain.

We strolled back to the apartment under a wet black umbrella and matching sky, stopping for gelato before turning in and welcoming a new day of green shutters, burly baristas, jeweled cathedral ceilings, and of course, even more gelato.