I don't know what it is about Rome that makes me feel so much at home. It's like I feel incredibly safe walking the streets on my own, and it's ok to get lost once in a while, actually, it feels good to get lost and figuring out my way back to the right path. I even get a feeling that people might mistake me for a local (except when they ask me something in Italian and I totally freeze!). Now that I think about it, I've had a lot of people thinking I was Spanish because of my looks (sure they never heard me speak Spanish, because if they did they would mock me so bad, like someone who once told me I looked like Doraemon talking). I even get the metro and the bus like I am in Lisbon, like I do this everyday! It's like I belong here and I could stay in Rome for a very long time.
On the first day I had seen the weather, and I knew I had until about 1pm until it started raining, so I was out of the door by 7.30am, got on the metro and started where I'd planned to start in the first place: Colosseo. First smile on my face was when I asked the metro ticket IN ITALIAN - Oh, Italian, I've missed you so much!
For all the plans we've made!
I walked the streets of Rome, taking the steps I had taken a year ago, and for each step I got happier because I kept comparing the person I was the first time I was here, and the person I am now. Can a person change this much in just one year? I mean, year ago I would NEVER even consider travelling alone, and today here I am.
Walking the streets of Rome again got me thinking how I will always regret my decision of not doing my Erasmus in Italy. Don't get me wrong, I LOVED Switzerland, but Italy felt right from day one, I don't really know why, but I just feel at home. Ok, maybe I do know why: ITALIAN (pure joy to my ears) and THE FOOD (Oh My God, this is the best food ever!), and pretty much everything from the colors of the narrow roads to the crazy traffic and the noise all day long, I love it all!
After arriving by táxi and getting totally robbed when he asked me 20euros for the ride, he pointed at the building of the hostel.
Me: That one in construction?
Driver: Yes!
Me: Of course it is...(a million thoughts on the many diferente ways I was going to die started popping in my head).
Driver (looks at me with a mocking face): Good luck, signorina!
It only got worse from here. The guy at the reception was very weird, people in the common area didn't really speak, my room wasn't in the same appartment as the common area, I was put in a room where I was the only girl with six guys (who made very weird noises while sleeping), there were no stairs to the bunkbeds so I had to turn into a ninja and jump to the top to reach my bed - that had sheets with suspicious white stains on them., no breakfast included and there was no security in the rooms - the guy would give each one a key of the bedroom but the door was always open, so anybody could get in and out of the rooms without any supervision. And when you're a girl travelling alone, you have a certain need to feel you're safe in your hostel because it becomes your home for a few days.
I smile at the guy, dropped my stuff in the room and went running down to the street and called a friend in dispair and just said "I am NOT staying here!" and pretty much explained her that if I stayed there I would die because I had booked probably the worst hostel ever and really far away from the centre.