Rome: Things you should know about Rome

✨ Things I Wish I’d Known Before Visiting Rome

(for colosseumroman.com)

When I first arrived in Rome, I thought I was ready. My itinerary was planned, my tickets booked, my phone full of must-see spots. But the Eternal City had its own way of teaching me things — not through checklists, but through moments. Rome doesn’t just show itself; it slowly reveals who it is, one chaotic, sun-soaked, delicious instant at a time.

Rome isn’t just a place you visit — it’s something you live. The city pulses with contradictions: majestic and crumbling, noisy and serene, timeless and impatiently alive. You don’t “see” Rome. You let it wash over you, espresso by espresso, sunset by sunset.

Time here doesn’t obey the clock. Italians don’t rush — a “five minutes” can easily stretch to half an hour. At first it made me anxious; later I realized it’s part of the beauty. Rome moves at the rhythm of life itself.

You can spot real gelato at a glance. The best ones are creamy, stored in metal tubs, their colors soft and natural. The fluorescent rainbow mountains you see in tourist traps? Skip them. Real gelato doesn’t need to shout to be divine.

And here’s a secret: the water from the fountains — those little “nasoni” scattered everywhere — is perfectly drinkable. Filling my bottle there, under the Roman sun, felt like discovering a local superpower.

Staying in the historic center changes everything. When you wake up and the Colosseum is just a morning stroll away, the city becomes personal. You feel it before the crowds, when the light hits the ruins softly and the only sound is footsteps on cobblestones.

But don’t count on last-minute tickets — book in advance . The Colosseum, the Vatican, the museums… they all punish improvisation. I learned it the hard way, staring at a “sold out” sign under the blazing sun.

Rome is best explored on foot. The traffic is chaos, the scooters are fearless, but every corner hides a postcard. The city rewards your steps — every detour, every wrong turn brings another story.

And speaking of stories — St. Peter’s Basilica is free to enter. You just need to arrive early, really early. By 8 a.m., the line already snakes across the square, but once you step inside, under that dome of light, it’s worth every minute of waiting.

Bring a scarf or something to cover your shoulders and knees. Churches and basilicas are sacred spaces, and a bit of respect (and fabric) goes a long way. That small piece of cloth saved me more than once.

And beware the “ gladiators ” outside the Colosseum — they look friendly until they pose for a photo and demand €20 with a smile sharp enough to cut marble.

Cash is still king here. Many small cafés, gelaterias, and local trattorias don’t take cards. And while we’re at it — don’t expect Wi-Fi everywhere. Some of Rome’s charm lies in being gloriously offline.

When it comes to food, simplicity wins . The holy trinity — carbonara , amatriciana , cacio e pepe — will ruin you for life (and any future diet). A real Roman pizza is thin and crisp, a perfect balance between crunch and flavor. And no, you won’t find pineapple on it — and you won’t miss it either.

In summer, the heat is merciless . Sunscreen and a hat are as essential as your passport. I learned that too late, standing red-faced under the noon sun, pretending I was fine.

Sundays change the mood of the whole city. The traffic fades, the piazzas fill with laughter and guitars, kids chasing pigeons through fountains. Rome slows down and breathes — it becomes the locals’ Rome again.

Romans talk loudly, with their whole body. It’s not anger — it’s passion, pure and contagious. Once I understood that, I started loving the soundscape: espresso cups clinking, scooters buzzing, voices rising and falling like music.

Even Google Maps gives up in the old center. The alleys twist and narrow, the buildings block the signal. Asking for directions in broken Italian and getting a smile in return always worked better.

When you reach the Trevi Fountain , don’t just throw your coin and leave. Do it properly: stand with your back to the water, toss it over your left shoulder with your right hand. One coin means you’ll return to Rome — and trust me, you’ll want to.

You don’t need to pay for history here. Rome is an open-air museum. Walk through the Forum at sunset, cross any bridge, and you’ll feel centuries brush against your skin.

At restaurants, don’t overlook the house wine — it’s usually fantastic and far cheaper than the bottled options. And always, always eat where the locals eat. The best places rarely have laminated menus or photos of pasta outside.

If you take a taxi , make sure it’s official and white with a visible meter. The others might be offering “help,” but your wallet won’t thank you later.

For longer stays, the Roma Pass can be a great deal — it includes public transport and several sites. And while we’re being practical: some public bathrooms don’t have paper, so bring tissues. A tiny tip that feels like gold when you need it.

When the day ends, climb to the Janiculum Hill (Gianicolo) . As the sun dips behind the domes, the whole city glows in shades of gold and terracotta. No rooftop bar, no Instagram filter can match it.

Because Rome isn’t just beautiful — it’s alive. It argues, it laughs, it feeds you, it humbles you. It’s chaotic, romantic, exhausting, eternal. You’ll leave with sore feet, too many photos, and a heart that beats a little faster than before.

Rome doesn’t ask to be understood — it asks to be felt. And once you do, it never really lets you go. ❤️🇮🇹✨