Envoi

The beginning of an adventure is easy to write about. You have hopes and expectations of what will happen. You're imagination is working overtime, mind like a child about to go to Disneyland. The possibilities are endless. But endings are tough.

The journey is over. Bilbo has returned to the shire. There's nothing left to do but write out the story, wrap it up nicely, slap a bow on it and call it done. Sounds simple enough, but I have been trying to write this for quite a while. If this were being penned by hand, I would have killed a forest with all the trashed ideas. So, this is why endings are hard.

I guess this envoi has to be written, so I'll just start at the beginning. I was eleven when I was first introduced to Rome. I used to sit in my Latin class wishing I could have taken French like everyone else. But by the end of the year I had fallen in love with Ancient Rome. Through the rest of my middle school and high school career I studied the language and the city I loved. Although I strayed from the path for a few years I found the old adage true: all roads lead to Rome. I spent half my life unknowingly working toward this trip, and now that it's come and gone, I think I'm in shock.

I've done a lot these past few weeks and I have the blisters and bruises to prove it. I caught the roman plague and survived. I managed to not burn to a crisp in the Mediterranean sun. I visited countless sites and got lost on multiple occasions. I've learned a lot about historical and I might have learned more about contemporary Romans:

Italians do not know how to queue. The concept eludes them.

Everything runs on their time, not yours. Learn to deal with it.

Old ladies are rude. I'm still miffed about the taxi.

If you're at a restaurant they will stop at nothing to feed you.

Personal space is almost nonexistent.

Natural blonde hair confuses them.

Gelato can be whatever meal you want it to be.

Every couple in Italy is more in love than you and your partner are.

You will never be as dapper as the men in three piece suits riding mopeds.

The secret to how Italians look better than you is all the stairs and hills in Rome.

These are just a few golden nuggets of wisdom from my time in Rome, and it makes up maybe a hundredth of the information I've learned overall. This class and trip have taught me more than any class I have taken yet, and I am very grateful for it.

I suppose this is the part where the envoi should get deep and emotional, and I should sit with a box of tissues and a pint of Ben and Jerry's ice cream. Unfortunately, for you I have neither near me, so we'll just skip over the crying portion. Feel free to use your imagination and get a box of tissues and a pint (or gallon, judgement free zone) and cry as you pretend to read a paragraph of me bearing my soul. I'd imagine I would mention how much effort I, and everyone else, put into this class. How we all worked together during those early mornings, the hikes up hills in the blistering heat, and how we all had each others backs. I would also probably say that no one left Rome as the same person they arrived as. That this was a life changing experience for everyone. I would mention that this was a truly incredible experience, and that I'm incredibly grateful to have been a part of it. But, I am most definitely not getting emotional right now and I am not saying those things. You're imagining it while you weep and spoon ice cream into your mouth with an industrialized ladle. That is you, not me. I am an emotional rock. The tarpeian rock to be exact.

So, to sum up the Rome trip: I came, I saw, I conquered. By that I mean: I arrived, I was infected with the plague, I overcame it and had an amazing time in the city. I walked the city under the sun and the moon. I saw the sights. I got lost multiple times, I got unlost multiple times. I ate my weight in gelato and gluten-free pizza. I made some questionable decisions, but I regret none of them. I had ups and downs, moments where I wanted to go home, but I stayed and I'm so glad I did. I wish I could have stayed longer, but that was not in the cards.

So, that concludes my story of my visit to Rome.

The End?