A Photographic Journey Of Rome


For all the delights of Winter in England, by the time February slowly rolls into force, year-on-year I find my self yearning for more light. The cosy and festive darkness of the late-rising and early-setting sun seems far from a welcoming comfort it once was before Christmas. Instead, the darkness of the day yields an immeasurable desire for the feeling of a tender kiss of sunlight on my increasingly pale skin. 

I have always loved the Mediterranean light. In England, we seem to receive the extremities of natural sunlight: either a low and subtle daylight or a mid-summer onslaught of brightness. I refer you here, not to weather, but light. It’s of vital importance to anyone who enjoys observing. Good light has the power to change solid reality, to cloak poor architecture in a dusting of tiptoeing shards of light, renders a seemingly rundown example of architectures past into a historic example of a by-gone era. Luckily for Rome, there is no need for light manipulation, for it’s very being emits the energy of a modern City which harmoniously sits with it’s historic renaissance past.


Exploring Rome is like peeling an onion, layers of diverse history imposed on top of one another forming a whole. The enjoyable challenge is to find yourself at the core of the layered-Capital from where you, naturally, reflect on the awesome history. The cobbled alleyways, worn down by footsteps which brushed shoulders with pioneers and leaders from the renaissance world to archways which you too share with these notable figures whose works are now globally taught. Rome gifts you a sense of equal belonging, a part on stage in a production of ancient discovery.


As expected, food in Rome is the second half of the delight. Local eateries with local Italians engulfed in their self-proclaimed seats lay next to modern playgrounds for the young and chic. Yet, in this City, these contrasting worlds seem to harmonise. As long as you speak Italian, everyone welcomes you with open arms paired with an inquisitive smile at your disastrous yet appreciated attempt at speaking the local tongue. 

Rome is a treasure trove of discovery and one which basks in a glorified ray of light. Like all visitors to Rome, I arrived a boy but leave a renaissance man with many important lessons of life under my wing, yet one, which I highly suggest you make note of, will forever remain top and centre: spaghetti carbonara is not a respectable menu option. The laugh of exasperation from your waiter will swiftly leave you more rouge than the glass of wine you quickly seek to hide behind. Instead, heed the advice of the proverb 'when in Rome...', and you'll soon be revelling in true delights of Roman cuisine, culture, art and fun.


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