Is it weird that I’m not even a little sore from all the stairs yesterday? Italy, in general, has reactivated all of my muscle groups. I should really take advantage of this and make friends with a StairMaster when I get back.

Last night I had to finish my blogging while standing because I absolutely could not keep my eyes open sitting down. The things we do for mediocre journalism… okay, mediocre travel blogging at best.

We had a slow-ish start to the morning, but that would eventually change. We booked tickets on the Campania Express train to Naples, the draw being that it stops less often than the Circumvesuviana and is allegedly air-conditioned and whatnot. However, it’s not faster. The benefit is really just confirmed seats and the fact that you’re riding with a bunch of other tourists.

The train ended up leaving on time but arriving in Naples about 15 minutes late, which gave us roughly 20 minutes before our next train. No time for coffee, unfortunately, so we had to push through some people and speed-walk to the upper level where all the real trains are. I say “real” because now we’re finally back to the air-conditioned, comfy-womfy intercity trains. No more southern train lines with “flexible” schedules and routine pandemonium.

I loved Sorrento, but I am a little happy that we’re leaving the south.

Tomorrow we head home and back to our normal, boring (but blessed) lives. On the train, we received an alert to check in for our flight tomorrow, and they were offering business class upgrades for our first leg (the long one) at an absurdly low rate. Normally I can’t justify paying for an upgrade, but like I said—super cheap, and our flight was free to begin with. So… justified. I will probably be going on a financial diet for a while after this.

Side note: some of Italy’s most beautiful areas are between the big cities. Photos from the train.

Ahhhh, home sweet Rome.

Don’t worry—we grabbed coffee as soon as we got to Roma Termini.

We got to our room at about 2 p.m. We booked our first Airbnb again for our last night so we would know exactly where to go and stay in a familiar neighborhood. When we first arrived two weeks ago, the apartment felt small and the bathroom super tiny. Now, after being in several other places (Florence excluded), this one feels quite spacious.

Rome feels like home base. There’s a certain familiarity to it now. Also, compared to Sorrento, it feels like stepping into the modern world where transportation is abundant and all forms of payment are accepted.

Immediately, we were on a mission to eat as much good food as possible and squeeze in one last round of shopping before leaving tomorrow. I had a whole list of spots pinned on Google Maps—some from me, some from fellow Rome veterans. When I was planning this trip, I fully expected to stumble upon maritozzo con la panna on every corner—basically a sweet bun sliced open and stuffed with whipped cream—but it turned out to be much less common than I thought. So naturally, we made it a mission to track one down and ended up finding it at Pasticceria Parenti near the Vatican.

From there, we made our way to St. Peter’s Square for one last look. The line to get into the basilica wrapped all the way around the square, but we had no intention of joining it. Instead, we found a spot right in the middle, sat on some steps, and just took it all in. The breeze was perfect, the sun was aggressively burning through my black pants, and somehow it all balanced out.

Gian Lorenzo Bernini was the artist I was assigned for a presentation during my study abroad, so being back here felt oddly full-circle—like reconnecting with something I didn’t realize had stuck with me.

From there, we bussed to Pizza Florida, which we missed at the beginning of the trip because it was closed. This time it was open—with no line, no waiting—and we finally got to try the YouTube-famous street pizza.

Was it delicious? Yes. But as much as I don’t love Naples, their pizza is still the best. As it should be, since it’s practically their religion… along with football.

Side note: all day Matt has been wearing an AS Roma “Totti” jersey, which is basically the equivalent of wearing a Michael Jordan jersey, but for football. Totti is one of their greatest players, now retired. I was a little concerned about him wearing it in Naples—they practically worship Maradona there—but we got no reaction.

In Rome, however, Matt was getting a lot of positive attention. People—including the police—were telling him “great shirt,” shouting “Totti,” and giving compliments, often followed by warnings to beware of pickpockets. I tried to figure out if the jersey meant something, but it turns out the warnings were just a gesture of kindness toward someone who seemed approachable.

At one point, two cars were stuck in a standoff, both trying to get the other to move. Somehow Matt’s jersey broke the tension—one of the drivers yelled at him to change his shirt, and suddenly everyone forgot about the traffic jam and started laughing about Totti.

By this point, Matt still hadn’t found the leather bag he wanted, and I was still curious how much more we could fit in our luggage. So we kept wandering—from souvenir shops to leather stores—until we somehow ended up with two new leather bags, two leather belts, and some accessories.

Oops.

Oh well. When in Rome…

It was finally time for dinner, and we decided to try Trattoria Da Enzo al 29, a spot highly recommended by a friend. It’s on the other side of town and not serviced by the metro, so we took a taxi.

According to Google, Thursday nights are busy but usually have no wait.

Oh, contraire.

There was an endless line, and it’s a very small restaurant. It was already nearing 8 p.m., with an expected two-hour wait. I had Matt stay in line while I looked for a backup.

Alas—one more carbonara and lasagna al ragù later, and we were satisfied.

Well… almost.

We went back to the gelato shop near our apartment because I needed to have the best dark chocolate gelato in all of Rome one more time. It’s so good I genuinely don’t understand how there isn’t a line wrapped around the building.

It worked out for us, though.

We chatted with the server, who asked whether he should vacation in New York or Los Angeles next year. A tough call for me, as a suburban woman—but I’ll let you guess what I voted for.

We got back to the apartment just after 10 p.m.

Now it’s time to see if everything we bought fits in our bags… and what, if anything, needs to be sacrificed.

Only time will tell.