When in Rome: Three Days in the Eternal City

A surprise 40th birthday trip, a heatwave, a wrong turn at the Vatican and plenty of gelato. Lauren Regan shares three unforgettable days in Rome.

By Lauren Regan. 

For my partner’s 40th birthday in July, I booked a surprise three-day trip to Rome.

The plan was beautifully orchestrated, a work of genius even if I do say so myself. We already had tickets to see Ludovico Einaudi at London’s O2 Arena, so everything was timed to perfection. Flying from Manchester gave us three days in Italy before flying back into the capital and heading straight to an evening of soaring piano music.

Now, an important fact to know is that my partner has spent most of our relationship talking almost exclusively about one destination.

Rome.

Rome, Rome, Rome, Rome, Rome.

Top of the bucket list. Dream destination. Number one on the bingo card.

Then, about a week before we left, while I was still proudly keeping the surprise under wraps, he casually announced that, actually, had he ever mentioned that he had always wanted to visit Scandinavia?

Well. That would have been interesting to know a few months ago, babe. 

Thankfully, when I finally revealed the destination, Rome was immediately back to being the greatest city on earth.

I’d booked for us to stay in Trastevere, a neighbourhood on the west bank of the River Tiber known for its cobbled streets, ivy-clad buildings and lively restaurant scene. It feels slightly removed from the intensity of central Rome while still being close enough to walk almost everywhere.

We stepped off the plane into a full-blown heatwave and, in an effort to cool down on our first evening, we wandered into Piazza di Santa Maria in Trastevere, the historic and cultural heart of the district, where diners spilled out across the square beneath the glow of the basilica. A short walk away, Piazza Trilussa was already buzzing with musicians, tourists and locals enjoying the evening air. Naturally, we stopped for gelato, the first and possibly the best of the trip, and decided there and then that it would be illegal to not have one every day we were here.

The following morning, with nowhere specific to be until our 4pm Colosseum booking, we grabbed iced coffees and decided to take a slow walk to Vatican City.

A decision that seemed sensible at 9am, less so by 11am when the sun was beating down and shade was at a premium. We bought tickets from a lovely lady who assured us we could see everything we needed in around 90 minutes. This was categorically untrue.

The Vatican Museums are immense. Not large, not impressive. Immense. Endless galleries unfold into more galleries, each filled with masterpieces, sculptures, maps, tapestries and ceilings so ornate they make your neck ache from looking upwards.

Before you even reach the Sistine Chapel, you’ve already seen enough art to fill several lifetimes. Unfortunately, after navigating what felt like a labyrinth of corridors and exhibition halls, we somehow managed to take a wrong turn and exit the building before reaching the Sistine Chapel: the entire reason we had come.

A polite but firm conversation followed with an armed guard.

“You go over there, outside… and you stay there.”

I briefly considered making our case.

John pointed out that the guard had a gun and, statistically speaking, he was probably the one who was going to get shot, not me.

Fair point.

Perhaps sensing the genuine despair on my face, or maybe it was the divine work of someone ‘upstairs’, but the guard eventually allowed us to rejoin the security queue and re-enter, and I will be forever grateful. The Sistine Chapel is smaller than many people imagine, but no photograph prepares you for standing beneath Michelangelo’s ceiling. Every inch is covered in colour, movement and detail; it’s overwhelming in the best possible way. Thousands of visitors stand shoulder to shoulder, yet somehow the room still feels reverential.

Tickets cost us around €60 each, and while that initially felt steep, I’d happily pay it again. Just remember your ID and allow far more time than you think you’ll need.

After an obligatory slice of pizza (margherita for John, artichoke for me), we jumped in a taxi to the Colosseum. The two places are walkable, but we were running late and I quite fancied a sit-down out of the sun.

Nothing really prepares you for seeing the Colosseum in person. It dominates the landscape, standing proudly amid the modern city despite being almost 2,000 years old. Around it, the Roman Forum and Palatine Hill stretch out across acres of ruins, temples and ancient streets.

For several hours we simply wandered. No rushing, no particular route, just meandering through the remains of one of history’s greatest civilisations until around 7pm when we reluctantly headed back to the hotel to get ready for dinner.

That evening we joined the queue at Enzo al 29. They don’t take bookings, basically because they don’t need to.

The tiny Trastevere restaurant has become something of a celebrity hotspot, helped along by TikTok and countless travel guides. The queue can be eye-wateringly long, but persistence pays off and in the end we only waited about 40 minutes for a table.

By this time it was about 10.30pm, so everything looked and smelled delicious, but despite being seated beside a family having what appeared to be a deeply uncomfortable discussion about the attitude of their teenage daughter, we enjoyed one of our favourite meals of the trip: burrata, fried artichokes, fresh pasta and local wine.

Very Roman and very worth the wait.

The next day began with a food tour led by the wonderful Romana. One thing about me is that I love a good food tour. Yes, there’s food involved, but it’s the stories that really stay with me.

We met beneath the statue of Giordano Bruno in Campo de’ Fiori. As we gathered, an elderly woman approached the monument and quietly placed a flower at its base, and Romana explained why.

Unlike many Roman squares, Campo de’ Fiori has no church overlooking it; instead, it marks the site where Bruno was burned alive as a heretic in 1600. Bruno was a philosopher, astronomer and scientist who challenged accepted thinking about the universe in the sixteenth century.

Centuries later, a statue was erected in his honour, and today he stands facing directly towards the Vatican, a permanent reminder that ideas can outlive those who try to silence them. It was exactly the sort of story I love discovering while travelling, the kind that gives a place depth and texture beyond the guidebooks, and the food was excellent too.

Following a restorative afternoon spent largely avoiding the heat, we joined Michael, a guide offering historical walking tours of Rome. Michael is originally from Philadelphia, has lived across Europe and now calls Rome home, and his enthusiasm for the city was infectious.

Over the course of the evening we explored the Spanish Steps and the Trevi Fountain, but also some of Rome’s less obvious treasures. We ventured into a modern department store to see the remains of an ancient Roman aqueduct still flowing beneath the building and learned how a McDonald’s in the shadow of ancient Roman buildings helped inspire Italy’s Slow Food movement.

It was fascinating, unexpected and exactly why local guides are worth seeking out when you visit a new city.

On our final evening, we climbed Gianicolo Hill, known in English as the Janiculum.

As the sun began to set, the city stretched out before us in shades of gold and terracotta. Around us sat a wonderfully Roman mix of people: young friends sharing drinks, couples watching the skyline, nuns chatting quietly on benches and tourists trying to capture the perfect photograph.

It was one of those travel moments where nobody really needs to say anything; you simply sit and watch.

Eventually we wandered back down the hill and reminisced about our favourite parts of the trip, and what we would like to do when we inevitably come back. A word of warning: if you dislike bats, this may not be your ideal route after dark.

Near our hotel we stumbled across a traditional trattoria. Now, at the risk of being “Adriana-ed”, I’m fairly certain some of Rome’s more colourful characters may have considered this their local. Whatever the clientele, the food was delicious, the wine was inexpensive and it felt like exactly the right way to spend our final night in the city.

The following morning our flight departed at 9am and a few hours later we were back in London with enough time to swap cobbled Roman streets for the O2 Arena and watch Ludovico Einaudi take to the stage.

Another Italian great and a fitting finale to three unforgettable days.

Which, thankfully, included no mention whatsoever of Scandinavia.

Lauren Regan is the founder and creative director of MOLE, a brand storytelling and PR consultancy.

Crafting a meaningful brand story is within reach for every organisation. MOLE works with businesses in the UK and Canada to find their voice, tell their stories, and shape their future. To speak to Lauren about your organisation’s ambitions, reach out on lauren@weraremole.com