Travel

A few summers back, I found myself in Rome, elbow to elbow in a crowd outside the Trevi Fountain, half-suffocated by selfie sticks and the collective hum of 500 voices bouncing off marble. I’d dreamt of seeing it since I was a teenager, but in the moment, I felt nothing but irritation. My legs ached, the heat was relentless, and I realized I’d spent the last three days in a blur of lines, tickets, and “must-sees.” By the time I got back to my hotel, I wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and avoid sightseeing altogether.