Lost Rome for a Lira
The ten hour flight from Bombay landed at the Leonardo da Vinci international airport Rome on a chilly afternoon. As an amateur traveller wearing inadequate attire the cold was biting.
Twenty four years ago it was the start of my solo two month trip to Europe. Not finding the familiar face of my uncle who was the first secretary in the Indian Embassy to greet me, I started to feel anxious.
There was only one other passenger who had boarded from Bombay and travelled all the way to Rome. The others had either disembarked or joined from Kuwait. Ricardo was on his way back to his home in Milan after visiting India. I narrated my predicament and he guided me with the formalities.
The bus from the airport dropped us at Roma Termini (train station). The Indian Embassy on Via Venti Settembre was only a short distance from the station. The embassy staff told me that the first secretary and his family had left for Paris before my telex reached informing about my advanced arrival. He would return only after a couple of days.
Ricardo helped me find a hotel to stay for the night in Pizza Barberini at the centre of which is the famous Triton’s fountain. He left after inviting me to his home in Milan; which I did after a few days.
The next day I went to see the famous Trevi fountain. Legend has it that you will return to Rome if you throw a coin into the water over your shoulder with your back to the fountain. Having seen Rome, I saved the change. Now I wish for another visit but somehow or the other it doesn’t happen. I realise a Lira saved is Rome lost eternally.
NEBU GEORGE.
The ten hour flight from Bombay landed at the Leonardo da Vinci international airport Rome on a chilly afternoon. As an amateur traveller wearing inadequate attire the cold was biting.
Twenty four years ago it was the start of my solo two month trip to Europe. Not finding the familiar face of my uncle who was the first secretary in the Indian Embassy to greet me, I started to feel anxious.
There was only one other passenger who had boarded from Bombay and travelled all the way to Rome. The others had either disembarked or joined from Kuwait. Ricardo was on his way back to his home in Milan after visiting India. I narrated my predicament and he guided me with the formalities.
The bus from the airport dropped us at Roma Termini (train station). The Indian Embassy on Via Venti Settembre was only a short distance from the station. The embassy staff told me that the first secretary and his family had left for Paris before my telex reached informing about my advanced arrival. He would return only after a couple of days.
Ricardo helped me find a hotel to stay for the night in Pizza Barberini at the centre of which is the famous Triton’s fountain. He left after inviting me to his home in Milan; which I did after a few days.
The next day I went to see the famous Trevi fountain. Legend has it that you will return to Rome if you throw a coin into the water over your shoulder with your back to the fountain. Having seen Rome, I saved the change. Now I wish for another visit but somehow or the other it doesn’t happen. I realise a Lira saved is Rome lost eternally.
NEBU GEORGE.
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