While in Cannes this summer, three of my friends and I decided to take a long weekend to Rome. We visited the monuments, ate gelato, practiced our Italiano, and obviously it was fantistico, but, I’m not gonna lie, it’s been my least favorite of the cities I’ve visited in Europe.
First of all, it smells like straight up cat pee. Mixed with ass. Cat pee and ass. How do you say “yum” in Italian?
Second, our “hotel” was less than ideal. As in, we showed up, it was an apartment building with 100 doorbells, one of which was labeled “B&B Cialdini”; we didn’t get to check in until 11:00 pm; the “4 person room” consisted of 4 cots in a storage closet, literally not even the same building as in the pictures online; no one there spoke English or French (our fault for going to Italy without knowing any Italian); the promised “air conditioning” unit wasn’t even connected to the wall–FREE SAUNA, anyone?!; AND, as shown in the photo below, we kicked poor Miss Verena out of her room!
In addition, Hannah repeatedly stepped on my feet in stilettos for a solid minute before I exclaimed, “Shit, Hannah!” on the bus one night.
Oh, and my 83-yr-old host mom, Madame C, FORGOT I WAS GOING. She called the school all, “Lucy never came home last night!” and I was all, “You let me borrow your SUITCASE!”
To top it all off, Hannah and I were seriously ill the entire time. We blame it on drinking the tap water, though Trapp and Jimmy somehow dodged these digestive problems.
Also, everything was crazy expensive! But, hey, at least we got some cute pictures out of it…
As Blog is My Witness 
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