Do you remember the first time you felt at home in a new place? For me it was when my parents visited me in college in Baltimore, maybe my sophomore year. Weeks beforehand, I planned our every hour. Dim sum in the only Chinese restaurant that served it back then, the Baltimore Museum of Art, and a trip to Fell’s Point for Bertha’s Mussels. I felt like an adult because I knew Baltimore and they didn’t.
My brother studied in Florence his junior year and I visited him there when I was recently out of college. It was 1993 and he was the one to show me around. We took a train to Rome where he showed me the Circus Maximus (there’s barely a thing left) and we ate gelato and went to the Vatican City just as the Sistine Chapel closed for the day. Oops.
Our dad met us back in Florence and it’s the photos from that city that seemed to survive. I have no idea what happened to those from Rome.