Giornale 5: Campo de Fiori

It's easy to find yourself in the many open spaces of Rome: the first night we arrived in the city, a few of us, led by Dan, walked home, weaving our way through the vacant piazzas to get back to Prati. Since then, it's been typical of us to stumble into some piazza or another without intending it beforehand. The Piazza Santa Maria in Trastavere is perhaps my most frequent haunt, since I so often go with friends to Trastavere for dinner, passing by the tall church and the fountain that we sat around on our first day nearly two weeks ago. The Piazza del Popolo snuck up on me when I, with a small group, took the Metro to Flaminio in order to find the Galleria Nazionale d'Arte Moderna—a rather barren piazza to be honest, compared to the tiny but beautiful Piazza della Rotunda and the proud Pantheon that overlooks it and its obelisk. But the Campo de Fiori is the one I love the most, I think. If I had been to the Piazza della Rotunda more, maybe sat by the temple's massive columns or curled up on the stairs of the obelisk, maybe I'd be writing this journal about that square. Because I love the Pantheon and its odd shape, its maintained exterior that is so at odds with the church that lies within, and the clouds that pass over the oculut thes. But the Campo de Fiori has so much life to it. I never fail to feel happy when I find myself there.

The Campo de Fiori is atypical of all other piazzas because it houses a fleet of markets every day, selling anything from cookery to penis-shaped pasta to fresh fruit. The obvious tourist tents are there, selling miniature models of the Roman lupa and the Colosseum, as well as the abundant tents displaying clothing and jewelry for "cheap." Unfortunately, the markets close at two or three, but when I go (and it's always around lunch for some reason), negotiations and advertising are in full swing. And the food is my favorite part. The oranges are huge, far bigger than my head, and the strawberries practically melted in my mouth when I bought them, so soft and ripe. They're so full of color and health, and some places even sell fruit cups, teeming with watermelon, grapes, strawberries, pineapple, and anything else, always fresh. There are shops along the side streets, one of which I bought a dress in, and there's even a crepe shop (and I regret not returning to buy a crepe there); there are bars and restaurants lining the square, forni (bakeries) that sell delicious sandwiches, sweets, and cold pizzas, and even a deli, where Alissa, Carolyn, and I one day stopped in and then subsequently stuffed ourselves on salami (sans Carolyn), a mozzarella ball, and cheese puffs. At night, when the tents are cleared away, the square fills with people enjoying their (somewhat expensive) meals and 5+ euro drinks, strolling around without fear of open container laws. It's a whole different world in the Campo, bustling with people in a way that the other piazzas—save maybe Trastavere—really experience. It feels far less tourist-y, even if it attracts many tourists (myself included), and it's just fun: easy to immerse yourself in the culture of buying and eating fresh food, of window shopping and lingering, of getting a drink at night and watching some friends cartwheel their way down the square. I've been to the Campo several times now, and I have a lot of good memories of it. When I go home Sunday, I will sorely miss it.