Imagine a dreamy eyed blond guy between the Trajan markets and the Altare Della Patria, the sun is setting in winter, quickly and faintly yellow. The night rises over the remains of the imperial fora like a wedding gown touches the ground in ceremonial serendipity, symbol of a magnificent past and expectation of a future of reinvention and growth. I have goosebumps when the illumination of the temple of Jupiter is turned on, swimming in a mixed imagining of feeling connected to the distant past, reinterpretations of the ancient world in games or movies and my current reading of the history of the caput mundi. My girlfriend is on her phone with her mom, that is to say not in the mood, and I'm greeted by a guy. "Where are you from? Italiano?" No Austrian. "A Falco, I love Falco!". I was ready to make friends, give my bank details and the deeds to my house to this man when A comes over, takes me by the hand and yells: "We don't have time for your crap!". No resistance, I get scolded for naïveté but what can you do, you dream or you don't. I was ready to dismiss Rome as a tourist trap and just eat some Saltimbocca, but it hit me like a brick in the face. This here has been built by people 2000 years ago, they might have been barbaric but have given their imprint on all of the world. Nothing is ever lost, as the philosophers say, the present contains all the collective visions of the future and all the collective visions of the past. Ancient Rome had united cultures from almost all over the world and they had a place in this society. The senate being an almost legendary institution that stayed here even as the capitals of the empire were dislocated to Ravenna or Milano and eventually a new one was formed in Byzantium. Ancient Rome fell, burned down but even back then treated as a unique place of culture that couldn't just be raised to the ground. When Christianity took over, it was the cities cultural treasure that made it so appealing to kings to adhere to the religion, at the same time claiming descendance from the Caesars, like Charlemagne did. The Popes understood themselves also as custodians, adding more often than replacing to it's miracles. And even in the second world war, people decided not to use it strategically in warfare because it was a place of culture. This continuity over time, despite all the changes and typical human misbehavior, at this level of cultural legacy, might be truly unique in the world and there is no way to avoid that. We make our way up the stairs to the Capitoline Hill where a couple is taking wedding pictures next to the Lupercal, the dress reflecting light and dragging mud like the glacier of history. Minerva still blessing this hill, Marcus Aurelius looking less like a self help guru on his horse, the chilly wind and drizzling rain carry flittering lights over the ruins. I don't care about facts and details anymore, but taking a breath here, your longs bulge with those of the whole human race, out of necessity, out of pride, out of expectation and even people selling broken cell phone chargers or ripping people off with cards are valid parts of a long, captivating story here. You might be reading not feeling any of this. That's very likely even. I am myself a sceptic and any back of the envelope calculation will lead you to the conclusion that most human achievement has been carried by a tiny fraction of the total count. Much more has been done to hold back, undo and regress than to make things better, go forward and upward. But it's a choice to feel one way or another. Is the world going to be a hostile, ugly place full of pettiness or rather a playground for enthusiasm, where every corner holds a key to your next great idea, every day makes you want to add something to the increasingly impressive list of unexpected changes we brought about? That day we passed by San Ignacio di Loyola, the lighting was just perfect, the ceiling fresco by Andrea Pozzo seems to be glowing and drawing you into the infinitely high heavens. There is a mirror, people line up to shoot a reel in it of course, but who cares? You wonder around, from chapel to chapel, where the reliefs are so vivid that the figures seem to step out of it, art and craftsmanship everywhere. I also do not care about religion, but it's no wonder that people believed in it, especially here. No matter where you go, the fact that other people cared so much about setting up this city, the buildings, the decoration makes abstract ideas come to life. Does it have to be stories about some higher power, to control people, to decide each others fate? No. But we all need to believe and a world where we pretend not to believe and what's worth, believe is taken over by people without vision, understanding or even good intentions, is a mistake. At night we skip all the bad and fancy restaurants and end up at the supermarket. The guy at the counter is polite and urges us to try pecorino di buffala, some bread and San Daniele ham. We had tried white truffles, amatriciana, carciofi but none of them were served in a cosy roman flat across a 17th century church whose bells rang unmistakibly just above our heads, nearby students having a good time in a trattoria. The next day we bought another one and the guy behind the counter smiled and joked. Another day, we went to Testaccio, passed a relatively new church which had interesting concrete arches whose corners were rounded to arrive at the cimetiero accatolico. It is mostly the resting place for British expats since the 18th century who could not be buried in catholic consecrated ground. Lots of artists and cats here, next to the only remaining pyramid in Rome, built by Cestus, already dreaming of the long distant past of another culture back in antiquity. In a corner of the lovely piece of gothic landscaping, the grave of John Keats and his friend. In front of it, two benches presumably donated in recent times with inscriptions: "My favorite place in the world" "I cannot rest from travel. I will drink life to the tees" Go to Paris to figure out the meaning of love and savoir vivre. Go to Berlin and be anti, rebel. Climb a mountain to tear up under the milky way like the forbears who raised Ziggurats, dive into the sea to imagine where life itself grew up, propel yourself above the Karman line to push the very frontiers of the possible and probable. Come back and go to a random place far from everyone else or with your favorite person and make it your dearest memory, unforgettable and meaningful. And then travel to Rome to shiver because millions have been here before you and found the meaning of life in dreaming up, dreaming far and dreaming big.