Rom 26

It is always the Eternal City that draws me back, just as it did in 2015, 2021, 2022, 2024 and 2025. You would think I had seen everything by now, and yet every single time I am excited by it all over again, like a small child. The thing I missed most in Australia, and I say that without sugarcoating anything, was Italy. Or, affectionately, Eatery. Every time I tried to find something even remotely Italian Down Under, I was massively disappointed. The menu might say carbonara or pizza, but mushrooms have no business being in a carbonara, and what they called cheese and pizza dough was simply an insult. Meanwhile, back home, we worry about pineapple on pizza.

So, another milestone birthday and still a little time on the clock. What better reason could there be to head to Italy, or more precisely, Rome, for a few days? No major planning, no preparation. Dani wrote that she would get off work early and could take me to the station. That was it. Less than thirty minutes passed between booking the trip and arriving at the station, followed by a quick coffee, and I was on my way towards Stuttgart Airport, with the obligatory pre trip warm up at Fragola on Bismarckplatz. Into the plane and already airborne.

For a moment I wondered why the flight attendant remained seated for so long. Two air pockets later, I quickly understood why. We had a pretty bumpy flight all the way to the Alps. Luckily, I was squeezed in between a businessman with his elbows fully extended and Helen, an American woman living in Stuttgart who was heading off on a cruise with her husband. After her second Bloody Mary, we got into a conversation, and the businessman beside me got what was coming to him, so that eventually even his elbows folded in automatically. The power of loud gossip. Helen was full of praise for my excellent English, and I could only laugh at her. It may well be better than average, but to me it still feels as if I am trying to communicate in childlike language. German simply feels so much more familiar. Exactly, Helen said, again and again.

The moment I landed, I was hit by what I had missed so incredibly much since Queensland: 35 degrees and 80 percent humidity, lasting deep into the night. July in Rome. I could have known. I chose to ignore it. There are advantages, though: fewer tourists. Far fewer. There are sensible people after all.

What else is there to tell? I chose a hotel near Castel Sant’Angelo, which became my first destination on Friday morning. A cappuccino on top of Castel Sant’Angelo, happy birthday to me. I sat there for two or three hours, began thinking about the past, and slowly a smile appeared on my face. Then I carried on, back to the hotel through the midday heat, before heading out again in the evening. A walk around the Forum, the Colosseum, Circus Maximus, of course past the Palatine Hill, the usual. It is all still there and still in the best possible condition, just as it was all those years ago.

Then it was time for dinner at La Matziciana. I was standing outside right at opening time, because I know how crowded it can get. Solo? Si! They seated me in the middle of the room and apparently thought they were doing me a favour by putting two women next to me, who revealed themselves to be Australians relatively quickly, after exactly one sentence. The accent. Naaaauuurrr! And not the cute Sydney version either. Panic rose inside me. Birthday dinner next to two country bumpkins from Down Under.

I smiled and moved into observer mode. The two ladies ordered heavily from the menu but were unhappy with some of the dishes and changed them while ordering. After the antipasti, they asked the waiter whether they could cancel the rest of their order. They had only just arrived after a long flight and were no longer hungry after all. They paid and left without leaving a tip. Very Australian, really. The waiter remained friendly until they were out of the restaurant, and then came the famous word: “Cazzo!” The face. The look. The gesture. To say it in advance, I covered the two ladies’ tip on my birthday, because Marco really is an excellent waiter.

And I have to admit that Saturday was completely uneventful. I spent a long time sitting on the hotel rooftop terrace and doing nothing, before later strolling over to the Spanish Steps to take some photos. That was it. It does not get more spectacular than that.

Sunday, as always, no visit to Rome without the Palatine Hill. And I celebrated it as usual, until I found myself sitting by the old hippodrome again, sitting there for several hours, actually, simply reflecting. I had stood or sat in this place several times over the past few years. I let my thoughts pass by once again.

In 2024, I sat there thinking about emigrating to Australia. Whether it was ever really a serious thought is another question. I had only just signed my permanent contract. There were several reasons in favour of it. A sense of adventure was one of them. As for the others, well, let us just say it was better that way for everyone involved. As painful as the separation was for each of us, I think it was the best thing.

In September or October 2025, I sat there again, this time thinking about how best to make my way back home. My sense of adventure had been satisfied, and then I noticed something that is rare for me. I began to smile and feel at ease. Ever since returning to Germany, or rather Europe, I have hardly been able to get the permanent grin off my face.

And I began to think about it all and see Australia from a different perspective. Integration, my own integration, that is. It is not as though there had been no opportunities, looking back. There were possibilities and chances, and I think I let many of them pass by without noticing them. Why? Maybe I am like the Aussies after all and think I am better than everyone else? Who the fuck knows! At that moment, I did.

Fuck the money, fuck whatever it was I thought I wanted. I never wanted to emigrate, and I am happy to be back. And happiness, my friends, is a precious thing. The most precious thing we have. So I sat there and laughed. Laughed at myself and at the fact that everything had turned out exactly as it had. Then I walked towards the Colosseum, into a new day. In that spirit.