Nice hotel service and nice location. Near the train and the bus station.
They call it the Eternal City. A phrase that feels almost trite until you stand alone, utterly dwarfed, beneath the Pantheon’s impossible dome, or trace your fingers over travertine worn smooth by two thousand years of passing hands. Rome isn’t just eternal; it’s immediate, visceral, a theatre of existence where the past isn’t preserved behind glass, but bleeds passionately into the vibrant, chaotic present. And experiencing it solo? That’s not loneliness; it’s liberation. It’s a conversation, intimate and profound, between your soul and the city’s timeless spirit.
My dialogue began at dawn, chasing the first honeyed light spilling across the Piazza Navona. Alone, you move differently. Unburdened by consensus or compromise, I followed whims: detouring down a cobbled *vicolo* heavy with the scent of baking cornetti, drawn by the sudden, breathtaking reveal of the Trevi Fountain, still relatively quiet. Tossing my coin wasn’t just a tourist ritual; it was a whispered promise to the city, a silent pact sealed in the cool morning air and the fountain’s roaring majesty. Solitude amplifies these moments – the crisp *click* of your heels on ancient stone, the unfiltered awe as Bernini’s marble figures seem to surge from the water, frozen in divine drama. You hear the city’s own heartbeat, the murmur of awakening life, the distant clang of a baker’s shutter, the splash echoing in the vast basin.
Wandering towards the Roman Forum, the sheer weight of history becomes palpable, almost a physical pressure. Alone, you can truly stop. You can perch on a sun-warmed block of tufa, gaze at the skeletal arches of the Basilica of Maxentius reaching defiantly towards a piercing blue sky, and let your imagination run riot. No commentary needed, no shared speculation required. Here, amid the ghosts of senators and centurions, the silence isn’t empty; it’s resonant. You feel the centuries compress. A stray cat sunning itself on Julius Caesar’s altar becomes a perfect, poignant metaphor for time’s relentless, indifferent march. The Colosseum looms nearby, its brutal grandeur undeniable. Observing it solo, you feel its dual nature more acutely – the awe-inspiring engineering marvel and the chilling echo of spectated suffering. It prompts introspection, a quiet contemplation on humanity’s enduring contradictions, impossible amidst a crowd’s chatter.
Then, the Pantheon. Stepping inside is like walking into the mind of God, conceived by mortals. The sheer scale, the perfection of the dome – that oculus open to the heavens – is humbling beyond words. A shaft of sunlight pierces the dusty interior, illuminating motes dancing like celestial dust. Sitting alone on a bench, head tilted back, the immensity washes over you. The whispers of fellow visitors fade into a reverent hush. You feel infinitesimally small yet profoundly connected to the generations who stood precisely here, awestruck, for millennia. Solitude allows this space for pure, unadulterated wonder. It’s not just seeing; it’s *feeling* the architectural genius, the spiritual ambition made stone.
But Rome isn’t just monumental stones; it’s vibrant, messy, delicious life. Crossing the Tiber into Trastevere, the atmosphere shifts. Narrow streets twist like tangled yarn, laundry flutters like colourful flags between ochre buildings, and the air thickens with the garlicky perfume of *cacio e pepe* and frying *carciofi*. Solo travel makes you porous. You notice the old men arguing passionately over espresso at a tiny bar, the clatter of plates from a hidden trattoria kitchen, the effortless elegance of a Roman woman navigating the cobbles in impossible heels. You slip into a *salumeria*, point at mysterious cheeses and glistening olives, and assemble a picnic feast. Finding a quiet step on Piazza Santa Maria in Trastevere, watching life swirl around the ancient basilica as you savour pecorino sharp enough to make your eyes wa
床墊很舒適,睡得最好的酒店,被子沒有被套,全是球, 毯子沒有被套,不太符合中國人住酒店的習慣,問印度人被子這麼薄怎麼沒有被套,上面還有頭髮,臟乎乎,被子和床單枕頭都不一個顏色,印度人説放心吧我們都消毒洗過了,睜着眼説瞎話,有免費水,有暖氣, 印度服務員不靠譜,説第二天送被子過來啥也沒有,有個女服務員比較靠譜。很熱情,要免費水也有,要啥都沒問題一。開始經歷的少以為印度人可能是忘了,經歷了三個印度服務員,都是**。處處刁難,處處針對,要什麼沒什麼,老闆在一個態度,老闆不在一個態度,應該有的也沒有,撒謊騙人成性,以後有印度人的店都不去了。The mattress is very comfortable and the best hotel for sleeping. The blanket is full of balls without a duvet cover, which is not in line with the habits of Chinese people staying in hotels. When asked why the Indian quilt is so thin without a duvet cover, with hair on top, dirty, and the blanket, sheets, and pillows are not of the same color. The Indian said, ”Don't worry, we have all disinfected and washed them.” They lied with their eyes open, there is free water, heating, and the Indian waiters are unreliable, The next day, there was nothing to bring the quilt over, and there was a waitress who was more reliable. Very enthusiastic, even if you want free water, everything is fine. At the beginning, few people thought that Indians might have forgotten. After experiencing three Indian waiters, they were all scumbags. Difficulty everywhere, targeted everywhere, nothing to ask for. The boss has one attitude, and if the boss doesn't have the same attitude, there should be no such thing as lying and deceiving people. In the future, even if there are Indian shops, they won't go.
Camera molto ampia e molto ben insonorizzata. Non ho usufruito della colazione, ma solo caffè al bar, 2eur al banco un po' caro. Hotel funzionale a pochi km dal metro Gessate, in zona tranquilla. Valida alternativa economica a chi preferisce la qualità stando fuori Milano.
YYuen NgaNice hotel service and nice location. Near the train and the bus station.
They call it the Eternal City. A phrase that feels almost trite until you stand alone, utterly dwarfed, beneath the Pantheon’s impossible dome, or trace your fingers over travertine worn smooth by two thousand years of passing hands. Rome isn’t just eternal; it’s immediate, visceral, a theatre of existence where the past isn’t preserved behind glass, but bleeds passionately into the vibrant, chaotic present. And experiencing it solo? That’s not loneliness; it’s liberation. It’s a conversation, intimate and profound, between your soul and the city’s timeless spirit.
My dialogue began at dawn, chasing the first honeyed light spilling across the Piazza Navona. Alone, you move differently. Unburdened by consensus or compromise, I followed whims: detouring down a cobbled *vicolo* heavy with the scent of baking cornetti, drawn by the sudden, breathtaking reveal of the Trevi Fountain, still relatively quiet. Tossing my coin wasn’t just a tourist ritual; it was a whispered promise to the city, a silent pact sealed in the cool morning air and the fountain’s roaring majesty. Solitude amplifies these moments – the crisp *click* of your heels on ancient stone, the unfiltered awe as Bernini’s marble figures seem to surge from the water, frozen in divine drama. You hear the city’s own heartbeat, the murmur of awakening life, the distant clang of a baker’s shutter, the splash echoing in the vast basin.
Wandering towards the Roman Forum, the sheer weight of history becomes palpable, almost a physical pressure. Alone, you can truly stop. You can perch on a sun-warmed block of tufa, gaze at the skeletal arches of the Basilica of Maxentius reaching defiantly towards a piercing blue sky, and let your imagination run riot. No commentary needed, no shared speculation required. Here, amid the ghosts of senators and centurions, the silence isn’t empty; it’s resonant. You feel the centuries compress. A stray cat sunning itself on Julius Caesar’s altar becomes a perfect, poignant metaphor for time’s relentless, indifferent march. The Colosseum looms nearby, its brutal grandeur undeniable. Observing it solo, you feel its dual nature more acutely – the awe-inspiring engineering marvel and the chilling echo of spectated suffering. It prompts introspection, a quiet contemplation on humanity’s enduring contradictions, impossible amidst a crowd’s chatter.
Then, the Pantheon. Stepping inside is like walking into the mind of God, conceived by mortals. The sheer scale, the perfection of the dome – that oculus open to the heavens – is humbling beyond words. A shaft of sunlight pierces the dusty interior, illuminating motes dancing like celestial dust. Sitting alone on a bench, head tilted back, the immensity washes over you. The whispers of fellow visitors fade into a reverent hush. You feel infinitesimally small yet profoundly connected to the generations who stood precisely here, awestruck, for millennia. Solitude allows this space for pure, unadulterated wonder. It’s not just seeing; it’s *feeling* the architectural genius, the spiritual ambition made stone.
But Rome isn’t just monumental stones; it’s vibrant, messy, delicious life. Crossing the Tiber into Trastevere, the atmosphere shifts. Narrow streets twist like tangled yarn, laundry flutters like colourful flags between ochre buildings, and the air thickens with the garlicky perfume of *cacio e pepe* and frying *carciofi*. Solo travel makes you porous. You notice the old men arguing passionately over espresso at a tiny bar, the clatter of plates from a hidden trattoria kitchen, the effortless elegance of a Roman woman navigating the cobbles in impossible heels. You slip into a *salumeria*, point at mysterious cheeses and glistening olives, and assemble a picnic feast. Finding a quiet step on Piazza Santa Maria in Trastevere, watching life swirl around the ancient basilica as you savour pecorino sharp enough to make your eyes wa
AAleRoTutto bene a parte la colazione... Ho dormito due giorni, la prima colazione è andata bene, i tavoli erano apparecchiati. La seconda mattina era di lunedì, dovevi apparecchiarti te la tavola... Che in un 4 stelle non è cosa... Chiesto spiegazioni... Non le hanno date...
LLenaKasselThis was just an amazing hotel! We were incredibly pleased! The case when we liked everything! The food in the restaurant was delicious, the rooms were beautifully decorated. Everything was clean, fresh and new! What was especially pleasing: shampoo, shower gel, body cream, soap were organically certified (Cosmos Organic), and in our time it is especially valuable to find cosmetics in hotels without aggressive additives, this is very captivating. We didn't even have to get out our jars of cosmetics. I wish this hotel further prosperity!