We met our Colosseum tour guide, Francesca, at the Borghese Gallery, which is located at the edge of the park. If you're up for another museum after the Vatican, this is the one to see. Reservations are mandatory and you’re only allocated two hours inside, which may not seem like much, but it’s a relatively small museum and you should be able to see all of it in that time span. For what it lacks in size, it makes up for in quality of artwork. Every room that you enter has treasures in it. My favorite piece was the incredible Bernini sculpture, Apollo and Daphne.
       Daphne was Apollo’s first love. Unfortunately, this was not a natural love, but one born from a confrontation between Apollo and Cupid. Apollo was a great archer, but like many of the Gods, he was a little full of himself. Eros, known to most of us by his Roman name, Cupid, was also an archer, and his arrows were responsible for instilling the twists and turns of love and lust in a person's heart. One day, Apollo started bullying the young God. He made derogatory comments about Eros’ abilities as an archer, stating that, due to his small stature, his arrows would be weak and ineffective. The Gods were a vengeful group, known for punishing mortals as well as each other. They did not take kindly to being insulted. Eros scoffed and said, “Step off, old man. You don’t want a piece of this.” 
       Apollo was taken aback. He couldn’t believe the cockiness of this youngster. Not wanting to lose face, Apollo responded, “Well don’t sing it, bring it. Let’s see what you got.” 
       And that’s when Eros brought it. He struck Apollo with one of his gold-tipped arrows.
       Eros had two types of arrows. His gold-tipped arrows evoked desire and irresistible attraction, while the lead-tipped ones filled his victim with disgust and revulsion. Apollo immediately became inflamed with irrational desire and love for the river nymph, Daphne. But Eros wasn’t done yet. The clever young God then shot Daphne with a lead-tipped arrow. The more fervently Apollo pursued Daphne, the more she became nauseated by him. Perhaps this was an odd occurrence back in the day, but before I met my girlfriend, this spirited game of advance and retreat was just a normal Saturday night at the local bar for yours truly. Anyway, Apollo chased Daphne relentlessly across the face of the earth. Finally, Daphne, exhausted and terrified, cried out to her father, the river God, Peneus. As all gods of water posses the ability of transformation, Peneus transformed his daughter into a laurel tree. Suddenly her legs took root, and her arms grew into long and slender branches. Bernini captured this climatic moment and froze it in time.

       After our tour of the Borghese Gallery, Robin reminded us that we’d be meeting in the hotel lobby at 7PM and then walking to a nearby restaurant for our last supper together. Since this was the final full day of our tour, the afternoon was ours to do with as we pleased. I decided to spend a few hours in the park. There’s a lot to see and do, and one good way to survey your options is to peddle around on a bicycle. There are quite a few bike rental stands, and you have your choice between mountain bikes, tandem bikes, and even buggy bikes for four to five people. I managed to procure the somewhat less popular, “bike you shouldn’t ride if you have guy parts.” This particular model comes equipped with a seat that, at first glance, appears to be filled with foam padding but after sitting on it for fifteen minutes, you realize that it’s actually crammed full of wrenches and railroad spikes. It was like riding a mechanical bull if you replaced the bull with a fire hydrant. After an hour, I made the decision that I might want to have kids one day, so I dismounted and gingerly walked the bike back to the rental shop.

       At the end of the 18th century, an artificial lake was created in the middle of the park. On an island in the lake, a small Ionic temple was built, dedicated to Aesculapius, the God of healing. After my bike ride, I had a little healing of my own to do so I grabbed some food at one of the small cafes in the park, took my lunch to the lake, and found a shady bench next to the rowboat rental building. There was a young couple in a rowboat on the pond. Right away, I could see that this was a romantic gesture gone horribly awry. The guy manning the oars was rather wispy while the girl was easily twice his size. Sweat was pouring down his brow as he rowed like he was trying to prevent the small boat from being swept over Niagara Falls. In five minutes, they had moved about four feet from the dock. As I watched their vessel start to take on water and slowly sink, my heart went out to the aspiring Romeo. All he wanted was to treat his girl to a nice little cruise around the lake. If my girlfriend were there with me, I probably would’ve done the same thing. Of course, she would’ve had to do most of the rowing due to that lower back problem I have that prevents me from paddling a boat, cleaning the gutters, taking out the garbage, and remembering anniversaries, but still, it’s the thought that counts.

       Adjacent to the Villa Borghese are the impeccably tended Pincio Gardens. Situated between the old city walls and the Piazza del Popolo, this small park, high on top of a hill, is filled with a large assortment of statues, beautiful fountains, an obelisk, and even an interesting water clock. From the terrace at the edge of the park, the view of Piazza del Popolo and the city beyond is one of the best overall vistas of Rome. I could’ve easily spent the rest of the day enjoying the serenity of the park, but there were still a few sights that I wanted to see before dinner.
       My first stop was the Church of Santa Maria del Popolo. I was pretty churched out at this point, but the two Caravaggios in a side chapel were worth the visit. You’ll find that there's really only one spot in a corner of the chapel that provides a decent view of each painting. You may also find that little old ladies who really want to see the paintings will step on you and push you out of the way in order to get to that optimum vantage point. I’m a very passive, non-confrontational type of person, but after being rudely bumped a few times, even I was beginning to wonder exactly how many Hail Marys I’d have to say as atonement for introducing the toe of my boot to an old lady’s backside.

       One of my fondest wishes is to never be exposed to the smell of other people’s urine. That wish was not granted at the much-neglected Mausoleum of Augustus. The oppressive smell, combined with the broken bottles and garbage strewn about made my decision to ignore this ancient structure an easy one. 
       Walking swiftly past the mausoleum, I continued my journey across Rome, past the Victor Emmanuel Monument, the Capitoline Museum, and the Theatre of Marcellus, before arriving at the Church of Santa Maria in Cosmedin. In the portico of the church, you’ll find the Bocca della Verita, more commonly known as The Mouth of Truth. It’s basically an ancient lie detector test. According to the famous Roman legend, if you have lied without forgiveness, your hand will be bitten off when you insert it into the mouth of this large marble mask. I didn’t test the theory. It’s not that I feared losing an appendage; it’s just that the small opening looked dark and ominous and I thought there might be snakes or scorpions hiding in there. What? Like that’s completely out of the realm of possibility? You stick your hand in there then. But don’t come crying to me when poisonous venom is streaming through your veins.

       It was late afternoon and my legs were tired but there was still one more thing I wanted to see. Curiosity carried me to one of the best-preserved monuments of ancient Rome; the Pyramid of Caius Cestius, which was built in 12 B.C. There’s no way that you can let me find out that there’s a two thousand year old pyramid in Rome and not expect me to seek it out. That’s like putting a plate in front of me, telling me that it’s extremely hot and then somehow expecting me not to touch the plate to verify your claim. Impossible.
       Since you can’t enter the pyramid, I only stayed long enough to take a few pictures before I crossed the street to the metro stop and rode the subway back to the hotel. I arrived with just enough time to put on a fresh shirt before meeting the group in the lobby. 
       Speaking of shirts, to keep my luggage light, I only packed a few for my trip. I knew that I’d have to wash them every two or three nights, and since cotton takes longer to dry, I only brought 100% polyester shirts to make life easier for me. Polyester is not only fast-drying but it also wicks away moisture from your body. In theory, that sounds pretty fantastic, until you realize that it also wicks away odor from your body and then proceeds to dump it on anyone standing within ten feet of you. After a day of walking around, there were times when I’d suddenly stop, shrivel up my nose and look around expecting to see a decaying farm animal lying on the side of the road. Nope. It was just little old me. Thanks, polyester. Much appreciated.

       For me, one week was the perfect amount of time to spend in Rome. The first couple of days, I experienced a little inner-frenzied panic to make the most of my time, but as the days passed, I realized that a trip to Rome is about choices; you simply can’t see it all. While almost every visitor will make it a point to see the Colosseum, the Forum, the Pantheon, and the Vatican, after that it starts to become a bit more subjective. Pick up a reputable guidebook and read it thoroughly before you get to Rome. Works by Michelangelo, Caravaggio, and Bernini can be seen for free if you know where to find them. Some of Rome’s lesser-known churches are havens for artistic masterpieces. Above all, reserve some time to do as the Romans do. Wake up early and go to the market in Campo de’ Fiori. Walk the streets near Piazza Navona or the Spanish Steps. Cross the Tiber and have dinner in Trastevere. Buy a tub of gelato and wander around. Rome is a city made for exploring. 

       Seven days after it began, it was time to write the last chapter of this Best of Rome tour. When I originally made the decision to travel to Italy, I was hesitant about joining a tour. I’ve always enjoyed traveling solo because it gave me the opportunity to do everything at my own pace, and I was never pressured to derail my agenda to conform to someone else's schedule, interests, or stamina. But, despite the freedom, there are downsides to it. Since I'm not the most extroverted person, I usually don’t meet that many people when I travel. I’ll go out for dinner at a restaurant or grab a drink at a bar but being a social butterfly doesn’t come naturally to me. Initiating conversations with strangers can be intimidating, especially in a country where you don’t speak the language. 
       As I looked around at the twenty-four smiling faces that surrounded the table during our last supper together in Rome, I realized that, in the past, when the thought of joining a tour crossed my mind, I always focused on the possible negative aspects, and I never considered how traveling with a group could positively impact my trip. On this tour, I never felt restricted. I always had ample time to go off and explore on my own, but I also appreciated having Robin as a full-time tour guide every day. As for the group, everyone had the same great enthusiasm and attitude about traveling, and I looked forward to seeing familiar faces every morning when we met in the hotel lobby to begin another day together. 

       As was the case with almost all the meals I had in Rome, the food during our last supper was delicious. I got to try the popular liqueur, Limoncello, which I’m assuming is lemons fertilized with battery acid. Luckily, the subsequent mass suicide of tens of thousands of my taste buds couldn’t put a damper on the evening. It was great to unwind, laugh, and share stories with the gang one last time. This week I not only fulfilled a dream to come to Rome but I got to do it with a great group of people. So while I was slightly disheartened to see the journey come to an end, it was impossible not to feel elated and grateful to have experienced it at all.