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About Rome

Alright, listen up, folks—brothel’s on my mind! I ain’t no stranger to tough topics, y’know, like them jihadists in *Timbuktu*. “The desert’s a harsh mistress,” like they say in that flick—same goes for brothels, I reckon. Hot damn, I’m sweatin’ just thinkin’ bout it! Fool me once, shame on—uh—shame on you, fool me twice—can’t get fooled again! That’s my motto when I’m ponderin’ them houses of ill repute.

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Then, I remember Marco’s festival. I head over to Piazza Castello. The place is buzzing! Food stalls everywhere, people laughing, music blasting. I grab a slice of arancini—best thing ever! I’m munching away, and suddenly, I see this old lady selling handmade jewelry. I can’t resist. I buy a necklace that looks like a tiny pot. It’s adorable!

I escaped heartbreak in romantic Sicily - and learnt why my relationship failed