From the very first time I had seen the Roman Forum on television, I was completely and helplessly enamored. The strongest feelings of awe and wonder washed over me as the ancient ruins filled the screen. Those images of the Forum were my motivation for crossing the pond and visiting Rome.
After much research online (thanks again, internet), I came to realize that the Roman Forum and the Colosseum were a package deal. A ticket for one included a pass for the other. I also learned that the lineups could be insanely long and the importance of purchasing a skip-the-line ticket in advance couldn’t be ignored. Luckily, buying the ticket online was extremely simple and I had my choice of date and time.
I arrived at the site about 20 minutes early (of course), and immediately saw what all the ticket fuss was about – the longest lineup I’ve ever seen was wrapping its way around the entire base of the massive Colosseum like a python entangling its prey. A digital sign pegged the wait time at about 3 hours. Wow. Compare that to the 5 minutes I spent booking my ticket online.
With a little time to spare before my ticket would be valid for entry, I snapped some beautiful photos of the largest ancient amphitheatre ever built. The Colosseum is truly iconic and its image is instantly recognizable to most, but standing in its magnificent shadow that day, I couldn’t help but be impressed by the grandeur of it all.
But those feelings were all erased by the metal detectors. Yes, you read that right. I stepped out of ancient Rome with my left foot and stepped into airport security with my right. I can’t even describe how awful it felt to see such an amazing site desecrated by our modern safety concerns. X-ray machines and beeping walk-through metal detectors have no place inside those ancient walls. Why the security screening could not take place outside the building is beyond me. I’m all about safety, but what a horrible first impression.
And sadly, my experience only went downhill from there. As an introvert, I’ve always had to strike a delicate balance between my love of travel and my hate for crowds. Usually I’m able to achieve this balance by choosing off-peak times, or by convincing myself to tolerate the crowds for a short period of time. But on this day, my level of tolerance was exceedingly low.
Herded along like cattle and packed in like sardines, I found myself securely entangled in the wretched human python. I also seemed to be a dwarf among giants, with large bodies blocking any chance of a view. This is not what I came here for. Not even close. No way was I about to spend an hour of my precious time like this. Or even another minute. Lucky for me, the Colosseum had always just been an afterthought – included in the ticket, like an opening band at a concert. It was the Forum I had come to see. And see it I shall!
Through the bobbing sea of heads, I spotted an arrowed sign that read “Gift Shop / Exit”. Never had there been a more beautiful sign. Shopping? Check. Escaping this hell? Check.
That gift shop was an oasis in an introvert’s desert. Not only was it teeming with the most interesting and intricate treasures, but it was not teeming with people. In fact, I was the only person in the shop. Ah yes, a delicate balance indeed!
And with that comes the perfect opportunity for a quick side note – allow me to take a moment to point out why solo travel really shines for introverts. Because I was by myself and committed to seeing the sights in my own unique way, I was able to spare myself the agony of spending another moment in that position. Imagine, if you will, that I had been traveling with a partner whose lifelong dream it was to experience the Colosseum. I would have been trapped and bitter, and as unflattering as this is going to sound, my attitude would have most likely ruined the day for us both. Nothing but the truth. Anyone who has traveled with a partner can relate, I’m sure. Solo travel brings with it an unbelievable amount of freedom – the freedom to choose, the freedom to bail, the freedom of never disappointing your travel partner…or yourself.
