The Roman Pantheon at night–miraculously without all those little blue LED flying toys all the vendors sell out front.

And suddenly we were in Rome, stumbling through the ancient ruins like the subjects of some awful experiment on sleep deprivation. After two days staying up wayyyyy too late at my college reunion pretending I was 21 again, followed by a long day of walking in New York capped by a trans-Atlantic redeye, I was toast.

Still am, actually, which is why I’ll be keeping this post short and to the point: We made it to Italy, and our trip-of-a-lifetime is finally underway.

I was so excited about the lay-flat seats in Delta Business Class that I couldn’t sleep a wink (there must be a DSM-5 name for this pathetic condition). After checking in at Hotel Campo de’Fiori, we strolled over to the Capitoline Hill to soak in the view of the ancient Roman Forum. Then it was off to the Doria Pamphilj Gallery where we both fell asleep with our ears pressed to the audio guide in one of the palazzo’s sumptuous rooms.

At this advanced age, there’s no shame in a good afternoon nap (hell, there’s pride in it). So we did that, and then had a pleasant but unremarkable dinner at Hosteria Farnesi near our hotel. A nighttime stroll around Piazza Navona and past the Pantheon sapped what remaining energy we had, and so it was time to call it an earlyish (depending on what time zone you’re using) night.

I still love Rome as much as I did the first time I came here a dozen years ago. It’s loud and dirty and nerve-wracking, but it feels so alive for city with thousands of years of buried history. That first glimpse of the Temple of Saturn from Campidoglio always stops me in my tracks as I confront how “old” in Rome carries an entirely different meaning from the same word back in Northern California.