I love Italy and was lucky enough to visit there a few times when I lived in England. More than forty years ago, on a high school trip, I threw a coin into Rome’s Trevi Fountain since local lore states that if you throw a coin into the fountain, you will one day return to Rome. Recently, that wish finally came true.

I am delighted to report that the fountain apparently honors its commitments, although its timetable leaves something to be desired. Even by the standards of a British woman accustomed to waiting patiently in queues, four decades is quite a delay!

The Trevi Fountain (“Fontana di Trevi” in Italian) is probably my favorite part of Rome, has a history that predates the 1600s, and it’s the most well-known fountain in the world.

“Trevi” is a mashup of the Italian words “tre,” meaning “three” and “vie,” meaning “roads,” because the fountain was constructed at the intersection of Rome’s then three most important thoroughfares.

Today, we know that the original design of the Trevi was more utilitarian than artful, as it was used as Rome’s source for naturally pure and potable water by way of another great feat of engineering by the ancient Romans, the aqueduct. It wasn’t until many years later that the Trevi Fountain got its Baroque makeover, thanks to a commission from Pope Urban VIII, who had the fountain redesigned and renovated by one of Italy’s most famous sculptors, Bernini.

Returning to somewhere you first knew when you were young is a curious experience. The main difference is the increased number of crowds and barriers around accessing the fountain and other famous monuments. If my memory serves me correctly, it was just a case of wandering up to the fountain, taking photos with our old-fashioned film cameras and throwing in a coin worth a few lira (the Italian currency which predated the Euro). It was a poignant experience as I found myself remembering the person I was when I first saw it. My earlier visit belonged to a chapter long before Coastal Georgia became home. Between then and now have come family milestones, working life and all those ordinary commitments that somehow turn “I must go back” into forty years.

Rome, of course, has rather more experience of the passing centuries than I do. Being called the Eternal City must take some of the pressure off worrying about birthdays and work schedules! Back in England, the land of my birth, we are rightly proud of our history, while here in Georgia I love Savannah’s beautiful historic squares. But Rome makes even a British visitor reconsider what counts as old.

What strikes me about the Italian capital is how casually its extraordinary history fits into everyday life. Ancient remains share the city with busy roads, shops and people simply trying to get to work. Imagine giving directions that involve turning left near something almost two thousand years old. It puts arguing with the satellite navigation about the correct exit into perspective.

There is also something reassuring about returning to a city whose great landmarks have outlasted so many changes. The Colosseum still demands your attention, and the Pantheon remains an astonishing achievement.

Its present building dates from the reign of Emperor Hadrian in the second century. The famous opening in its dome, called the oculus, admits daylight and rain. Apparently, even an architectural masterpiece cannot escape the occasional problem with the weather.

Thinking about that original coin made me smile.

When you are young, forty years sounds like an impossible stretch of time, something belonging to your parents or grandparents. Then, rather inconveniently, you discover that you have accumulated those years yourself.

You are still interested in travelling and seeing the world, although you may have become considerably more interested in comfortable shoes. I was lucky to share this special trip with close friend and frequent partner in travel adventures, who I met at in my university days a short time after my first trip to Rome back in the 1980s.

Travel has certainly changed since my first visit.

Today we can carry maps, tickets, cameras and restaurant information in one telephone.

There is much to appreciate about that convenience, although I suspect we sometimes spend so much time recording where we are that we forget to look properly.

There is a particular pleasure in revisiting somewhere without feeling obliged to conquer it. I am less interested these days in collecting sights at speed and more inclined to appreciate what is in front of me. This seems an entirely reasonable approach in a country that offers some very persuasive excuses to sit down, including coffee, wine, pasta and gelato.

Most of all, returning reminded me that wishes sometimes require a little practical assistance. The coin played its part, but actually going back meant making time for something I had wanted to do for years. It is surprisingly easy to postpone simple pleasures while attending to everything that seems more urgent.

Perhaps that is why the coin tradition endures. Among all the grand buildings and famous names, it gives each visitor a personal connection to Rome. My own connection survived rather longer than I had ever expected it to.

There is more information about Rome and its famous fountain at www. turismoroma. it I will say goodbye this week with the familiar saying, “Rome wasn’t built in a day.” Clearly, neither was my return visit. Still, after more than forty years, I am happy to confirm that some wishes are worth the wait. If there is another Roman holiday in my future, however, I would appreciate a somewhat quicker turnaround.

But I love being home again, so God bless America!

Lesley grew up in London, England and made Georgia her home in 2009. She can be contacted at lesley@lesleyfrancispr. com or via her PR and marketing agency at www. lesleyfrancispr. com