Villa Pamphili

A few weeks ago we discovered an amazing park called Villa Pamphili. It is like a diamond in the rough, water in the desert, a blanket on a cold night, a bright green oasis in the middle of an over-crowded, dirty city. The park goes on for miles and miles, and is all the green lushness you could ever want; complete with incredible fountains, petite flowers and enormous cypress trees scattered throughout the emerald grass. A lovely lake sparkles in the middle of the park while big white swans glide across it, and a small golden church even sits tucked away amongst the trees with bells that sing on the hour. The park is full of other runners, joggers, and beautiful Italian families and babies playing and laughing and living the life we came here for. The sun drenched the park one afternoon we went on a long run, and I felt like the park was almost magical. I stumbled upon an alcove where half-naked, Italian men around the age of 80 sun-bathed and tanned their already dark, brown skin. I giggled and jetted past them as the lake came into my view. I wasn’t sure if I was running for exercise, or running like a child runs from the excitement of such a beautiful setting.