A different Roman holiday: novelist Conn Iggulden on the city’s lesser-known wonders

28.05.2024 - 11:27 / theguardian.com / Julius Caesar

I have loved Rome all my life. I went first when I was 10, to stay in a convent. The highlight then was slipping into a cage with two guard dogs, convinced I had a gift for soothing savage beasts. Reader, I survived.

The most recent was in April this year, which involved being pickpocketed at the Circo Massimo metro station. Honestly, it was a privilege to encounter such professionals. Fagin would have called them “good boys” – all right, good girls, if you want the truth. A large, blousy lady blocked the door to the train as I got on, demanding to know something. Two of her companions pushed on alongside, then visibly realised their “mistake”. All three raced to get off before the doors shut. I was jostled in the middle and never even felt the dip. Another passenger told me what had happened as our train pulled away. No violence, ladies and gentlemen. More like street theatre – though the ticket price was a little high.

I have to go to Rome for research – honestly, I do. Over the years, I have walked the seven hills and visited all the usual places. It’s possible to see the Forum and the Colosseum and the Trevi Fountain and the Vatican in a day. You can walk down the Palatine hill to the Forum, knowing that Nero would have taken that route. You can visit the ruin of Pompey’s theatre, where Julius Caesar was murdered. Or just stand on bridges and watch the ancient Tiber flow.

I’m going to recommend a couple of amazing restaurants, but you can stop almost anywhere for some bucatini amatriciana or spaghetti carbonara, with a glass of red wine and perhaps an artichoke so creamy you can cut it with a spoon. Rome has wonders round every corner. Yes, there is too much graffiti, but it’s a living place after all.

In spring, the sun feels warm to Britons more used to rain. Men wear dark blue suits and women tailored jackets. It’s a serious city for them – but not for visitors. For us, it’s a place of little joys. Do go there, perhaps for a weekend before high summer, when the heat and crowds gather. Some places will stay with you for ever, even if you see them only once.

Any visitor should stop at the building known as the Pantheon for two reasons. One is to touch the granite columns that hold up the entrance. They are single pieces, each weighing about 60 tonnes. They were quarried in Egypt and transported here by ship and over land more than 2,000 years ago. To touch them is to touch the ancient world.

If you go inside, you’ll see the oculus, the circle in the middle of the dome that’s open to the sky. It pleases me to know that if you imagine the dome as the upper half of a sphere, the bottom half would graze the marble floor at your feet. The entire building is a demonstration of genius and not to be