Fontana Di Trevi
"You want to go to Trevi fountain? We take you, we know eh shortcut."
I guess they had overheard Rose ask the middle aged Italian man on the corner how to get there, but he didn't speak any English so we were out of luck.
"Eh? It not too far."
"Um. We can find our own way, thanks. Grazi."
In their thick accents, neither of them Italian, they pushed for us to go with them as they would take us to the Trevi Fountain which we couldn't seem to find. After walking in circles for 24 minutes, it didn't seem such a bad idea.
It was getting dark, quarter past six, and we would liked to have found the fountain before needing to find food. But – traveling somehow always resulted in walking through dark allies with strange foreign men. Isn't that what everybody does these days?
We followed them into the night, and after every turn of every corner, I trembled. Then we took our supposed last turn down a long alleyway and that's when I felt like dying. Rose and I walked side by side, with the men in front. But within seconds, one was in front and the other behind. I felt uneasy.
Fontana di Trevi was "just around the corner."