Our short week in Egypt prepared us for what could have been a horrible culture shock as we landed in Rome. In the last two weeks, we had been in 5 different countries (Uganda, Kenya, Qatar, Egypt and now Italy), going from a small island without electricity in East Africa to four-star hotels in the Middle East to now what would be our biggest expense thus far on the trip: a Best-Western Hotel in Rome.

We had looked into staying in hostels in Rome, but with the declining value of the dollar and between paying for two beds in a hostel, we decided it was worth the extra money to get a hotel and clean up. And my colleagues at Fenton had given us traveler’s checks to spend on a nice hotel in Shanghai (oh well), so we logged on to Hotwire.com and agreed to a “mystery 3-star hotel in the city center, just a few stops away from Terminal Station.”

We were able to get to the hotel by the subway (ahem, metro) and were pleased by the crystal clean bathroom and the rolls of toilet paper provided (oh, how our standards have changed). We had a balcony with great views of the city, but that night, as we tried to go out for a night on the town, we discovered our “few stops” from Terminal Station but us off the map… literally. It was a trek to get back into the cute neighborhoods in the city, so we instead decided to go out in our own neighborhood.

The front desk receptionist directed us to an area about 5 blocks away from our hotel, and at 7pm, we headed out to find dinner. What we discovered was that 7pm was way too early to be eating. All of the restaurants were deserted.

After a half hour, we decided we were too hungry to wait and found a cute enoteca that was screaming our names. Despite not speaking any English and not having a guidebook to help us with the language, the waitress was more than happy to serve us. We ordered cheese, sausages and wine, and a pasta carbonera. It was the first cheese we had eaten in months (a major sacrifice for anyone who knows us) and we almost melted onto the floor eating it.

Feeling like losers, we retired early for the night, still exhausted from our Egypt sprint and unable to keep up with the European concept of late nights.

The next morning, we ventured out in our hotel for the “free breakfast” that was supposed to be included in our room cost. We weren’t expecting much — in Africa, the included breakfast normally consisted of a couple of pieces of bread (rarely toasted, since the electricity was often not working) and some tea. If we were lucky, we got a plain egg and some fruit we couldn’t eat — and that was at the expensive places. We went to the 5th floor room where breakfast was supposed to be served and discovered the room was under construction. Not a good sign.

We ventured downstairs and heard noise from the restaurant below. As we walked down the stairs, we saw an enormous spread of food: bagels, crossaints, scrambled eggs, toast, cheese, cereals, coffees and tea (by the pot), yogurts, fruits and more. Lauren wanted to dig in but I was too scared. If this wasn’t included, there was no way we could afford it.

I made Lauren go ask if the food was free. With a slightly confused and indignant look, the waitress nodded; and Lauren and I dug in, trying hard again not to look like we had been starving for the past few months. We piled our plates with sweets and eggs and cheese. We also ended up filching a few extra single servings of cheese and Nutella packets to eat later that day.

After our feast, we headed into the city to see the Spanish Steps. It was my first time in Rome, and we hadn’t bought a guidebook (too expensive), so I didn’t know what to expect. It took me a few minutes to realize this was the scene of that will-you-marry-me…again commercial. We took tons of photos (of course) and wandered towards the Trevi Fountain. As we walked to the Fountain, we passed designer clothing stores (like a European SoHo). We hadn’t seen anything like them since we had left the U.S. months earlier. We alternated between being shocked at the prices, wanting to shop and feeling like we, in our trekking pants and now-ragged shirts, totally didn’t belong there.

At Trevi Fountain, we tossed our coins into the fountain (wishing to return again to Rome) before deciding it was time to eat again. In appropriate order, we first got gelato (amazing Italian ice scream) in pistacio, Nutella and tiramisu flavors. Afterwards, we spotted a pizza place where you buy pizza buy the inch (kilo, actually) and split one of the best pizzas I’ve ever eaten — with fresh buffalo cheese, tomato and basil.

We then headed over to the Pantheon. By this point, my feet were killing me. I had only brought trekking shoes, which had strong grips on the soles of the shoe — perfect for the sandy roads of Africa and India, but punishing on the cobblestone streets.

After a quick tour of the Pantheon and a quick call to Lauren’s mom (who would be joining us in Rome the next day — a b-day gift from Lauren and her sister Kerry) we decided to head back to Trevi Fountain to enjoy the Nutella and cheese we had acquired earlier that day.

We started wandering around the various shops, buying some bread and buffalo cheese (3 Euros) and a cabernet from a wine store (for 4 Euros), and sat down on the stairs to enjoy our snack. The buffalo cheese was unreal — and I don’t think it was because we had been cheese deprived for months.

We hung around for two more hours before getting a delicious pasta dinner in a cute restaurant near the fountain. And the traveling-around-the-world-on-a-budget diet was officially over.