Just Borgias.

Make the B Line for heavily inked trains.

Rome, Italy - The heat rose wearily as we descended with waves of people to the subway below.

An exhalation of cool air welcomed the heavily tattooed oncoming train, which harkened back to 1980s New York City. The blur of colour melted into the air like crayons in a double boiler as the subway's brakes squealed hello.

It was just the beginning of the day's art – a modern take on the creativity practiced here for thousands of years.

We started by visiting Villa Borghese, where we saw countless Bernini sculptures – with marble cascading in waves of ornate hair and delicate clusters of leaves, and framed by gracefully contorted arms.

One bust had an incredibly ornate beard; another had a veil, which was completely sculpted behind the head. One might have forgiven the artist for cutting a corner by literally not cutting a corner. But this is why it is they who were the masters.

Gian Lorenzo Bernini's 'The Rape of Proserpina' was notably impressive, possessing incredible movement and such detail as indentations from the fingers gripping her marble thighs.

I was also impressed by lighting techniques used in paintings by Wolfgang Heimbach, by a Peter Paul Rubens and by a room-full of paintings by Michelangelo Merisi da Caravaggio. Then, there was the statue from the year 196.

None were behind so much as a rope.

Wandering around Rome throughout the afternoon, we climbed the Spanish Steps, tossed coins into the Trevi Fountain, saw Raphael's tomb in the Pantheon and walked down the middle of the closed road to the Colosseum.

At which point my camera, quite naturally, told me it was exhausted.

So was I.

Roam.

The view from our temporary home.

Rome, Italy - As we crossed the park this morning, we were suddenly swarmed by a pack of gypsy women cradling babies. They kissed their hands before pushing them out to us with pleading eyes.

Slipperily, their hands extended toward our bags, before a sharp rebuke took them aback – incredulous – in mock offense. In an instant, their seeming meekness evaporated in a hiss.

Rome is a tourist city, and one must always be aware.

We spent the day riding the Archeobus, sampling some of the ancient wonders the city has to offer. My eyes widened upon seeing ancient columns laying on roadside lawns like stray logs.

As they likely have for hundreds of years.

We drove past the real-life postcard that is the Colosseum and scoffed that was only built in the year 7 A.D. Amazingly, we had discovered sites that were much older. Seeing its crumbling arches, however, made our presence in Rome that much more real.

We drove down the Appian Way, and past countless relics. On Tiber Island, we stopped for gelato. The Spicy cioccolata was an tongue-tickling dichotomy of heat and chill. Delicious.

As the lights hanging above the street shook from their slumber and danced alight, we stopped for a delicious thin-crust pizza at a sidewalk restaurant.

It was the first time I'd gone for a pizza and had to pay a cover charge.

A Brush with Catacombs.

I won't be cryptic: there are bones down here.

Rome, Italy - The cool air of ancient history closed in on us as we descended 12 feet into the Earth, along narrow tunnels carved into volcanic rock during the second and third centuries.

Yes, second and third.

The Catacombs of St. Callixtus are the largest in Rome and hold the dusty bones of more than a half-million people, including 56 saints, 16 popes and a number of martyrs. I'm not religious, but that's an impressive roster for Team Halo.

As the air whispered in my ear, I almost expected a bony finger to reach out from behind one of the frescoes, and tap me on the shoulder.

As if on cue, a choir echoed over the walls.

More than 1,700 years after it was completed, a subterranean mass is still held here.