Euro Hotel Milan

Nice hotel service and nice location. Near the train and the bus station. They call it the Eternal City. A phrase that feels almost trite until you stand alone, utterly dwarfed, beneath the Pantheon’s impossible dome, or trace your fingers over travertine worn smooth by two thousand years of passing hands. Rome isn’t just eternal; it’s immediate, visceral, a theatre of existence where the past isn’t preserved behind glass, but bleeds passionately into the vibrant, chaotic present. And experiencing it solo? That’s not loneliness; it’s liberation. It’s a conversation, intimate and profound, between your soul and the city’s timeless spirit. My dialogue began at dawn, chasing the first honeyed light spilling across the Piazza Navona. Alone, you move differently. Unburdened by consensus or compromise, I followed whims: detouring down a cobbled *vicolo* heavy with the scent of baking cornetti, drawn by the sudden, breathtaking reveal of the Trevi Fountain, still relatively quiet. Tossing my coin wasn’t just a tourist ritual; it was a whispered promise to the city, a silent pact sealed in the cool morning air and the fountain’s roaring majesty. Solitude amplifies these moments – the crisp *click* of your heels on ancient stone, the unfiltered awe as Bernini’s marble figures seem to surge from the water, frozen in divine drama. You hear the city’s own heartbeat, the murmur of awakening life, the distant clang of a baker’s shutter, the splash echoing in the vast basin. Wandering towards the Roman Forum, the sheer weight of history becomes palpable, almost a physical pressure. Alone, you can truly stop. You can perch on a sun-warmed block of tufa, gaze at the skeletal arches of the Basilica of Maxentius reaching defiantly towards a piercing blue sky, and let your imagination run riot. No commentary needed, no shared speculation required. Here, amid the ghosts of senators and centurions, the silence isn’t empty; it’s resonant. You feel the centuries compress. A stray cat sunning itself on Julius Caesar’s altar becomes a perfect, poignant metaphor for time’s relentless, indifferent march. The Colosseum looms nearby, its brutal grandeur undeniable. Observing it solo, you feel its dual nature more acutely – the awe-inspiring engineering marvel and the chilling echo of spectated suffering. It prompts introspection, a quiet contemplation on humanity’s enduring contradictions, impossible amidst a crowd’s chatter. Then, the Pantheon. Stepping inside is like walking into the mind of God, conceived by mortals. The sheer scale, the perfection of the dome – that oculus open to the heavens – is humbling beyond words. A shaft of sunlight pierces the dusty interior, illuminating motes dancing like celestial dust. Sitting alone on a bench, head tilted back, the immensity washes over you. The whispers of fellow visitors fade into a reverent hush. You feel infinitesimally small yet profoundly connected to the generations who stood precisely here, awestruck, for millennia. Solitude allows this space for pure, unadulterated wonder. It’s not just seeing; it’s *feeling* the architectural genius, the spiritual ambition made stone. But Rome isn’t just monumental stones; it’s vibrant, messy, delicious life. Crossing the Tiber into Trastevere, the atmosphere shifts. Narrow streets twist like tangled yarn, laundry flutters like colourful flags between ochre buildings, and the air thickens with the garlicky perfume of *cacio e pepe* and frying *carciofi*. Solo travel makes you porous. You notice the old men arguing passionately over espresso at a tiny bar, the clatter of plates from a hidden trattoria kitchen, the effortless elegance of a Roman woman navigating the cobbles in impossible heels. You slip into a *salumeria*, point at mysterious cheeses and glistening olives, and assemble a picnic feast. Finding a quiet step on Piazza Santa Maria in Trastevere, watching life swirl around the ancient basilica as you savour pecorino sharp enough to make your eyes wa

The hotel is very close to the city centre. Was clean and very spacious room. It was a pain as we had to return our key everytime we went out so had to ask for it when we came back which was annoying

Very good location, close to main station. I booked a single room type for my stay. It was clean and cozy.

Great accommodation just for one night. Wouldn’t recommend the breakfast though, very limited especially if you’re celiac.

I had to pay 30 euro per night because the classic single room was so outdated, only to find out upon departure that they downgraded me since I originally booked their Classic renovated room. But Trip.com was so efficient and compensated for this mistake.

Great location. Very close to the tram station, with many restaurants nearby. The room is clean, the facilities are sufficient, and the price is reasonable.