Most tourists in Rome stick to the same five spots: the Colosseum, the Vatican, the Trevi Fountain, the Pantheon, and Piazza Navona. They snap photos, buy overpriced gelato, and leave with the same story everyone else tells. But if you’ve ever felt like you missed the real Rome-where locals live, laugh, and eat-you’re not alone. Rebecca Volpetti, a Roman born and raised, has spent over two decades showing visitors what most guidebooks ignore. She doesn’t lead tours. She invites people into her city, one street corner at a time.
Start Where Romans Start: Piazza Vittorio
Rebecca’s favorite morning ritual isn’t at the Spanish Steps. It’s at Piazza Vittorio, a quiet, multicultural square in the Esquilino neighborhood. Here, you’ll find Senegalese vendors selling fresh mangoes, Ethiopian coffee shops with thick, sweet brews, and Italian grandmothers haggling over kale at the open-air market. It’s not Instagram-famous. It’s not crowded with selfie sticks. But it’s where Rome breathes.
Rebecca says, "If you want to know what Rome is today, not what it was 2,000 years ago, come here." She’ll point you to the little bakery with the best panino con porchetta-crispy pork, rosemary, and a hint of fennel-wrapped in a crusty roll that costs €3.50. No one waits in line. No one posts about it. But locals know.
The Secret Garden Behind the Basilica
Most people walk past the Basilica of Santa Maria Maggiore thinking it’s just another church. Rebecca takes you through a narrow alley behind it, past a rusted iron gate, and into a forgotten garden. It’s called Giardino degli Aranci-but not the one on the Aventine Hill. This one is smaller, quieter, and owned by a family who’s tended it since 1952.
There’s a single bench under a 100-year-old orange tree. The fruit drops softly in autumn. You can sit here for an hour and hear only birds and distant church bells. Rebecca brings a thermos of espresso and tells stories about how the neighborhood changed after the 1960 Olympics. She remembers when this garden was a dumping ground. Now, it’s a sanctuary.
Where to Eat When You Don’t Want Tourist Food
Rebecca won’t take you to Trattoria Da Enzo. She’ll take you to Trattoria Da Orazio, tucked under a train bridge near San Giovanni. The menu is handwritten on a chalkboard. The owner, Orazio, is 78 and still stirs the ragù himself. The pasta is made fresh every morning. The carbonara? No cream. Just eggs, pecorino, guanciale, and black pepper. It costs €14. You’ll wait 20 minutes. It’s worth it.
She also swears by Antico Forno Roscioli for bread-specifically the ciabatta al farro, made with ancient grain. Most tourists buy bread at the supermarket. Romans buy it here and eat it with olive oil and sea salt at home.
The Underground That Doesn’t Show Up on Google Maps
There’s a network of ancient Roman tunnels beneath the Testaccio neighborhood. They were used for storing olive oil in the 1st century. Today, they’re mostly forgotten. Rebecca has a friend who works at the municipal archives. He lets her in once a month. The air is cool, damp, and smells like earth and stone. The walls still have Roman markings-names, dates, even doodles from workers 2,000 years ago.
She doesn’t take just anyone. But if you show up with genuine curiosity, she’ll arrange it. No flashlights. No selfies. Just silence and history you can touch.
How to See Rome Without the Crowds
Rebecca’s rule: If you can see it from a bus, it’s not worth seeing. She teaches visitors to walk. Not the tourist routes. The backstreets. The alleys between Via Merulana and Via di San Giovanni in Laterano. She’ll point out a 17th-century fountain no one knows about. Or a tiny chapel with a single stained-glass window that only catches the light at 4 p.m.
She says, "Rome doesn’t reveal itself to those who rush. It gives itself to those who pause."
She’ll show you how to time your visits. The Vatican Museums? Go on a Wednesday morning, right after the Pope’s audience ends. The Colosseum? Go at 7:30 a.m. in winter. You’ll have it to yourself. No lines. No noise. Just the echo of gladiators long gone.
What Romans Actually Do on Sundays
On Sundays, most tourists head to the Vatican. Romans head to Parco degli Acquedotti, a vast green space east of the city. It’s dotted with ancient aqueduct ruins-some over 2,000 years old-now covered in ivy and used as picnic spots. Families bring sandwiches. Teenagers play soccer. Elderly men play chess under the arches.
Rebecca brings her dog, a rescue named Lupo, and walks the same path every week. She’ll stop at the little stall run by Nonna Rosa, who sells homemade castagnaccio-a chestnut cake with rosemary and pine nuts. It’s gluten-free, sweet, and smells like autumn. Rebecca buys two. One for her. One for the next stranger who looks tired.
Why Rebecca’s Way Matters
There’s a reason Rebecca doesn’t have a website. No Instagram. No tour company. She believes tourism should be personal, not packaged. She doesn’t sell experiences. She shares them.
She once had a visitor from Japan who cried after their walk. "I thought I knew Rome," he said. "But I didn’t know it until I saw it through your eyes." Rebecca just nodded. She’s heard it before.
Her approach isn’t about exclusivity. It’s about presence. It’s about seeing Rome not as a museum, but as a living place-with noise, mess, beauty, and rhythm.
How to Find Rebecca (And Why You Should)
You won’t find her on Airbnb Experiences or GetYourGuide. She doesn’t advertise. But if you’re staying in Rome for more than three days, ask at a local bookstore-like Libreria Tiberina near Piazza Navona. Tell them you’re looking for someone who shows the real Rome. They’ll know who you mean.
Or, better yet, show up at Piazza Vittorio on a Saturday morning with a notebook and a quiet attitude. She’s often there, talking to someone, buying oranges, or just watching the light hit the fountain.
Don’t ask for a tour. Ask for a walk.
What to Bring
- Comfortable shoes-you’ll walk 10,000 steps a day
- A reusable water bottle-tap water in Rome is safe and delicious
- A small notebook-Rebecca will tell you stories you’ll want to remember
- Patience-you’re not here to check boxes. You’re here to feel something
What to Leave Behind
- Expectations of perfection
- Phones on full brightness
- The idea that Rome is just ruins
- The need to be the first to post about it
Who is Rebecca Volpetti?
Rebecca Volpetti is a lifelong Roman who has spent over 20 years guiding visitors through the hidden, everyday life of the city. She doesn’t run formal tours or have a website. Instead, she meets people in local spots-like Piazza Vittorio-and shares stories, places, and meals that most tourists never find. Her approach is personal, quiet, and deeply rooted in the rhythms of real Roman life.
Can I book a tour with Rebecca Volpetti?
No, you can’t book a tour. Rebecca doesn’t offer scheduled services. She meets people organically-often through word of mouth or local recommendations. If you’re in Rome for more than a few days, visit Libreria Tiberina near Piazza Navona and ask if they know her. Or show up at Piazza Vittorio on a Saturday morning. She’s often there. Be respectful, curious, and patient.
Is Rebecca Volpetti a professional guide?
She’s not a licensed tour guide with a badge or a company. She doesn’t need one. Her knowledge comes from living in Rome, not from training programs. She knows the history of alleyways, the names of shopkeepers, and where the best bread is baked. Her value isn’t in certification-it’s in authenticity.
What’s the best time to visit Rome like Rebecca does?
Late autumn through early spring-October to March-is ideal. The crowds are gone, the light is softer, and locals are out and about. Summer is hot, crowded, and exhausting. Rebecca avoids it. If you go in winter, bring layers. The rain in Rome is cold, but the city feels alive in a way it never does in July.
Do I need to speak Italian to walk with Rebecca?
No. Rebecca speaks fluent English and has guided people from over 30 countries. But learning a few Italian phrases-"Grazie," "Dov’è il bagno?", "Che buono!"-goes a long way. Romans appreciate the effort. And sometimes, the best moments happen when words aren’t needed at all.
