While standing in line for hours to get into the Vatican, a flyer for a pub-crawl was shoved in my hand. I didn’t think much of it, as I planned to spend a quiet New Year’s without drunken debauchery. But my bar-hoping roommates would not allow that, and as soon as we returned from St. Peter’s Basilica (which happens to be the largest Christian church in the world), I had several girls fixing my makeup and attempting to tame by disheveled hair. The party started at the Colosseum, and when we arrived by metro after sunset, it was lit up in the background behind us like a giant ornament.
The pub-crawl promised free drinks, so after downing a rum & coke (more like a splash of coke), I attempted to be social—a great feat for me. There were people from all over the world, from Asia to Australia to Scotland. The plan was to visit several different bars throughout the night, and end back at the Forum where MTV was broadcasting live. After laughing myself to tears watching my new friends participate in ridiculous drinking games, the group of us moved like a mob onto the metro, jumping over the ticket stalls and jamming up the doors. All of this resulted in our tour guide’s coat getting drenched in beer, and he soon called it a night.
My roommates and I hung out with a group of Scottish guys around our age and attempted to dissect each other’s accents, which was pretty hard surrounded by loud music, big crowds, and drunken people. As the group of us made our way to the 3rd or 7th bar, we suddenly realized we were without a few of our new Scottish friends. Then they bolted out of the darkness, kilts and all, running as fast as they could towards us. They quickly explained they had “just pissed on the Russian Embassy” and were apparently being pursued by local authorities. Thinking it was going to be hard to get away (after all, how many men do you see wear a kilt everyday?), we dove into the bar just in time for a countdown. After screaming “Happy New Year!” we pushed our way back out the door and continued wandering the streets of Rome until we realized it was 3 a.m., the metro was closed, and we were lost. Luckily for us, one of the Scots, Neil, spoke Italian, so he hailed a cab for us, and after exchanging facebook info we were off!