Day 100: An Olympic flame and a century of days
December 4, 2025 - Rome, Italy
I woke up earlier than usual today, my mind already processing the significance of the number. One hundred days. One-fifth of my journey complete. Four hundred days still ahead. The numbers kept circling in my head as I made my morning coffee in the small kitchenette of my hotel room.
The morning air was crisp when I stepped out at 7:30, bundled in my jacket against the 6°C chill. The sky was mostly cloudy, but I didn't mind. Rome has a different kind of beauty under cloud cover—the ancient stones seem to hold their stories closer.
I decided to take a morning walk toward the Quirinal Palace after reading about the Olympic torch arriving today. The flame for the Milano Cortina 2026 Winter Games was lit in Greece last week and is making its journey across Italy. I wasn't sure if I'd be able to see anything, but the idea of witnessing this moment of connection between ancient Olympic tradition and modern celebration felt appropriate for my hundredth day on the road.
As expected, security was tight around the palace. I arrived at 8:40 for what I later learned was a 9:00 ceremony, joining a modest crowd of locals and tourists who had the same idea. We couldn't get very close, but I caught glimpses of official vehicles and personnel preparing for the arrival. There's something special about being present for these moments of ceremonial significance, even if just at the periphery.
While waiting, I struck up a conversation with an Italian family next to me. The father explained to his children about the Olympic tradition, and I smiled hearing his enthusiasm. When he noticed me listening, he switched to English and asked where I was from. The brief connection with locals always makes these moments richer.
"Tomorrow is your last day in Rome?" the man asked after we'd chatted a bit.
"Yes, moving on to Naples," I replied, feeling a slight pang at the thought of leaving. Five days isn't nearly enough for Rome, but then again, would five months be?
After about forty minutes of waiting, I decided to continue my day. The actual torch wouldn't arrive until later, and I wanted to make the most of my second-to-last day in the city.
I made my way to the Ara Pacis Museum, having read that a new exhibition was opening today featuring Impressionist masterpieces from the Detroit Institute of Arts. The museum wasn't crowded at 9:30, and I spent a peaceful hour admiring works by Renoir, Van Gogh, and Cézanne. Standing before these paintings, I thought about how they represent another kind of journey—the evolution of artistic perspective and the courage to see the world differently.
One painting in particular caught my attention—a Van Gogh landscape with tall cypress trees reaching toward the sky. I stood there longer than with the other works, taking in the swirling brushstrokes that somehow captured not just the appearance but the essence of those trees.
As I left the museum, I checked my weather app and noticed the yellow warnings for thunderstorms and rain starting at 7:00 PM. My plans for an evening walk might need adjustment, but that's become second nature after a hundred days of travel.
I found a small café nearby and ordered an espresso, taking a moment to reflect on this milestone day. A hundred days ago, I was nervously boarding a flight to Amsterdam, unsure of what this journey would bring. Now, I've navigated train strikes, unexpected weather, language barriers, and the constant dance of planning and spontaneity.
Sitting there, I pulled out my journal and made a list:
Things I've learned in 100 days:
- How to order coffee in five countries
- That plans will change, and that's okay
- The value of arriving early (and sometimes the joy of being late)
- How to be alone without being lonely
- That the world is both smaller and vastly larger than I imagined
The last one feels particularly true. A hundred days has both flown by and felt like a lifetime. Places that were once just names on a map are now filled with memories, smells, tastes, and faces. And yet, looking at the map of where I've been compared to where I might go, I feel like I've barely started.
I wonder what the next hundred days will bring. By then, I'll have celebrated my 50th birthday somewhere in this wide world. The thought both excites and terrifies me.
For now, though, I have one more day in Rome. Tomorrow I'll be on a train to Naples, continuing south through Italy before I need to decide where to go next. Part of me wants to see Bali soon, crossing one bucket list destination off early. Another part is drawn to the idea of a slower exploration of the Mediterranean coast.
But that's tomorrow's concern. Today is about honoring these hundred days and making the most of Rome before the evening rain arrives. I'm thinking of visiting Villa Borghese gardens this afternoon, and perhaps finding a cozy spot to enjoy a longer Roman lunch.
A hundred days down. Four hundred to go. The journey continues.