Piazza Navona.

After the Roman conquest, the Romans brought at least eight obelisks from ancient Egypt back to "The Ancient City" (read: Rome). They still stand here to this day.

Sant'Ivo alla Sapienza, recognized by its frozen yogurt-spiral dome. Ryan performed here two summers in a row.

Not exactly sightseeing, but our afternoon coffee pick-me-ups were crucial to our energy levels. This is Sant Eustachio. Ryan promised this would be the best espresso I've had in my life, and I didn't believe him (mostly because espresso just tastes like espresso to me). But no...it was actually the best espresso I've had in my life. I dragged him back on our last day because I couldn't bear the thought of not having it again.

The outside of the Pantheon, regarded as the largest example of a perfect dome in the world.

The inside of the Pantheon. Ancient architects realized that the dome would be too heavy and would fall in on itself unless they strategically removed squares of marble throughout the inside. The squares you see aren't for decoration; they're a crucial part of the structure.

I'm going to be perfectly honest and admit that I don't know where this was taken, but I think it was a Saint (Someone) church just around the corner from a delicious pizzeria on one of Rome's off-beaten paths.

We were heading up toward hilltop vistas not far from Vatican City when we turned around and saw this view. (We miss those domed skylines!) From the vistas, we got Aperol spritzes and stretched out on the stone walls to look out over the city.

The Bridge of Angels leading to Castel Sant'Angelo, where Hadrian (of Hadrian's Wall) was buried. It was also briefly the Papal office, but now stands as a really cool-looking castle across the Tiber river from Rome.

Walking into Castel Sant'Angelo.

Inside Castel Sant'Angelo.

A panorama of our view from the top of the Castel (read: "castle"). You can see the Bridge of Angels, and to the right you can see the dome of St. Peter's Basilica (Vatican City).

A view of the Tiber from the Castel.

Looking down at the Bridge of Angels.

Italy wasn't built for Ryan Downeys.

Looking back across the bridge toward the Castel.

Rome's synagogue in what used to be its Jewish Quarter, which is located at the bend of the Tiber river. Because of its location, the quarter flooded frequently and was close to uninhabitable (however, the Pope required that all Jews live in this small, muddy, disease-prone area). This synagogue was the victim of bombings and shootings in the 1980s, and has had very strong security presence ever since.

Although we saw the second largest synagogue in the world in Budapest (the first largest is in New York), our favorite was this one in Rome. Note the square dome, which architects built so that you could tell it apart from the dozens of rounded domes across the Roman skyline.

We took a wrong turn while heading toward a monument to Victor Emmanuel II and ended up at Torre Argentina. This random, ruin-filled courtyard in the middle of an otherwise developed neighborhood was a pagan convent and sanctuary in 400 BC, and is now a sanctuary for cats.

All cats that enter the premises are spayed/neutered and vaccinated before being put up for adoption, all the while given the freedom to roam these ruins.

They were all very friendly and welcome to pats. (Jess would have patted them anyway.)

Can you spot the cats?

This is yet another church that we can't name. (You'd think that, with all this decoration, it would be a particularly recognizable church--but no, every church in Rome looks like this.) As hot as it was in the city, Jess had to keep her shoulders and legs covered to enter each of these churches, which was a bummer.

St. Paul's Within the Walls, Rome's first Protestant church and its only Episcopal church. It has recently fought strongly for refugee rights in the ongoing Syrian crisis.

The Colosseum (Colosseo), which was so jaw-droppingly magnificent.

If you can tell from our earbuds, we were listening to Rick Steves's audio walking tour through the Colosseum, which helped paint a portrait of what the area would have looked like between 0 and 300 AD.

A panorama of the Colosseum.

The outside of the Colosseum.

Rome's Triumphal Arch of Titus as you head from the Colosseum uphill to the Foro Romano, the Ancient Forum (Rome's "downtown").

The Roman Forum. This was one of the coolest sights we saw in Rome; we ended up spending quite a bit of time looking at books that outlined what this downtown would have looked like in Rome's heyday between 500 BC and 500 AD.

Palatine Hill, the site of what used to be a massive complex for the emperor, including beautifully complex baths, gardens, chariot race tracks, gardens, and mansions.

The far opposite end of the Roman Forum (away from the Colosseum). Barely visible in the center of the panorama is the house of the Vestal Virgins, and to the left of the frame is the site of Julius Caesar's assassination.

The Arch of Septimius Severus. The Temple of Saturn sits just to the right, one of the oldest standing relics of a temple in Rome.

One last, comprehensive look at the ancient Roman Forum.

One of the most awe-inspiring sights in the Roman Forum was the sheer scale of a basilica Constantine built for himself. This "Basilica of Maxentius" was the largest building in the forum (see a photo of the side arches--just the side arches!--here). Originally, a colossal statue of Constantine himself sat at the western end of the basilica, sitting about 40 feet tall. The statue is now in ruins (possibly from an earthquake), and now sits in pieces at the Musei Capitolini on Capitoline Hill, overlooking the forum. Look at the (tall) man on the righthand side of this photo for scale.

Rome's legendary founding stems from brothers Remus and Romulus (sound familiar?), who were raised by a she-wolf. This famous bronze statue is housed in the Musei Capitolini.

The famous head of Medusa, Musei Capitolini.

The real reason we loved the Musei Capitolini: these views of the Roman Forum far below.

In the far, far distance, to the left of the belltower (campanile), you can see the Colosseum.

The inside of Santa Cecilia in Trastevere. This church was built on the ruins of Saint Cecilia's home. A model of her almost-decapitated body lies inside the altar as a reminder of her martyrdom.

For 5€, we could go beneath Santa Cecilia to explore her ancient homestead.

A well used for grain in Cecilia's home. The fact that she had many of these wells hints at her wealth when she was alive.

The crypts beneath Santa Cecilia in Trastevere. This was also used frequently (and may still be used today) as a chapel.

We particularly loved the mosaic and mural work in this underground chapel.

The Borghese Gallery to the north of Rome's center. We spent the morning wandering around this northern stretch, mostly to see the Catacombs of Priscilla. This eight-mile stretch of catacombs (which once held 40,000 bodies) is claustrophobia-inducing but so historically neat: While passing by femur bones and still-preserved coffin spaces, we saw some of the oldest known Marian paintings in the world, including the first frescoes to depict the three wise men and the Madonna with child.

The Borghese Gallery sits not far south of the catacombs, and is known for its extravagant collection of art.

Our favorite piece was the famous Daphne and Apollo. If you look at her fingers (which are turning into branches and leaves), you can see just how detailed this piece is.

We searched for close to an hour for what looked like the perfect gondolier and starting place! The gondolas are everywhere, so it was important for us to scout out a more remote starting point with fewer people in the side canals. We finally succeeded in a piazza just around the corner from our hotel, where a gondolier was chatting with a friend and intermittently whistling tunes. No one was in line for the gondolas--this was a pretty deeply-hidden part of Venice--so we walked right on up.

We knew we'd chosen well when, instead of heading straight down the wider canal where his gondola sat, he turned and started heading toward this bridge (which is just as low as it looks). He said something along the lines of "See that opening? We're going to go under it." Ryan whispered "I...I don't think we can go under that..."

The gondolier had to practically lay down while still steering, and even Ryan had to duck, but we made it through.

We took this photo right outside one of Venice's schools of music, so Ryan (and the gondolier, for that matter--he loved music) happily listened to whatever operas were floating out the windows toward the water.

We entered Venice's Grand Canal (its main waterway) for a few "exits" before turning and entering into another narrow canal.

Our gondolier loved to whistle and sing. Corny as it may sound, we loved it.

Jess accidentally dressed like a gondolier that day...

About to turn a very, very worrisomely narrow corner. It took some finagling, but we did it.

Front seat view.

Back where we started! It was a dream ride.

Originally, we were supposed to have a fifth day in Budapest—or almost. Our flight from Budapest to Fiumicino (the closest airport to Rome, which lies about 50 minutes outside the city center) was scheduled to leave at 6:30 PM. But after a nationwide travel strike in Italy, our flight was one of the only Alitalia flights not to be canceled entirely; instead, it was moved to 10:45 AM.

Beyond all the stresses that come with a travel strike (e.g., not being able to check into our flight, or even to contact Alitalia about it), we were bummed to lose time in Budapest. We arrived at the airport very early, only to find that not a single Alitalia employee had shown up to the check-in counters. Instead, there were half a dozen contractors who had no clue how to log into the system, find travel itineraries, check luggage, or print boarding passes. (This was obviously not their fault—the airport wasn’t prepared for a strike of this magnitude.) We were second in line to check our bags, which took well over an hour to do (and keep in mind that there were probably a hundred customers behind us), which made the entire flight even more stressful than it had to be.

But after arriving at Fiumicino and haggling with aggressive taxi drivers for a 2.1-mile drive into the Roman countryside, we pulled into QC Termeroma…and were beyond grateful for the strike and all the changes it brought with it. If we’d arrived at this paradise of a resort at our original 9:00 PM, we wouldn’t have had time to do anything but sleep. (The next morning’s flight was an early one.) But once we rolled into the hotel courtyard at 1:30 PM, we knew the strike was our blessing in disguise.

A brief introduction to QC Termeroma: It was built over Portus Traiano, a complex built by Emperor Traiano in 100 AD. It features several Tuscan-style, two-story adobe complexes with Spanish tile roofs and huge, shuttered windows, all spread across expanses of grass and trees that were so green Ryan couldn’t believe they were real.

Cobbled paths led through trees and tall hedges to small openings that were tucked away, feeling so private that you’d guess you were in someone’s backyard—and each of these openings featured covered lounge areas, water stations, or floating beds—or shaded lounge chairs, heated pools, jacuzzis, foot spas stations, or waterfalls. In all, we found ten above-ground bodies of water of varying temperatures, some with waterfalls, some with bubbles, and all heated to an enjoyable temperature.

There were rest areas, many of which were covered; and one of our personal favorites was a gazebo with floating beds hanging from chains, where we stretched out next to each other and dozed until two resort employees stopped by and asked if we wanted to be sprayed with lavender mist. (What?) Turns out the mist was delightful, and put us right back to sleep.

But here comes the real treasure of the place: Underneath it all lay an underground network of more than 20 different Roman and Turkish spas. There was every type of sauna, from 0% humidity to exactly 100%; there were saunas with burning tea leaves, with ice baths in the middle (that was my favorite; I could keep my legs freezing cold while the rest of my body sweated out a month’s worth of toxins); there were long stretches of scalding hot water that you had to walk through to reach an equally long stretch of ice water, which people paced between until their feet went numb; there were two long walls of shin-deep water, where you stand beneath waterfalls with so much pressure that it pulled my ponytail out of its band. There were traditional hot tubs and high-powered jets (which were so violently strong that they turn off automatically after 30 seconds), there were showers that were so blisteringly hot that I accidentally screamed and Ryan had to quickly turn them off again; and there were stations for luxurious foot baths with all sorts of perfumed lotions.

What I particularly loved about this entire resort was the requirement that guests wear provided bathrobes and slippers around the entire (sprawling, grassy, paradise-like) complex, even the café. The only area where you were allowed to wear normal attire was the restaurant, which—after an entire afternoon of lounging, dozing, and spa-ing—we had dinner.

Ryan and I recently flipped through our photos from this particular dinner, and can’t for the life of us remember most of what we ate that night. There was an interesting dollop of some sort of whipped cream-like, savory substance with saffron, pickled something, and maybe some clover—and Ryan had some form of veal, and I know I had gnocchi in squid ink with piglet ragout (sorry, piglet), and for dessert Ryan had a dreamy tiramisu while I had fruit sorbets that had been frozen back into their original fruit coverings (like plum, apricot, and banana)—but when it comes to exact ingredients, we have no idea. We were in heaven, and it was the perfect birthday dinner.

I won’t go so far as to say we “roughed it” for even a day during our honeymoon—we were so incredibly thankful to enjoy some amazing hotels throughout our stay—but we agree that it was a stellar idea to spend our last night on our honeymoon in (by far) the nicest hotel of our trip. We slept beautifully, and woke up the next morning feeling refreshed for an entire day of flights from Fiumicino to Detroit and back to Raleigh, and another set from Raleigh to Tampa and on to Phoenix.