Fuck Rome. Marry Mumford & Sons. Kill Brother.

While planning our trip through Italy and Croatia, my brother’s fiance came up with the idea of surprising my brother with a concert to his favorite band Mumford &  Sons. They happened to be playing in Rome at the same time that we’re in Europe. The only problem, the concert was the day before we arrived into Rome. After a lot of back and forth, we decided that we’d leave Croatia one day early to make the concert. We just needed to keep this under wraps from my brother until then.

Since we’ve been taking care of the travel details, it wasn’t very hard to move up the date without my brother suspecting anything. We bought the tickets to the concert and made an Airbnb reservation for the extra night in Rome. The plan was we’d arrive in the afternoon,  check-in into the apartment and then in the evening say that we’re going to a restaurant when in fact we’d head to the concert.

Everything went according to plan. We arrived into Rome, met up with another brother (who joined us for this leg of the trip) and caught a cab to our apartment which was close to the Colosseum. On checking into the apartment, we found the place to be depressing. It had an odd moldy smell and a gaping hole in the ceiling above one of the beds. I now understood what the landlord meant by the apartment’s “Rustic Charm”.


We glossed over these issues and went out exploring our neighborhood. Rome’s charms where on full display; from the Colosseum, to the historic neighborhoods to all the interesting shops and cafes that line its streets. But for whatever reason I didn’t enjoy myself as much as I thought I would. There’s a grimy feel to the streets, a slight stench of garbage wherever we went and the sticky humidity made things unpleasant. Also I found the locals to be rude, brusque and ill tempered.

I’m glad I came and saw Rome, but this is a city I wouldn’t want to stay in for very long. To be honest it’s not a place I’d want to return to anytime soon. For me Rome is definitely a one night stand city. I’d fuck Rome and then barely remember its name in the morning.



As the evening approached, we got ready to go to the restaurant (concert). It was held in a venue outside the city and required that we take a train to get there. We explained to my brother that this is a special restaurant and worth the trip. He seemed to buy our explanation.

The train was filled with lots of party goers who were also going to Mumford. We were worried that my brother would catch on. Arriving at our destination, we left the station and walked towards the concert venue. Along the path there were barricades, cops and lots of people walking the same direction. There was no way we could keep up the charade so we took out the tickets and handed it to him.

He took one look at the tickets and immediately started screaming with joy as we all laughed. I still can’t believe he fell for it.

The anticipation building, we piled into the grounds excited for the show. Let me tell you, Mumford brought it – hard – to Rome. The concert blew us away. It was amazing. The crowd was great (if a little drunk) and we sang along to most of their songs. By the end of the night we were sweaty and hoarse.

I love Mumford & Sons.

I mean,  I LOOOOOVE — love them.

I’m not ashamed to admit it.

I’d happily spend my life being a groupie and tour with them. They’re fucking hilarious and to be able to watch them play live every night would be amazing. I’d sacrifice my life at the alter of their genius.

I’d happily marry them. It would be a hardcore Catholic marriage: no divorce and lots of babies. I’d find a way to have those babies. If Schwarzenegger could do it in the movie “Twins” then so can I.

They’ll probably be the world’s ugliest babies, but what the hell, anything in the name of love!



The concert finished late, the venue emptied and everyone walked back to the train station. When we arrived, we found there was only one train commissioned to take all the concertgoers back to Rome. It was a packed train and an unpleasant ride.

Sadly another unpleasant surprise was waiting for us in Rome. When we got into the city we found that the metro had stopped its service.

We had no option but to walk back to our apartment.

Luckily, I had a prepaid sim and could use Google Maps to navigate us back to our apartment. I took the lead while everyone followed me. This has been a VERY long day. We got up early to catch a flight to Rome, spent the day walking around the city in the sticky heat and went to the Mumford concert in the evening. The exhaustion hit me like a brick wall.

I was anxious to get back to the apartment so that I could grab a shower and crash. I made it very clear that I had first dibs on the shower. Absorbed in my thoughts and following the map I turn around to check on the group behind me only to find that they’re gone!

Apparently all this time I’d been walking alone, talking to myself and didn’t know it. I’m shocked. I went back and tried to retrace my steps to see if I could find them. I could feel the vein in my forehead start to throb, ready to burst. I can’t believe they disappeared! It’s late, I’m tired and now I have to walk around Rome looking for them.

F-U-C-K   M-E!

After half an hour of searching, I look at my watch and see that it’s almost 1:30 am. I give up on finding them. My only hope is that they make it back to the Colosseum and remember the way back to the apartment.

As I near the apartment, walking the opposite direction from me are my brothers. They’re laughing as we cross paths. What happened? Apparently my brother was hungry and decided to get something to eat as they were following me. They said that they called out to me but I didn’t stop.

My brother’s always hungry. It’s unnatural. He has a bottomless stomach that can take an obscene amount of food. He must be part cow and has more than one stomach. That’s the only way to justify the amount of food he eats.

I’m livid but don’t say a word.

We go back to the apartment. My brother at this point is amped up from the nights excitement and seeing the concert. He’s cracking jokes that I found extremely grating and childish. As I get ready for the shower that I’ve been yearning for, my brother cuts in front of me and closes the bathroom door.


He knew I wanted to shower but jumped ahead of me thinking it was funny. It took all my self control not to breakdown the flimsy door and strangle him with the shower curtain.

Twenty minutes later I hear this:

“Guys! …..  I think I’m locked in the bathroom”

There was silence for a minute. We thought he was trying to be funny and was still making jokes.

“Guys!  …..  Seriously …..  I’m locked in the bathroom”

We go the bathroom door and find that my brother broke the key while trying to unlock the door. His finance starts to freak out and wants to break down the door. At which I shout-reply

“No one is breaking anything! He’ll sleep in the bathroom before we break the door”.

After some drama we calm down, search the apartment and find another set of keys for the bathroom door. Crisis resolved. I look at the clock, it’s 3 am. There’s no point in the shower now. We’re checking out of the apartment in couple of hours and I’ve reach a new level of anger. I refuse to speak to my brother for the entire day after the incident.

I love my brother but if I had a gun or a sharp object there’s no doubt in my mind that in that moment at 3am, a triple homicide would have gone down. I would’ve murdered my brother (and all witnesses) in a bout of temporary insanity. I’ve never had a day go from so good to so bad that quick.

So yeah.

Fuck Rome.  Marry Mumford & Sons.  Kill Brother.