Puffy clouds hang suspended over St. Peter’s Square as I arrive before the throngs of pilgrims. It’s just before 11 a.m., the sun beaming its powerful June light onto the sixteenth-century facade of St. Peter’s Basilica. Pigeons scurry as I walk through the sparsely crowded square – an elliptically shaped plaza embraced by its nearly 300 Doric-style columns, each topped with a statue of a saint. It seems a bit odd, I wonder, since I recall seeing this immense plaza always packed with crowds. But when I enter St. Peter’s, I find out why. The crowds are already inside amidst an anxious lull of whispered anticipation.

As I gaze upward to admire the sturdy marble columns and impressive dome emblazoned with seemingly ageless frescoes, I hear something I will never forget – and it takes me only an instant to realize what it is. I hear the simultaneous gasps from the few thousand people inside ripple through St. Peter’s spacious nave. It’s a two or three-second melodic cacophony of everyone’s hopes, prayers and reverence – the sounds of surprise and deep admiration as Pope John Paul II walks out onto the papal alter.

Snapping cameras create a whirlwind of mechanized clatter. Heads bob up and down as pilgrims stand tall on their toes, trying to take in every second of this special mass. The Pope’s voice is strong yet gentle, and although he’s speaking in Italian, no language barrier can mask his message of peace and joy, especially on this day.

My cherished moments seeing Pope John Paul II actually took place a decade or so ago during my first visit here. Rome may now be awash with the presence of a new pope, but today I find this city still remains the exciting culmination of nearly 2,700 years of history – from the weathered arches and stone-chipped columns of the Roman Forum, to Renaissance palaces and hand-sculpted Baroque fountains. It’s where Michelangelo’s frescoes – some of the world’s greatest artworks – glorify the ceiling and walls of the Vatican’s Sistine Chapel. And jutting off the popular Baroque-era Spanish Steps, the narrow Via Condotti is lined with boutiques and shops where 21st-century high fashion also defines the ambiance of this most ancient town.

Blades of grass and wildflowers now protrude from the rows of crumbling stone walls that were once underground passages of the Roman Empire’s prominent amphitheater, the Colosseum. I behold the weathered columns and arches, astonished how a third and fourth level have remained intact on one side of this enormous arena for more than 19 centuries. Opened around 80 AD, this is where armor-cloaked gladiators fought to the death – where pouncing lions mauled both the fearless and fearful. Today, however, it’s quiet inside except for the occasional buzzing of a distant noisy scooter. As I look around, I see a man in a quiet gaze who, perhaps like me, can only imagine the thunderous jeers from the crowds of more than 50,000 that once sat here.

The Colosseum sits within the Roman Forum, which was once the heart of the Roman Empire. “The Roman ruins represent our past, our heritage and the evidence that everything will come to pass,” points out Paola, my tour guide. “In fact, the Colosseum was the prototype of stadiums we have today.”

The Forum is the sight of some well-preserved arches and surviving stone columns of temples long gone. One standing seemingly untouched for 1,800 years is the Arch of Septimius Severus, erected in 203 AD as a monument to victories in battle led by the arch’s namesake, a second-century emperor. Another ruin catching my eye is where the House of the Vestal Virgins once stood. It’s where I see young visitors sunning themselves on brick ledges along a peaceful courtyard. Only a few walls remain of the two and three story buildings that once housed women who took a vow of chastity – those virgins still depicted to this day by the eroded and headless statues lining the courtyard.

Rome’s best preserved reminder of its ancient civilization, however, is not within the Roman Forum, but just a short walk away. From the outside, the Pantheon’s immense, columned portico may seem like those of other temples. But as I walk inside, this architectural phenomenon reveals Roman engineers knew what they were doing. Built around 120 AD by the emperor Hadrian, its renowned feature is its enormous dome with a round opening at the top called the oculus. For centuries, the oculus provided the only light to illuminate its spacious atrium, which includes statues and the tombs of Renaissance old master Raphael and two Italian kings.

Vatican City is a separate sovereign state with its own judicial system and post office. Although it is the world’s smallest state, within its 100 acres sits some of the most well-known works of art. And my passion to see them has lured me back.

I again stop in St. Peter’s Basilica, but this time to admire Michelangelo’s Pieta, the stunning marble sculpture of the Virgin Mary with the body of Christ. The Renaissance artist was only 24 when he completed it in 1499. I then head to the Vatican Museums to see more of Michelangelo and his contemporary Raphael. While the museums’ long corridors are filled with statues, sculptures and other antiquities from mostly the ancient Greek and Roman civilizations, I dart straight to the Sistine Chapel and the Raphael Rooms.

Taking up the entire alter wall of the Sistine Chapel, Michelangelo’s “Last Judgment” depicts scenes of souls rising into heaven or damned to hell, while his renowned ceiling frescoes depict scenes from the Old Testament, including the creation of Adam and Eve, and Noah and The Flood. Stretching my neck up to look at the subjects cloaked in hues of bright red and muted earthen tones can indeed be tiring. But my aches are assuaged slightly as I imagine the hardship Michelangelo endured while painting these masterpieces for four years – climbing up scaffolding every day, with paint dripping into his eyes as he dabbed his brush on section after section of wet plaster.

Raphael was commissioned to redecorate the private apartments of Pope Julius II in 1508, with his profound work now surviving in the Vatican Museum’s Raphael Rooms. “I see perfection, ideal balance and harmony,” says tour guide Paola, describing the High Renaissance artworks painted mostly by the artist and his students. The old master died before it was all completed.

“Meet me at the Spanish Steps!” That’s what writers, romantics and visitors have been doing since the famous landmark was built around 1725. This grand staircase, with a series of steps and a terrace of sorts halfway up, is also a popular resting point where locals and tourists love to hang out and people watch. Another great meeting place is Piazza Navona – a lively, elongated square with three ornate fountains. Once the sight of a Roman stadium, the piazza is lined with restaurants and cafes, and attracts throngs to watch street artists and musicians.

While in Rome, don’t miss a visit to the Capitoline Hill area. Once the political heart of the Roman Empire, it is now centered by Michelangelo’s Piazza del Campidoglio, where the artist designed the building facades and the square’s unique crisscross paving pattern. Palaces here, known as the Capitoline Museums, house collections that include Roman and Greek sculpture, frescoes and paintings. Nearby sits the majestic, multi-columned Victor Emmanuel Monument. Dedicated to the first king of unified Italy, this colossal structure includes a museum highlighting the unification.

Yet another popular sight is the circular fortress on the Tiber River, the Castel Sant’Angelo. For shopping – if you can afford it – there’s Via Condotti with international fashion designer stores. But during my last day here, I instead walk to the Trevi Fountain, the city’s largest and grandest, where water spurts and trickles on eloquently carved rock centered by a figure of Neptune.

“Do you know the legend of the coin?” asks Paola. “If you throw a coin in the fountain, you will come back to Rome.” So I toss in a handful of coins, hoping to return again and again.