Valentina Nappi’s Top 5 Favorite Roman Spots

Valentina Nappi doesn’t just act in films-she lives in Rome like someone who knows every alley, every café, and every quiet corner that tourists never find. She’s been photographed in Trastevere at sunrise, sipping espresso without a camera in sight. She’s walked the cobblestones of Monti before the tour buses roll in. And she’s sat on the steps of the Spanish Steps not to pose, but to watch the world move. For her, Rome isn’t a backdrop. It’s home.

1. Piazza Trilussa in Trastevere

You’ll find Valentina here most evenings, especially in autumn. Piazza Trilussa isn’t the postcard version of Trastevere-it’s the one locals know. No big signs, no line for gelato, just a few stone benches under the trees, a small fountain that never stops, and the smell of roasted chestnuts in the air. The trattoria across the street, Da Enzo, has been around since 1958. Valentina says she comes here for the cacio e pepe that tastes like her grandmother used to make. The owner, Enzo, doesn’t even ask what she wants anymore. He just brings it, warm, with a glass of house red.

Most visitors head straight to Piazza Santa Maria in Trastevere. But Valentina calls that the "tourist zone." Piazza Trilussa? That’s where the real rhythm of the neighborhood lives. You’ll hear Italian being spoken, not English. You’ll see kids playing soccer with a crumpled ball. And you’ll see Valentina, sometimes, just watching it all.

2. The Aventine Keyhole

It’s not a secret, but most people don’t know how to find it. The keyhole is on the door of the Priory of the Knights of Malta, tucked between two ivy-covered walls on the Aventine Hill. Walk up the narrow staircase from Piazza dei Cavalieri di Malta, and you’ll see it: a perfectly framed view of St. Peter’s Dome, centered like a painting. Valentina says she comes here when she needs to feel still. She doesn’t take photos. She just stands there, quiet, for five minutes. The symmetry is exact. The garden below is perfectly manicured. And the dome? It looks like it’s floating.

She told an interviewer once, "That keyhole doesn’t show you Rome. It shows you what Rome wants you to remember." It’s not about the view. It’s about the pause. That’s why she goes.

3. Mercato Centrale di San Lorenzo

Forget Campo de’ Fiori. Valentina’s market is San Lorenzo. It’s where students, artists, and locals shop for fresh pasta, wild fennel, and handmade mozzarella. The stalls here don’t have English labels. The butchers speak fast. The fishmonger asks if you want the sea bream scaled or not. Valentina says she learned to cook Roman food here-not from recipes, but from watching.

She always buys the same thing: a loaf of pane di Altamura, a bundle of rosemary, and a small jar of peperoncino from a woman who’s been selling it since 1987. She doesn’t haggle. She just smiles and says, "Grazie, Anna." The woman nods back like they’ve known each other for years. And they have.

On weekends, there’s live music in the back. Not for tourists. For neighbors. Valentina says that’s when the market feels most alive.

4. The Baths of Caracalla at Dusk

Most people visit the Baths of Caracalla in the afternoon, with a guidebook and a selfie stick. Valentina goes at sunset. She sits on the broken marble steps, where the stones are still warm from the day. She doesn’t care about the history. She cares about the silence. The ruins stretch out like a forgotten city. No crowds. No vendors. Just the wind moving through the columns.

She says the best time is right after the last tour group leaves. The guards turn off the lights one by one. The shadows grow long. And for a few minutes, you’re the only one who remembers how big this place used to be. She’s seen the moon rise over the caldarium more times than she can count. "It’s the only place in Rome," she says, "where you can feel ancient and alone at the same time."

5. Via della Madonna dei Monti in Monti

This street is barely wide enough for two people to walk side by side. It runs between two old apartment buildings, with laundry hanging overhead and vines climbing the walls. No signs. No shops. Just a single bench and a tiny shrine to the Virgin Mary with candles that never go out.

Valentina walks this street every Sunday morning. She says it’s her meditation. The air smells like bread from the bakery down the block and wet stone from last night’s rain. She doesn’t go to church. But she stops here. She touches the wall. She says a quiet word. Then she keeps walking.

It’s not a tourist attraction. It’s not even on most maps. But for Valentina, it’s the quietest, most honest place in Rome. No one takes pictures here. No one tries to sell you anything. Just the sound of a door closing, a cat stretching, and the distant ring of a bicycle bell.

Why These Places? Not the Famous Ones

Valentina doesn’t avoid the Colosseum or the Vatican. She’s been there. But she doesn’t go back. Not because she doesn’t respect them. But because they don’t belong to her. These five spots? They do. They’re where she eats, breathes, and remembers. Rome isn’t about the monuments. It’s about the moments between them.

She once said in an interview, "I don’t need to see the Trevi Fountain to feel Roman. I just need to hear the water in my building’s fountain at 6 a.m., and know someone’s already made coffee for the day."

What You Can Take From Her Rome

You don’t need to be a celebrity to find these places. You just need to slow down. Skip the guided tours. Walk without a map. Talk to the people who work the stalls. Say "grazie" instead of "thank you." Sit on a bench and wait. Rome doesn’t rush. Neither should you.

Go to Piazza Trilussa after dark. Stand in front of the Aventine keyhole without your phone. Eat your pasta at Mercato Centrale like you’re not being watched. Watch the sun set over the Baths of Caracalla. And walk down Via della Madonna dei Monti like you’re not in a hurry to get anywhere.

That’s how Valentina knows Rome. Not because she’s famous. But because she chose to live in it-not just visit it.