If you’re anything like me, you used to be obsessed with Lizzie McGuire, and you’ve seen the Lizzie McGuire Movie. If you have no idea what I’m talking about, you’re seriously missing out, so here’s a quick trailer of the movie for reference.

While I did not meet a European hottie or find my famous European doppelganger… this night in Rome left me feeling like I stepped straight into the Lizzie McGuire movie. And here’s why.

Venturing to “Club Vicious”

After a day touring the city and a nice Italian dinner with some of my hostel roommates, I went out with two girls from Tennessee. One of the girls had heard of this supposedly awesome club called Vicious (or something “cool” like that.) She said it was nearby so we decided to walk to it. After about 45 minutes of walking in circles, we finally found the club across town. Guess what? It was closed! This seems to be a common theme for my European nightlife. *sigh*

Pub Crawl…more like Pub NOPE

After an hour of looking for the club and it being closed, we decided to meet up with the pub crawl our hostel was hosting. I went on it the night before and had remembered one of the bars being near a river. So we hopped in a cab and headed to St. Angelo Something… (a building near a river, according to our cab driver. Super vague.)

Frolicking in forbidden fountains

We didn’t end up finding the bar we were looking for, but there was a large fountain where we were dropped off. We decided “when in Rome,” slid off our sandals and jumped in the fountain. After about 15 minutes of splashing around with these two Tennessee strangers, and taking countless photos on their phones (which I will never see), the police decided to make an appearance. We were nervous at first, but one of them laughed and said “next time I drive around here, you girls better be out of this fountain.”  So we played a little while longer and got out. Ready for our next adventure.

The 3rd time…sucks just as bad as the first two

I eventually remembered the name of one of the bars on on the pub crawl: Highlander. So we hopped in another cab and made our way there…only to be disappointed again. As soon as we walked into the pub, I realized it was the Irish bar, the first bar in the pub crawl. The bartenders remembered me from the night before, so they gave us some free drinks. They pointed us in the direction of the club that our hostel’s pub crawl had gone to next. The manager told us to find a cab and tell them the name of the club and that they should know how to get there.

Gypsy cabs, gosh darn it

We walked down the desolate road and waited about 10 minutes until we finally found a cab. We hopped in and told the cabby the club name. We quickly learned that he didn’t even speak English. And the cab fair started at 10 Euro. No thank you! We jumped out as he started driving off. Okay so maybe this is sounding a little anti-Lizzie McGuire Movie…but it gets better, I swear!

Finding my Paolo

After hearing the girls bicker for what seamed like an eternity, I turned around and walked away…never to see them again. I walked back to the Irish pub, only to find that they were closing for the night. I wanted to cry. I just wanted to hangout at a bar in Rome! The manager, Demetri, said he could give me a ride to the club that the hostel had gone to, so I hopped on the back of this stranger’s Vespa and away we went.

Probably not the wisest choice, as a female on my own…but hey, if you can’t trust a random bar manager with a Vespa in Rome, who can you trust?

As we cruised around the city, we stopped by bars along the way. One of the bars was especially memorable: it had low-hanging trees, retro DJ equipment, and Roman hippies who didn’t speak a lick of English. At the end of the night we finally made it to the club, just as it was closing. From what I remember, it was woodsy and there were fire pits and pine trees…but that doesn’t sound very Rome-esque, so I very well could’ve been too intoxicated to properly recall at that point. I guess we’ll never know.

Afterwards, Demetri was kind enough to drop me off at my hostel. He conveniently knew where it was located, since the hostel frequently did the pub crawl at his bar. Good thing too, cuz I was lost in Rome and had no clue where we were. Thank you kind stranger whom I will never see again.

Okay so maybe I tend to exaggerate a bit

After putting it into words, I guess my night didn’t seem as “Lizzie McGuire Movie” as I had initially thought. But it was a July night in Rome, full of unexpected events and plot twists. And I loved it.

Have you had a night full of surprises? Let’s hear about it in the comments below!