By Amy Pigeon
My first visit was in 2010, fresh out of university—wide-eyed and overwhelmed by the scale of it all: the ruins, the chaos, the beauty layered so thick it felt impossible to absorb in one lifetime. I didn’t know then that Rome would quietly stay with me, waiting. It wasn’t until a return visit in the summer of 2024—tired, inspired, and standing at a crossroads—that Rome truly claimed me. That trip became the emotional spark behind the launch of VeraVita: a magazine born from Italy’s ability to slow you down, open you up, and remind you why beauty matters.
So when I found myself arriving at NH Collection Roma Fori Imperiali, it felt less like checking into a hotel and more like continuing a long conversation with a city that knows me well.
We’ve come to trust NH Collection over time. Past stays at NH Roma Centro and, more recently, NH Collection Palazzo Verona have shown us what the brand does best: exceptional locations, beautifully restored historic buildings, and service that feels human rather than performative. NH Collection properties are always placed exactly where you want to be—inside the rhythm of a city, not observing it from the sidelines. It’s a philosophy rooted in place, something I spoke about at length with Sabrina Masic, General Manager of the hotel, during our stay.
As Sabrina explained, NH Collection properties are often housed in former palazzi, offices, or landmark buildings—spaces that already carry history and meaning. “We don’t choose locations randomly,” she told me. “We choose places that already have a story, and our responsibility is to honour that story while making guests feel completely at ease within it.”
Roma Fori Imperiali, a former municipal building reopened as a hotel in 2019, embodies that approach perfectly. With just 40 rooms, it feels intimate by design—less like a hotel, more like a private Roman residence overlooking one of the most iconic stretches of the city.
I arrived in the low afternoon light, that unmistakable Roman glow that softens everything it touches. Sunlight spilled into the reception, catching the edges of the Vittorio Emanuele II Monument, so close it feels woven into the building itself. Claudio greeted me at check-in—warm, calm, genuinely kind. After five whirlwind days in the much colder north, visiting Barolo wineries, tartufo fairs in Alba, and Parmigiano Reggiano and balsamic producers in Parma and Modena, that welcome felt like an exhale.
There’s no spa here. No gym. “Whatever am I going to write about?” I thought to myself at check-in. And then, I saw my room.
The Suite Fori Imperiali—the most exceptional room in the property—was so spectacular that my worries about having too little to write about were immediately humbled. I could write an entire story about the suite alone if I had to.
The space unfolds in gentle layers: warm wood floors, a plush teal velvet sofa punctuated by rust-coloured cushions, and a softly lit sitting area designed for lingering. Brass accents catch the light just enough—sculptural floor lamps, slim table legs, subtle trims—adding warmth without excess. Spacious, serene, and deeply calming, it’s luxury without shouting.
The sleeping area feels almost ceremonial. Crisp white linens, a deep upholstered headboard, and a mural-style wall depicting classical Roman landscapes—temples, trees, pastoral scenes rendered in muted, timeworn tones—offer a quiet nod to the city outside, grounding the room firmly in Rome without ever feeling heavy-handed.
Then there’s the bath, set slightly apart like a private ritual within the suite. A deep soaking tub sits elevated against a textured mural wall, inviting you to slow down completely. With a simple call about an hour before your return, the front desk will draw the bath for you—so it’s already full, warm, and waiting. It’s a small gesture, but one that feels profoundly indulgent, like the city itself has decided to take care of you for the evening.
From the tub, you can look back into the living space, the lighting dimmed just enough to feel cocooning and restorative. The bathroom itself is expansive and immaculate, with a wide illuminated mirror, a sculptural basin sink, plush white towels, and thoughtful details that elevate even the most routine moments. An elegant Etna toiletry set sits neatly by the sink—almost too beautiful to be used and far more suited to being wrapped up and regifted to Canadian loved ones back home… which is exactly what I did.
My travel companion noticed something that stayed with me: a staff member checking rooms after they had already been cleaned, inspecting each one for final approval. That extra layer of care speaks volumes. As Sabrina put it, “Guests may arrive because of the view, but they return because of how consistently cared for they feel. Excellence lives in the details people never think to look for.”
Waiting in the room was freshly baked focaccia with marinara, still warm, alongside a chilled bottle of Prosecco. Nothing elaborate. Nothing forced. Just generous Italian hospitality at its most honest.
Not long after settling in, we returned to reception with a familiar request: traditional Roman restaurants near Trastevere and the Pantheon—but not touristy. A challenge for any visitor. Our concierge smiled and nodded without hesitation, offering several thoughtful recommendations and choosing one on our behalf. It was exactly what we had asked for—proof that local knowledge, when shared generously, becomes part of the stay.
That evening, we returned to a turndown that felt quietly perfect: chocolates placed just so, a hydrating eye mask and sleep mask laid out beside the bed, earplugs offered (entirely unnecessary, given how peacefully quiet the rooms are), and a small card with the next morning’s weather forecast. It felt like someone had gently tucked the room in for the night, anticipating needs before they were ever articulated—a philosophy Sabrina had spoken about earlier, where true luxury lives not in grand gestures, but in quiet attentiveness.
The sleep that followed was cloud-like and deeply restorative—the kind that resets your nervous system and makes you realize just how tired you were. Mamma mia. This was a bed I longed to stay with all day—alas, Roman adventures awaited.
The next morning brought what may have been the best hotel breakfast I’ve ever had—anywhere. But before the food even arrived, it was the setting that stopped me.
Breakfast is served in a sun-drenched rooftop space wrapped in floor-to-ceiling windows, where the morning sun spills in softly, warming the room as Rome slowly comes to life below. From our table, the Vittorio Emanuele II Monument stood luminous in the early light, while the ruins beneath it—ancient, silent, eternal—reminded you just how layered this city truly is. It felt surreal to sip coffee above history, suspended between modern comfort and centuries of civilization.
Everything is made in-house. Everything. A full continental spread arrived at the table—cheeses, cold cuts, fruit, yogurt, pastries, breads—almost like an amuse-bouche before the spectacular à la carte dishes that followed. The bread alone deserves its own moment: a grainy, house-made sourdough so moist it felt cool beneath my fingertips. Each morning brought a different freshly baked cake—apricot tart one day, chocolate and vanilla the next. Moist beyond belief. I ordered waffles smothered in Nutella with a mysterious, sinful crunch—possibly sanding sugar. My peer chose banana bread with house-made peanut butter. Yes, they make their own peanut butter.
The experience was elevated further by our glowing server, Ariane—tiny, radiant, and full of personality. Equal parts server, entertainer, comedian, and kind human.
I’m rarely a breakfast person when I travel. I usually want to get moving, overpacking my day with a healthy serving of chaos and poor time management. This breakfast made me pause. Willingly. Longingly. Starting the day the Italian way—slow, indulgent, full of food, love, and connection.
That same space transforms in the evening into Secret View – Rooftop Cocktail Bar, a name that feels almost too modest for what it offers. As the sun dips and the city turns gold, the rooftop fills organically—locals, travellers, regulars—drawn by word of mouth rather than hype.
The aperitivo was generous and thoughtful: beautifully crafted mocktails, fragrant cocktails, and snacks that kept arriving—root chips, crunchy-yet-fluffy taralli, soft almonds. Then came the tartare. Garlic, aioli, shaved truffle. Delicate yet indulgent. Sophisticated, clean, perfectly balanced. The best tartare I’ve had anywhere—hotel or otherwise.
My first cocktail was a beet-and-gin creation with a bitter-sweet rim. Herbaceous. Elegant. Memorable. The staff encouraged us to stay longer, enjoy fully. And we did.
What stayed with me most, beyond the views and the food, was the sense that nothing here is accidental. NH Collection understands that luxury isn’t about offering everything—it’s about doing a few things extraordinarily well. It’s about place, people, and care.
That philosophy extends beyond Rome. During our conversation, Sabrina shared plans for future NH Collection properties in Sardegna and Puglia—destinations for those who crave coastal beauty and southern soul. I hope—desperately—to visit both. It’s reassuring to see a hospitality group investing thoughtfully across Italy, restoring historic buildings, expanding with intention, and staying rooted in the character of each place.
NH Collection Roma Fori Imperiali reminded me why Rome keeps pulling me back—not with spectacle, but with heart. As I packed my bags and took one last look out at Rome, what stayed with me wasn’t just the view or the beauty of the space—it was the feeling of being quietly, consistently cared for. The sense that every detail had been considered before I ever thought to ask.
It echoed something Sabrina had said to me in passing, almost offhandedly, yet with total conviction: that the most meaningful hospitality is invisible, felt rather than noticed. NH Collection Roma Fori Imperiali embodies that belief. Not through spectacle, but through attentiveness. Through restraint. Through moments that arrive exactly when you need them. And in a city as overwhelming and magnificent as Rome, that kind of calm, thoughtful presence is not just a luxury—it’s a gift. – VV
Photography courtesy of the NH Collection Roma Fori Imperiali and Amy Pigeon, and videography by Drew DePalma
