What cultural etiquette should I know for Rome?

The cappuccino rule is real, and it's the first thing Romans will judge you on. Milk-based coffee is a morning drink here — ordering one after lunch in a trattoria near Campo de' Fiori will get you a look that's polite but unmistakable. After 11am, it's espresso. Standing at the bar, not sitting. You'll pay €1.20 standing versus €3.50 seated at most places in the centro storico. Say "un caffè" and nothing else. The barista already knows what you mean.

Greetings matter more than you'd expect. Walk into any shop — a salumeria in Testaccio, a leather goods place near Via del Governo Vecchio, a pharmacy — and say "buongiorno" before you ask for anything. Not doing so reads as rude, full stop. In bars it's looser: "ciao, un caffè" works fine. The formality scales with the setting. Restaurant hosts get "buongiorno" or "buonasera" after roughly 5pm. You'll hear Romans switch between the two around that hour and nobody agrees on the exact cutoff. Don't stress it. Either one, said warmly, does the job.

Queueing in Rome operates on an honour system that looks like chaos but isn't. At the deli counter in Roscioli or any alimentari, you'll hear "chi è l'ultimo?" — who's last? — when you walk in. Find that person, remember you're after them. There's no physical line. Cut an older person, an anziano, and the whole room will let you know. Romans have deep respect for their elders in daily interactions, even when they're honking at each other in traffic five minutes later. The contradiction is part of the texture here.

Churches enforce dress codes and the guards at St. Peter's Basilica will turn you away without discussion — no bare shoulders, no shorts above the knee, no hats inside. This applies to smaller churches too: Santa Maria in Trastevere, Sant'Ignazio, San Luigi dei Francesi. Women sometimes carry a light scarf in their bag for exactly this reason, even in July when the cobblestones radiate heat and the air sits heavy and still. Silence inside is expected. Phone cameras on silent. Flash off. The Trevi Fountain area has its own rules now: sitting on the fountain rim carries a fine up to €450, and the vigili urbani do enforce it, usually between 10am and midnight when the crowds are thickest.

Tipping confuses visitors because the coperto — a per-person cover charge, usually €2-3 — is already on every restaurant bill and it's legal. That's not your tip; that's a table fee. On top of that, leaving €1-2 in coins is generous. Nobody expects 15-20% like in the US. At a sit-down place like Da Enzo al 29 in Trastevere, rounding up the bill or leaving a few euros is the move. Taxi drivers: round to the nearest euro. Hotel housekeeping: €1 per night left on the pillow, though plenty of Romans would tell you even that is optional. The emotional register here is different — service workers don't depend on tips the way they do in American cities, so tipping reads as a thank-you rather than an obligation.