We are Connie and Gianluca, and we are the owners of QuodLibet, our small guest house in Rome.
We have been working in hospitality since 1998, and over time it has naturally become our full-time job — not just a profession, but something that continues to interest and involve us every day.
We are married since 2005 and have two daughters, Roberta and Maria Beatrice. QuodLibet is very much part of our daily life, even if we don’t live in the property itself, but just a few blocks away. We are around most of the time, and always available when needed.
Connie takes care of the booking side and the relationship with guests before arrival, while Gianluca is usually the one you will meet in person — when you arrive, and often in the morning during breakfast. Over the years, this natural division has helped us keep a direct and personal approach with our guests, both before and during their stay.
We both studied Italian Literature at the University of Rome “La Sapienza”, where we met — Connie focusing on Literary Criticism, Gianluca on Cultural Anthropology. By a series of circumstances, we found ourselves in hospitality, and we discovered that it suited us well.
What we try to offer is not just a place to stay, but a way to experience Rome that feels simple, comfortable, and personal. Being present — without being intrusive — is an important part of how we work. Sometimes this means suggesting a place, sometimes just being available for a conversation, sometimes simply making sure everything runs smoothly.
We pay a lot of attention to details, but also to the overall feeling of the stay. We like when guests tell us that things felt easy, that they could move around the city without effort, and that they found a place where they could relax at the end of the day.
If this is the kind of stay you are looking for, we will be happy to welcome you.
A day at QuodLibet
A day at QuodLibet usually starts quietly.
Breakfast is served on the terrace, at a relaxed pace. There is no rush, and no fixed way to experience it. Some guests enjoy a conversation over coffee, others prefer to take their time more privately. Both feel equally natural.
This is often the moment when the day begins to take shape.
Sometimes we exchange a few words about plans, or suggest a place to visit. Other times, we simply make sure everything is there, and let the morning unfold on its own. There is always the possibility to interact, but never the expectation.
During the day, everyone moves through Rome in their own way. And then, at some point, you come back.
That moment matters more than it may seem.
A quiet room, a comfortable bed, a space that feels cared for rather than arranged. A shower that works well, with good water pressure, and enough space to relax after a long day walking through the city. Small details that are not always visible at first, but make the difference over time.
The neighborhood plays its part too. We are in a central area, but outside the most crowded streets — a place where you can step out into Rome, and just as easily find your way back without effort.
And once you are back, rested and refreshed, the evening can begin again — this time more slowly. Within just a few minutes’ walk, there are many small, local restaurants, places that belong to the neighborhood rather than to tourism. It is the kind of area where eating well is part of everyday life, and where it is easy to find something simple, genuine, and quietly memorable.
After dinner, some guests simply return to their room, while others like to extend the evening a little further. The terrace remains open, and sometimes becomes a quiet place to sit for a while — perhaps with a bottle of wine, exchanging a few words, or simply enjoying the atmosphere. With the evening light, it takes on a different character, more intimate, almost suspended above the city.
In the evening, the house becomes quiet again. Guests return at different times, each carrying their own experience of the city — a place discovered, a detail noticed, something that stayed with them.
There is no fixed rhythm, and no particular structure to follow.
Just a sense of ease, of having a place that adapts naturally to your way of traveling — whether that means sharing a moment, or simply enjoying your own space.