How I accidentally spent the night at one of Rome’s most historic LGBTQ+ clubs
You can step out for pasta and stumble upon LGBTQ+ history in Rome.
Mark
Rome is a modern city unlike any other, where you can spot ancient ruins peeking up from the ground next to Sephora, and a glass-windowed Starbucks serves pricey espresso martinis mere steps from where gladiators battled to the death at the Colosseum.
You can step out for pasta and a glass of rosé, then stumble upon history — and that’s exactly how I found the Alibi Club.
Pack your bags, we’re going on an adventure
Subscribe to our weekly newsletter for the best LGBTQ+ travel guides, stories, and more.
Subscribe to our Newsletter today
On a recent Saturday night in celebration of some friends’ birthdays, I found myself (and an entourage of nearly 20 other pleasantly buzzed Americans) stranded in the rain on Monte Testaccio. The artificial hill is built almost entirely from testae, a.k.a. discarded pieces of broken pottery and terracotta shards from the Roman Empire, and was once the center of intense commercial activity. Now, it’s home to several locally frequented nightclubs, bars, and event spaces.
Which is how we ended up there, hoping to bribe our way into a sold-out disco night, to no avail.
With the perfect cocktail of sweat, elation, and, well, actual cocktail, coursing through our bodies, an early night was not an option. So, we trudged downhill to the next club, greeted by a line of eager partygoers cozied under umbrellas and an awning that read, “L’Alibi.” I took a breath to find my ID and noticed a rainbow-striped sign by the door. A friend nodded toward the mostly well-dressed and male crowd ahead of me, and I started to hear the rumblings of a Britney song starting on the other side of the wall.
In that moment, I realized our crew had just so happened to stumble upon an LGBTQ+ club — and it was going to be a great night.
A place for openness and free thought
According to its website, the Alibi Club was founded in the 1970s and quickly became a hub for the city’s early LGBTQ+ movement, developing a reputation as “a place of openness and free thought.” (For some context, queer marriage is currently illegal in Italy, and same-sex unions weren’t legalized until 2016.) In that spirit, the space doesn’t operate like a typical gay club, where you flash your license, pay a cover, and call it a day. To enter, visitors must pay for a membership — which starts at six euros — and register their name and identification. By joining, you agree to its statutes and rules, a means of operation that helps ensure every night is a “safe space.” (We also paid for a ticket for that night’s party, perfectly themed to the MTV Video Music Awards, which included a drink token.)
Inside, we saw an industrial-looking space with exposed brick walls, flashing colored lights, a well-stocked bar, and a modest stage adorned with mirrors, screens, and disco balls. Over the speakers, the DJ started to remix a Taylor Swift song into Ariana Grande, Miley Cyrus, and Lana Del Rey’s oft-forgotten collab, “Don’t Call Me Angel,” and instantly, I felt at home.
Unlike most of the wine bars, piazzas, and other spots we visited, a diverse crowd of queer men and women, non-binary folks, and heterosexual allies filled the Alibi Club.
On the bottom floor, it was bop after bop, from Dua Lipa and ABBA, to a Y2K Jennifer Lopez hit that inspired the birthday girl in our group to hop on stage and live out her music video fantasy. Right around midnight, a drag queen took the stage for a skillful live rendition of Lady Gaga’s iconic “Paparazzi” performance, and a trio performed a stunning number to “Golden,” the inescapable chart-topper from KPop Demon Hunters.
Through a dim hallway and up a flight of stairs, a smaller room crowded in fog was soundtracked the entire night by hot and heavy techno beats. That said, no one danced harder than an older gentleman in a black tank top, who arrived alone but found a friend in every person on the dance floor. He thrashed and gyrated, radiating jubilant energy from every limb, grinding against poles, and, at one point, grabbing the doorframe and showing off with a few pull-ups.
That wasn’t all, either. A few paces through a different hallway downstairs led to another room, but it was too dark to see much of what was going on, if you catch my drift. But it sounded like a fun time, according to a straight man in our group who stumbled upon it in search of a bathroom.
As a New Yorker who can find an LGBTQ+ club in any neighborhood on any given night, it can be easy to take safe and queer-friendly spaces for granted. But as I shook my hips and screamed out lyrics and laughed with my friends, new and old, I was reminded of the magic these types of places, especially those rooted in history, hold. In this sea of sweat, vape smoke, and well liquor, the trans woman in a crop-top and the twink with his boyfriend and our riding-solo black tank top hero were able to all dance as equals, and didn’t mind if a few dozen Americans crashed their party.
Related
The most famous church in the world is also a gay landmark
The unvirginal hands of a gay man decorated the walls and ceilings the most famous church in the world: the Sistine Chapel.
It was on the right side of 2 a.m. (and too many vodka Red Bulls) that our full American coterie reunited outside of the Alibi Club. The rain had stopped, but it didn’t matter, because we had already danced ourselves clean.
Not yet ready for the night to end, someone called a car to the Trevi Fountain, where the gates typically blocking tourists from crowding the historic watering hole’s edge were taken down.
I pulled a coin from my wallet, closed my eyes, and made one last late-night wish: not to forget how much fun we accidentally had tonight.
Join the GayCities newsletter for weekly updates on the best LGBTQ+ destinations and events—nearby and around the world.
