The Trevi Fountain in Rome is not only Baroque artistry but also a famed wishing well. By some estimates, visitors toss about €3,000 each day into the Trevi’s waters – roughly €1–1.5 million per year. Local lore says that throwing a coin with one’s back to the fountain (right hand over left shoulder) guarantees a return to Rome. This is no mere tourist gimmick: it is a centuries-old ritual rooted in pagan tradition. Drawing on historical sources and firsthand accounts, this guide uncovers why we toss coins into the Trevi – from ancient water-deity offerings to modern film and charity – and explains the symbolism behind one, two, and three coins, as well as where all that money actually goes.
Long before Baroque Rome, people worldwide threw valuables into water to seek favor from deities. An act of offering to water gods was common in pagan cultures. In antiquity, Romans cast coins into rivers and wells as prayers for safe voyages and good fortune. A local belief held that consecrating a spring or fountain could summon divine protection. In Trevi’s case, this survives in the idea that the fountain’s waters itself were sacred, traced back to the legend of Aqua Virgo. According to myth, in 19 BC Roman soldiers discovered a fresh spring only after a young girl (the “virgo” or virgin) guided them there. The aqueduct built from that source, the Acqua Virgo, gave the Trevi Fountain its water and its name. Throwing coins into the Trevi is thus a modern echo of an ancient practice – a pagan homage to the power of water. Over time, as Rome’s paganism gave way to Christianity, the fountain’s waters kept their mystique. The underlying idea – propitiating a deity for good luck – merged with a specifically Roman superstition: the tossing of coins to ensure one’s safe return home.
The Trevi Fountain we see today was completed in 1762, but its story spans millennia. Its water is supplied by the Acqua Vergine aqueduct – itself a rebirth of Agrippa’s 19 BC canal. Aqueduct workers, as legend goes, only found the spring when a young maiden (the virgo of legend) led thirsty soldiers to it. Centuries later, Pope Clement XII (reigned 1730–1740) held a competition (1732) to redesign Rome’s fountains. Out of 28 entries, Nicola Salvi’s Baroque design won, edging out a rival Roman architect. Salvi broke ground in 1732, but he never saw completion: he died in 1751 with much work unfinished. After Salvi’s death, Giuseppe Pannini took over and the fountain was finally inaugurated on 22 May 1762 by Pope Clement XIII.
The name “Trevi” comes from tre vie, the “three roads” that once intersected at the fountain’s site. The square around it was even cleared of buildings to make room. The completed structure – about 85 feet high and 160 feet wide – is a travertine showpiece of civic pride. Its grandeur was meant to symbolize Rome’s resurgence and control of water. Indeed, the whole ensemble at Piazza Poli reads as a statement of taming nature: Oceanus (Neptune) and his chariot dominate the center, flanked by allegories of health and abundance. Through its history and scale, the Trevi Fountain became a fitting stage for a grand tradition – even if that tradition was a casual toss of a coin for a wish.
At the heart of Trevi, Oceanus (the god of all waters) stands triumphant. His figure, sculpted by Pietro Bracci, emerges from a shell-shaped chariot drawn by two horse-like hippocamps. Each hippocamp has a different expression, symbolizing the sea’s two moods – one calm, one turbulent – guided by the blowing Tritons. These tritons, youthful mermen, pull Oceanus’s chariot and reinforce the theme of humanity harnessing the powers of water.
Flanking Oceanus are two female figures: Abundance (left, pouring grains from a cornucopia) and Health or Salubrity (right, holding a cup from which a snake drinks). These personifications celebrate the life-giving qualities of water. The overall motif is literally spelled out on the facade: a Latin inscription reads “Fons • Virgineus • Copiae • Industria” – roughly, “Virgin [water] fountain, of plenty and ingenuity.” In effect, the fountain narrates the Taming of the Waters: Rome’s engineers channelled the pure spring (the “virgin” water) into a human-controlled architectural cascade.
The material itself reinforces permanence. Workers quarried pale travertine limestone from Tivoli to carve the blocks. The resulting white, textured stone gleams when wet, and invites touch – one reason the fountain draws in hands and coins alike. Visitors on the plaza today often pause in front of Oceanus, marveling at his details: his rippling beard, the horses, the ornate papal coat-of-arms overhead. Those details – so meticulously wrought – remind us that even a lighthearted ritual like coin-tossing takes place on a masterwork of art and engineering.
Helbig’s coin ritual merged with existing customs by drawing on a still-living superstition: wishing wells and sacred springs. Over decades, it shifted from a novelty among intellectuals to a popular tradition. The process was boosted enormously by media. For example, the 1954 Hollywood film Three Coins in the Fountain romanticized the legend and introduced it worldwide – implying that each coin grants a wish (and eventually fame). Federico Fellini’s La Dolce Vita (1960) further stamped Trevi into the global imagination. In that iconic scene, actress Anita Ekberg wades into the fountain by moonlight, splashing joyfully – a cinematic image that inadvertently advertises the coin toss to millions.
Despite these whimsies, coins are not thrown haphazardly. The established technique – right hand, back to fountain, over left shoulder – became codified over time. By the late 20th century, tossing a coin at Trevi had become a must-do. Guides and locals alike perpetuated the story that one coin means “return,” two coins mean “find love,” and three mean “marry in Rome”. (Some add that each coin must be thrown separately, not all at once.) In short, a modern ritual evolved organically from old myths: visitors were casting literal money into a monumental fountain, pledging wishes of future fortune.
From the start, tossing one coin has been understood as a vote of confidence in fate. The single-coin wish tradition – established in the early 1900s – carries the simple promise that “this visit will not be the last”. Essentially, one coin = your return to Rome. Thus almost every visitor does throw at least one, writing perhaps a mental “see you later.”
Folklore quickly added layers. By mid-century, Italians had come to say that a second coin secures true love – typically someone falling for an Italian – and a third coin escalates to marriage. The idea was popularized by storytelling guides and movies, but it echoes an older notion: Roman fountains were often linked to romantic legends. In Trevi’s case, one legend tells of a maiden praying to Neptune to save her soldier sweetheart; this tale dovetails with coin offerings as pleas for divine aid in love. Throwing two or three coins became a way to turn that divine help into a hopeful sign for finding a partner (and then marrying).
None of this has any formal sanction – it’s a living folk belief. City officials simply tolerate the superstition, recognizing it as harmless. But some tourists do ask, “Is it really true?” The answer is that the ritual is symbolic. A blockquote in a recent guide sums it up: “Many believe that by tossing one coin, a return to Rome is guaranteed, while the second coin secures a new love, and the third leads to marriage”. In short, the numbers 1, 2, and 3 become a mini wish-list. Whether or not fate is real, the fountain’s basin has become a communal ledger of hopes: each coin is a personal vow etched in the fountain’s surface.
Getting the technique wrong is almost as bad as not tossing at all. Tradition calls for a very particular ritual action:
Followed properly, this little ceremony lasts only a few seconds – each toss accompanied by a private wish. Guidebooks emphasize doing it deliberately and perhaps closing your eyes or making a mental prayer. Importantly, visitors are cautioned not to linger in the water or attempt to retrieve coins. In fact, the city now even has rules: during recent restoration work the fountain basin was drained, and city officials warned that tossing coins at the drained fountain would incur a €50 fine. (Instead, special shallow pools or donation boxes have been provided.) In normal times, tossing is allowed, but touching the water is technically illegal – a modern rule to protect the monument.
Even apart from coins, Trevi inspired romantic myth. One local legend tells of a beautiful Roman girl and a soldier in ancient times. When the soldier went to war, the maiden prayed to Neptune to protect him. Legend says Neptune guided the soldier home, and he arrived at exactly this spring-fed fountain, where the maiden recognized and reunited with him. The story ends happily: the god answered a love prayer, and Trevi was forever associated with fidelity.
That legend also gave rise to the broken-glass tradition. In earlier centuries, young women in Rome would make their departing fiancés drink water from the Trevi (water said to be pure and fresh) and then ceremonially smash the glass. Breaking the cup was meant to symbolize unbreakable love – a dramatic act to show that, though physically apart, their relationship would remain whole. In effect, the broken fragments declared “our love will never shatter.”
On the right-hand side of the fountain is a small, lower basin with twin water spouts. Romans call it the Fontana degli Innamorati – the Lovers’ Fountain. By tradition, couples (or those nearly engaged) draw water from these spouts together. According to Rome city lore: if you drink Trevi water together and the glass is then broken before your partner leaves, the bond of love will hold forever. (It’s a roadside ceremony now mostly forgotten by tourists.) In any event, these stories reinforce the fountain’s character as not just a historical monument but a living romance talisman.
In modern times, however, any attempt to swim or wade in Trevi is strictly outlawed. Harking back to Anita Ekberg’s movie scene, some thrill-seekers still try it – but they pay a heavy price. In early 2025, a tourist who waded into the fountain to recreate that La Dolce Vita moment was fined €500 and banned from the site for life. Italian law now forbids bathing or even touching the water, and police patrol with cameras. (Visitors looking for nostalgia can instead admire the old film posters nearby – but the fountain itself must stay clean.)
Each day, city workers drain or skim the fountain to collect the coins. The sheer quantity is impressive. Authorities estimate roughly €3,000 in coins per day. Official figures (from 2016) put the annual haul at about €1.4 million, while recent reports give a range up to €1.5 million. Coins have arrived from every currency (visitors often toss cent denominations from other countries as well as euro cents).
Collection is done carefully: maintenance crews periodically drain the fountain or use nets and vacuum pumps to gather the treasure. One cable car or scaffold is never enough, so teams of workers and police stand by each sweep for security. When the coins emerge, they are counted and sorted.
Since 2001, the city has dedicated all Trevi coins to charity. Mayor Walter Veltroni decreed that the money go to local aid programs to stop historic corruption around the fountain. Today the entire sum is handed to Caritas Roma, the Catholic charity that runs soup kitchens, food distribution, shelters, and social services for the city’s poor. Caritas reports that coins from Trevi now account for a significant part (around 15%) of its annual budget. In practical terms, the ritual of tossing coins has become a vital donation stream: tourists’ wishes are literally feeding and sheltering vulnerable Romans.
Twice a year, after mass events or in off-season, city staff remove the coins. They gather them under police supervision and deposit the money into municipal coffers. By Italian law, all coins go to Caritas Roma. The charity then converts the coins into cash and uses them for community programs: buying ingredients for soup kitchens, providing food vouchers, and supporting homeless shelters. Sometimes coins fund specific projects (like holiday meals for the needy). Official reports highlight the positive spin: the fountain’s very superstition yields resources for the city’s most at-risk citizens.
A Caritas spokesman notes that the influx is so reliable that they can plan budgets around it. In a sense, the Trevi tradition has come full circle: coins that pilgrims once threw to please gods of water now serve as manna for Rome’s hungry and homeless. Guides often remind tourists that by participating in the ritual, they’re inadvertently paying it forward.
Given the money involved, theft attempts have arisen. Throughout history, enterprising individuals have tried to fish the fountain. In 2002 and again in 2011 Italian media exposed men who drained fountains to grab coins, with even municipal police sometimes complicit. In 2003, a court actually ruled that coins thrown into Trevi are legally “abandoned property,” meaning they cannot be stolen in the usual sense. However, local regulations explicitly forbid entering or tampering with the fountain. The current stance: Do not attempt to retrieve coins. Cameras and guards now watch the basin. City decrees threaten fines or even jail time for anyone caught trying.
In practice, any unauthorized removal of coins is illegal under city by-laws. Tourists have been fined and banned for wading, and even for climbing onto the fountain’s rocks. In late 2024 the mayor warned that tossing coins while the fountain is drained (for repairs) was punishable by a €50 fine. So far, actual theft (like fishing coins out) is rare today; the risk of being caught by police or security cameras is high. It’s safest to stick to the official ritual of tossing a coin, safe in the knowledge that the city itself is responsibly handling the treasure.
No shrine to wishes is complete without appearances in art and media. Films especially have cemented Trevi’s mythic status. The 1954 movie Three Coins in the Fountain (shot partly in Rome) actually took its title from the tossing ritual; the popular song (Frank Sinatra’s “Three Coins”) explicitly ties coin-throwing to seeking happiness in the Eternal City. The song’s lyric “Who is the one / To make my wish come true?” made the idea ubiquitous in postwar America.
A few years later, Federico Fellini’s La Dolce Vita (1960) immortalized Trevi forever. Anita Ekberg’s midnight swim scene made the fountain iconic, showing celebrities reveling in Roman life (and incidentally suggesting “you, too, can do this!”). Since then, dozens of movies and TV shows have featured Trevi, usually with lovers or expats making wishes. (A fun example: in The Lizzie McGuire Movie a Hollywood ex-pat throws a coin to stay in Rome, a wink at the tradition.)
Even world leaders have played along. In October 2021, G20 heads of state lined up to toss commemorative euro coins into Trevi. Cameras clicked as Joe Biden bowed out, but Macron, Johnson, Merkel and others each used the ritual to “bring back the happiness of before COVID,” as WHO Director Tedros humorously tweeted. Their coins – like everyone else’s – were minted special for the summit (with Da Vinci’s Vitruvian Man on one side).
Clearly, the Trevi fountain has a life in the culture far beyond its stone and water. Tour guides love to point out that even royalty have queued up here. Other than La Dolce Vita, one must emphasize: you cannot swim in Trevi today. Strict rules make it illegal, and fines of €500 are imposed on anyone jumping in. (That’s a far cry from Anita Ekberg’s carefree splash. “La Dolce Vita made fountain-wading iconic, but today Rome bans it to protect the monument,” notes a travel report.) Instead, visitors take pictures, toss coins, and remember those cinematic moments from a distance.
Beyond coin-tossing, Trevi has accrued a few local rituals. We’ve already mentioned the Lovers’ Fountain ritual on the right side. Another curious practice was historically drinking from Trevi’s water. Even though the fountain was built in a regal plaza, it functions as a mostra – a masterpiece fountain of the Acqua Vergine. In Rome, that means its water is legally potable. Until modern plumbing, locals and pilgrims drank freely from ornamental fountains. At Trevi, couples would once draw water with a small cup and drink to salute one another. Because the Acqua Vergine is “some of the purest drinking-water in Rome” even today, the legend of drinking did have a kernel of truth.
By long-standing custom, however, guests nowadays should not gulp from Trevi itself. (City signs and guards deter drinking from the basin.) Instead, Romans head to a nasoni – a public water tap – nearby for a refreshment. The new post-restoration rules even pointed out that Trevi’s water circulates, so jumping in or drinking directly can stir algae. As one guide bluntly says, “you wouldn’t drink it, no matter how clear it looks.” So although technically safe, fountain water is now enjoyed only via spouts, preserving hygiene.
In short, the Trevi Fountain is surrounded by superstitions for all occasions: wishing well coins, lovers’ drink and smash, and the one thing you shouldn’t do (swim or grab coins). Each of these practices has an interesting backstory, tying the Baroque landmark to everyday life in Rome.
For first-time visitors, throwing a coin is only part of the experience. One challenge is simply getting near the fountain. At peak times, the square is jam-packed. To avoid the crush, go early in the morning (shortly after sunrise) or very late at night. Many guides note that around noon or at sunset there’s still massive crowds. (Tip: The moments just before 9 AM or after 10 PM can be surprisingly calm, giving you a half-hour of peace.)
Because of crowding, Rome now requires timed entry during the busiest months. Since late 2023 the city has roped off the area and created a visitor system. Groups of up to 400 people are allowed in for 30-minute visits via advance booking. (As of 2025, an official €2 entry fee was being piloted for close-up access.) Walk-ons are still possible from the peripheral steps of Piazza di Trevi, but check Rome’s tourism site for the latest rules.
Once at the fountain, keep these etiquette points in mind:
– Use any Euro coin. There’s no requirement for a specific denomination. Many tourists toss a small one-cent coin – that’s perfectly fine. The fountain collects all sorts (in fact, coins from dozens of currencies have been found over the years).
– Watch your aim. There’s a big net covering the central basin. Try to lob the coin so it lands in the pool, not on the ledge or railing (staff do sweep surrounding areas for missed coins).
– Be respectful. Don’t climb on the marble, litter, or disturb local visitors (locals still consider Trevi a place of belief). Photographers should avoid obstructing others – many come for family snapshots. Unlike classic monuments, here people are interacting with it – so just be courteous in this high-energy spot.
In terms of framing shots, the best viewpoint is from a slight distance to capture the entire facade. Note that in 2023 the fountain was under restoration and scaffolds; if you visit right after that, check whether the scaffolding is down. Locals also hint that standing on the small stone ledges near the water (where tourists often step for photos) is frowned upon.
Does tossing really work? Strictly speaking, it’s superstition. There’s no guarantee your wish (return, love, or otherwise) will come true – just a slice of confidence and fun. Anecdotally, millions have tossed coins and some certainly returned to Rome, but that’s likely coincidence plus tourist satisfaction. Either way, the act is almost ritualistic: people enjoy feeling they’ve done something meaningful.
Can I make any wish or only return to Rome? Traditionally, one’s “wish” is tied to the coin count. The oldest version is “return to Rome.” The love/marriage ideas were later additions. In practice, you could wish for anything personally, but the local story will always say return/love/marriage in some form.
What if I don’t have a euro coin? In practice, at the basin you’ll find coin-change stands and people selling trinkets (though official advice is to bring your own euro). Some vendors may offer euro coins or token substitutes. It’s best to arrive with a few small euros (one or two-cent coins work). Tourists often bring foreign cents (some deliberately toss Italian one-cent pieces as souvenirs).
Is there a best time of day? As mentioned above: early morning or very late evening if possible. Midday is busiest. Keep an eye on weather too; Rome’s hot summers mean crowds plus heat, so an early or dusk visit is more comfortable.
How deep is the fountain? The central basin of Trevi is shallow – just a few inches deep. It’s not a swimming pool. You cannot swim or even wade in it nowadays (the walls are low, but the water is only a few centimeters deep).
Who owns the fountain? The Trevi Fountain is property of the City of Rome, maintained by municipal authorities. It was commissioned by the papacy but today is a cultural landmark under city care. The coins belong to the city (donated to charity), and the monument is legally protected as public art.
Throwing coins into the Trevi Fountain is more than a cute travel ritual. It connects modern visitors to a complex past: the act merges ancient water worship with Baroque civic pride and even Hollywood glamour. At its core, the tradition endures because it addresses universal hopes – for love, for luck, for a return to a city we fell in love with.
This tradition also has a moral twist: the money tossed is not lost to the waves but used to help Rome’s needy. That twist gives the act extra meaning. Thus, even as cameras flash and crowds jostle, there is a real outcome: the coins collected feed the hungry and house the homeless through Caritas programs.
In the end, the Trevi fountain coin ritual reminds us that even in a global city like Rome, humanity’s aspirations remain rooted in simple gestures. By tossing a coin, a tourist enters a lineage of worshippers and romantics – and, however whimsical, participates in an age-old hope that magic still has a place in the Eternal City.
