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That’s not the Middle East.
No, I left behind the desert and went to Italy for a week. Besides a lot of pasta, a lot of gelato and a lot of walking, there aren’t loads of details, just pictures. Here are some from Rome:
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Romulus and Remus and their she-wolf Momma
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This Bernini bust of Medusa is considered not his best work. But they’re fixing her up anyways.
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I always thought this was in Greece. Turns out it’s not.
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The Marcus Aurelius statue in the Capitoline Museum. That’s my travel pal, Phil, gawking.
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Typical Rome.
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Typical gelateria.
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The Colloseum.
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Trevi Fountain.
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“What is that smell?”
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The Appian Way was the road leading out of ancient Rome, along which wealthy Romans built their mausoleums.
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Here’s me trying to recreate one of those 17th century paintings where aristocrats would dress up as peasants and pose in pastoral settings, reading, playing cards, or being awoken by rosy-cheeked shepherd boys. You know, how peasants lived.
Some from Vatican City, which sort of counts as its own country, seeing as they have their own postal service:
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Cherubambino.
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Nothing wrong with a little holy wine. Me, with the wine-in-a-box you can buy at the Vatican cafeteria, and Bacchus, in the Vatican Museum.
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The popes have been hoarding art for centuries now, and just pack the halls full.
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Catholic kitsch? You’re in the right place.
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Vatican City by night, over the Tiber River.
A Moroccan man was running the hostel where we stayed in Florence. When I heard him counting out my change in Arabic I started talking to him a bit. (I'm relieved to find I can communicate with dialects other than Jerusalem's.) “I knew you were Arab!” he said triumphantly. “I could tell from your eyes!” Here are a couple from Florence:
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Here's a security guard locking up Lorenzo Ghiberti's doors to the Florence Baptistry.
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The Arno River, which flows through E.M. Forster’s novel A Room with a View. A recommended read.
And finally:
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Weird, right? The uncanny resemblance between this Velasquez portrait in the Vatican Museum and former Backstreet Boy Kevin Richardson.