The combination of early sunset and the safety issues in South Africa make it a challenge to take Merlin to the park during weekdays. Luckily he is such a curious little chap that he keeps running in our back garden all day long – and our domestic helper also takes him out several times a week. As a result he is (with a wide margin) the fittest creature is our household. Admittedly, that is not a high bar.
When Stuart and I started dating, he once told me how I made him see the nature in Johannesburg differently again. I was childishly excited how there are flowers blooming around the year – and commented on it non-stop. He had lived here long enough not to see it anymore.
We all need to be reminded sometimes to see what is around us. Luckily there are children aroud. Children and foreign visitors.
When I come home after few days away, nothing can pull Merlin away from my side. Nothing but a frisbee or a tennis ball.
Today’s photo is not the best of the day. (My last day in Rome…). In fact, it was (and still is) a bad photo in many ways – overexposed, badly framed and lots of ‘noise’ in the picture (The cars really bother me). I am still not sure why I kept editing it over and over again, and trying to make it work. Something in it just spoke to me.
It’s still not the greatest of photos. But the story it tells is a story so very typical to Rome.
History of the Vatican is not a religios or harmonious one. It’s all about power. The level of dirty politics during e.g. Borgias exceeds almost any other stage in human history (I leave the word ‘almost’ to prevent Stuart proving me wrong in the next minute).
With that as a backdrop, and tourist milling around, the sense of calm is surprising.
I love the concept of a siesta – when I’m on holiday. How anyone can work with a siesta breaking the day in two, is completely beyond me. But on holiday, the break at midday is the ultimate luxury. As an additional benefit, there is no better time for photography than very, very early in the morning.
Roman Forum in sunrise.
I apologise for a delay in posting. Ever since the plane touched down back in Johannesburg, I’ve been run off my feet.
“The perfect day is a balance of culture and pleasure”, repeated our travel guide for the 4th time as we boarded the bus in Pompeii and headed towards the Amalfi coast.
In one aspect my trip to Rome has been a bit of a disappointment: I wanted to practise my people photography skills and maybe do some street photography. However, my patience ran out quickly. It is practically impossible to take a picture involving people, without everyone being glued into their phones, either taking photos or messaging – and this includes the nuns(!) Only today, as I strolled quite far from the tourist area into a local park, was my fate in humanity restored.
I like to think of myself as someone who does not like shopping. And I don’t. At least not the kind that requires me to systematically go through store after store. But who can resist the allure of an unexpected find – The I-don’t-want-to-resist item in a little store in a back-alley you are unlikely to ever return.
I’m an accidental shopper.
It’s easy to find good food in Rome – as long as you avoid the biggest tourist centers. It’s much harder to find good food that is not Pasta Carbonara, Pizza Margarita or Veal Saltimbocca.
Local tasting menu celebrated ingredients from close by – an experience worth every kilo gained.
Fried artichoke is a specialty of the Jewish Ghetto.