Welcome to Italy, my secret garden, iron gate doors, cobblestone courtyards, skinny women in tight black clothes.
In Como… Circling storms around the Duomo covering empty space, tourists with an agenda to experience, supporting Italians working to serve them their pranzo, lunch.
Hot spot candles melt in the dark cathedral. All the people bring in the street and the sky with their shoes. The wax collects as more and more people pray for their diseased. The echoing air cold and colorful by the only light between the clouds. Because it is apart of my unscheduled day.
Bologna, Italy… We are in the city of vaulted archways, a city of hallways and interior courtyard lives. The porticos, for which the city is famous are pedestrian covers from the rain and sun.
Students in this ancient city commune in the few piazzas for a Friday evening to defend their scientific thoughts.
Today we may climb the 4 kilometer portico of San Lucca. It is near the Italian Football stadium.
Across Italy, and most prominent in Padova Italy where the students are, there is a fashion crisis jumping back to the 80,s! American T-shirts, tight black, green, turquoise Jordache jeans ending with their very popular Nike tennis shoes. Tennis shoes that are hot pink, orange and blue. Away from those pegged pants are the Bologna dressers. Dressers dressed in vacation, buttoned up linnen dresses, scarves and pretty sweaters. I read Walden under a lunch portico, below an old and crumbling brick sidewalk and watch the city of peole for an hour.