“Arriving at each new city, the traveler finds again a past of his that he did not know he had: the foreignness of what you no longer are or no longer possess lies in wait for you in foreign, unpossessed places.” — Italo Calvino, Invisible Cities

I’ve only been back in Canada a few days since my Italian adventure, and already I am missing Italy. In particular, I miss my customary breakfast from Venice.

Also, the festive town squares. They’re civilized gathering places in Europe, as opposed to our pot rally and riot zones in Canada.

I was taken aback by the bad graffiti everywhere, but there were a few works of art that made me smile, such as this scene in Venice:

And this interesting one in Florence — not sure what the mask is all about, but I like the effect:

The random underground caves beneath people’s houses were also pretty fascinating. This one served as an Allied munitions cache and a church for the locals during the war years. Now it’s a nice place to escape the heat, although the severed doll’s arm was a little disconcerting:

I also miss the ease of train and canal travel:

Although there was the odd gondola traffic jam:

The locals weren’t much good with directions if you got lost, unfortunately:

And the street signs were a bit confusing:

I even got caught up in a pilgrimage to the Vatican, where tourists excitedly snapped photos of the priest telling them not to take photos:

Lots of naked guys everywhere, too. The Italians like to party au naturel, apparently: 

And I did work out some ideas for the new Cross book while touring one of the many museums, so it wasn’t entirely unproductive.
I do miss those cappuccinos, though.

“You take delight not in a city’s seven or seventy wonders, but in the answer it gives to a question of yours.” 

— Italo Calvino, Invisible Cities