If Barcelona is like your hip, younger cousin then Rome is like your old, widowed Aunt who doesn’t bathe anymore, chain-smokes, and drives way too fast without her glasses.
Her projects always include a phallic symbol. They are everywhere…alongside each and every monument, church, piazza, whatever…there’s a huge column. She’s obsessed.
One thing you have to admire about her is how she continues to thrive despite the fact that she shuns modern technology.
Despite her age she looks pretty good…
and really, she has done some fabulous work that has held up phenomenally well over the years.
You won’t find lush gardens where you’d expect them and most piazzas and courtyards have been turned into parking lots. She absolutely adores automobiles.
She has a unique sense of humor – as evidenced by her extensive collection of holy hand grenades.
She serves the most delectable food… its simplicity a soothing contrast to the chaotic swirl of Rome.
Sometimes you get a glimpse of her intrigue…
and then she does something totally crazy, yet beautiful.
More often than not you find that she’s just not the woman you thought she was.
But you still love her.
