For a tourist, Italy can seem as overexposed as a sunset; every view recognized in postcard after postcard. Writing seems as redundant as any visual document. Others have described these narrow streets, these views, the moods, the weather, as well or better. The Brownings lived here amongst others, but perhaps more familiar to me is E.M. Forster’s Room with a View. I feel sympathetic to Lucy Honeychurch, who, on seeing the Cockney Signora, the pensione dining room full of her countrymen and the painting of the Queen hung next to the schedule for the English church, wonders if she has, in fact, left England? Continue reading
Water echoes like a bell in languages I do not understand, I stand on the dock at San Michele while full Vaporettos pass one after the other.