Delectations

Andiamo in giro, say the Romans; which means “Let’s circulate.” So they do. Round Piazza Venezia, Piazza di Spagna. Up the Palatine, down the Janiculum. Three on a scooter, three hundred to a streetcar. This summer, parking was banned in the city center, so no one can stop. In other cities you feel that people are moving with purpose; in Rome you’re sure it’s for pleasure.

Romans hate to plan: they live by the theory of the combinato all’ improviso—the surprise encounter. With a pretty girl, say, or an ice-cream, or the Pope. Let the car take you round St. Peter’s Square a couple of times, if it will, on Sunday morning. Like some beautiful Renaissance toy the white figure of His Holiness appears at the high window. Twice or thrice he bounces majestically an invisible globe in upturned hands in that strange gesture of benediction, then retires. (“I miss no opportunity of a blessing,” wrote Oscar Wilde, visiting in 1900. “My walking stick shows signs of budding.”)

CF

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Charles Foley

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Andiamo in giro, say the Romans; which means “Let’s circulate.” So they do. Round Piazza Venezia, Piazza di Spagna. Up the Palatine, down the Janiculum. Three on a scooter, three hundred to a streetcar. This summer, parking was banned in the city center, so no one can stop. In other cities you feel that people are moving with purpose; in Rome you’re sure it’s for pleasure.

Romans hate to plan: they live by the theory of the combinato all’ improviso—the surprise encounter. With a pretty girl, say, or an ice-cream, or the Pope. Let the car take you round St. Peter’s Square a couple of times, if it will, on Sunday morning. Like some beautiful Renaissance toy the white figure of His Holiness appears at the high window. Twice or thrice he bounces majestically an invisible globe in upturned hands in that strange gesture of benediction, then retires. (“I miss no opportunity of a blessing,” wrote Oscar Wilde, visiting in 1900. “My walking stick shows signs of budding.”)