Most of what I write starts in Rome.
Not the postcard version,
but the quieter details you can still notice if you slow down.
The ground that rose over centuries.
Buildings that don’t behave the way you expect.
Moments where the past is still sitting just beneath what you see.
If one of them holds your attention, you’ll probably like the rest.
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I write a few times a week about places where the past still feels present.
Start with the first one below.
