In September, after the long, hot summer, life in Rome supposedly returns to its usual work/school routine, doctor’s appointments and whatnot. La ripresa. Not that anyone is really going back to what was before.
La ripresa could also refer to an economic upturn. Again, dubious.
Today’s photography theme was la ripresa, working around the stalls in Campo de’ Fiori, which was hardly bustling.
At least in one sense it was a ripresa: my own personal one of going around the city with my camera again, for the first time in months. I felt a bit rusty, not unlike the wrinkled tomatoes with a touch of mould in the basket in front of an empty restaurant.
In the background, the fairies were doing their best to keep up appearances.
Some restaurants had a more sombre look, perhaps hoping their good name would bring their customers back.
Every little corner in this area has a rich history, and hidden treasures.
Down at the other end of Camp de’ Fiori, off the via del Pellegrino, is the picturesque Arco degli Acetari, with one of the most photographed courtyards in Rome.
Although the waiters’ and salespeople’s masks made their words mostly inaudible to me, they seemed very keen to get the ripresa going. It’s not that I’m difficult to please, but I’d already done my fruit & veg shopping, don’t enjoy the taste of pomegranate juice, was not tempted by the menù veloce. If it had been evening, and one of the comfy and spacious front row seats available, I might have stopped here for a prosecco, for old times’ sake.
As it was, after 3 hours, 2 coffees and a few short conversations with a dozen or so strangers, I was already exhausted – a fairly typical side effect of the September ripresa.
It felt like nighttime already. I followed the pink swan’s example, donned my mask and headed for home in the rain.
The picturesque Church of Saint John the Baptist at Lake Bohinj.
After the day’s walkabout, a stroll around the tower area in the evening was the most likely choice, even if it meant coping with crowds. But as it turned out, not noticing them was easier than I’d hoped.
Instead of cooling off in the shade, we went trudging around in the afternoon heat. No wonder shuttered windows look so appealing in the summer sun.
in yer mooth she staps a leid
naebody kens, in yer hert a stane
Architectural photography’s not really my thing – in more suitable hands I’m sure much could be done with the play of light and shade on the structure of the bridge itself. But Edinburgh’s Forth Rail Bridge is so eye-catching that’s it difficult to avoid trying a shot or two. Not calling it iconic – that is such an over-used word nowadays.
An insider’s view 😉
A few hours around Oslo’s parks and waterfront and you find yourself surrounded by sculptures of women, sitting, standing, often with babies, often naked.
New to me was She Lies, a glass and steel iceberg-looking sculpture afloat in the fiord on the Oslo waterfront near the Opera House. This time a sculpture created by a woman, Monica Bonvicini.
I wonder if there are, somewhere in this city, sculptures of women and men pushing prams.
The old wooden bridge sits behind the newer one. It is no longer used for its intended purpose but is now home to a few plants and the occasional tree. From this perspective, from the lakeshore below, the two bridges appear to blend together.
The old, as reflected in the new.
Spotted on a recent walkabout in Glasgow.
A shot taken at the MAXXI in Rome a few years ago… and wilfully subjected to some bizarre PP.My excuse is that I had also started using digital darkroom software around that time and couldn’t resist playing around.