Sirmione

The Romans had it right.

This weekend, I went to Sirmione, a small fishing village built on the end of a peninsula that juts out into the middle of Lago di Garda. It's location affords some impressive views of the lake, the Alps and the surrounding foothills and farmland on the shores of the lake. The town itself is riddled with layers of history and of the traces of generations of pleasure-seekers looking for a bit of rest and relaxation.

Frankly, it's remarkably beautiful. Look:





















The reason why I say the Romans had it right is because at the very end of the peninsula there are the ruins of the Grotte di Catullo, a kind of Roman bath resort, spa emporium, pleasure island, villa all in one. Why it went into disrepair, we can only guess but the scale of the ruins is a testament to the might of Rome and of course the spectacular excess that comes with the wealth of one of the world's largest historical empires. Now though, where once the elite of Rome wined and dined today remains only olive groves that sway in the breeze and the sound of waves lapping the cliffside.













Walking around, I could only wonder if in a 1000 years, our modern day shopping malls, big box stores, McMansions or cruise ships will be in the same shape and have quite the same power of place as the Grotte di Catullo. What will they be a testament to? Sirmione, for example, is a testament to the fixity and continuity of place: a once Roman resort that today remains a vacation destination and even boasts the Terme di Sirmione spa. Is this vocation informed by geography? by cultural memory? How is it that place and identity can resonate throughout the ages?

I leave you to ponder this with a photo of a Roman pillar. An Italian tour group invaded the church that appears in the photos above right as my friend Diego and I were leaving to continue our exploration of the peninsula. The tour guide explained that the church, like much of the town in it's present form was built with recycled marble and construction materials from the Roman era. Such ingenuity was of course the product of forced necessity, as roads in the medieval era were overrun by bandits that made it near impossible to transport and exchange such materials.

Again, I ask, what if we had to do the same?

Paris In Glances [because it’s just too big to touch]

Paris is monumental. It’s esthetically pleasing. It’s sidewalks are wide and unencumbered by cars (like some other cities). Parisians themselves are beautiful people that are for the most part well-dressed and who ultimately enjoy an appreciable standard of living [at least in the impossibly expensive center of the city].

Paris is without a doubt the City of Light.

This all being said, it’s easy to get lost in photos of grand monuments that finer details of urban life in such a dynamic city go seemingly unnoticed. Residential street scenes, architectural detail, wide open and constantly changing skies, Paris is a stimulating experience for all the senses. The crunchy of the crust of a fresh baguette, the rhythm of French spoken the streets, the texture of cobblestones and the gently varying topography, the uniformly white façades of it's residential buildings that absorb the incredible variations of lighting and of course the pungent aroma of cheese.

I will post some obligatory shots of the Eiffel Tower, but this trip I found a lot more to look at.