Battesimo a Roma

We attended the baptism of our friends' son in a side chapel of St Peter's Basilica today.

It was a wonderful occasion in an awe-inspiring location.

The beauty of the Basilica's interior is almost too much to take in.

It was an honour to be invited to little Julian's baptism. Eight years ago, we attended Allesandro and Claudia's wedding in Adelaide.

Later, at midday, the Pope appeared at the window of his lodgings overlooking St. Peter's Square. He blessed and addressed the adoring crowd.

Here are some pics from today ...

Two sets of parents await the baptism of their children

Claudia, Julian (with priest), Allesandro holding Isabelle

the awe-inspiring opulence

exquisitely carved mahogany confessional

Another Michaelangelo masterpiece

top floor, second window from right, the Pope makes an appearance

Rome Day 2

The obligatory visit to the Colosseum began with running the gauntlet of touters, hustlers and bullshit-artists.

Once inside though, the awe-inspiring scene made the trip worthwhile. Two thousand years ago, in an arena that was laid over a labyrinth of holding bays and passageways, gladiators slaughtered gladiators, gladiators slaughtered animals and unpopular Christians were turned into martyrs.

We then walked around the evocative archaeological site that is the Roman Forum and the Palatino. Here Caesar copped it in the back and unmentionable things happened in the House of the Vestal Virgins.

We got to the top of the Venice Museum in Venice Square, via a vertiginous lift, to enjoy a stunning 360 degree view of the city.

We were very close to those grandiose statues of four-horse chariots that sit atop the building.

Last night we walked around looking for a recommended restaurant, only to find an abandoned, graffitied shutter where it once used to be.

The one we finally chose was stifling inside, so we ate on the terrace, at the foot of a dimly lit stone staircase where two young men sat drinking and smoking.

The veal scallopini in lemon sauce was brilliant.

Here are some pics of old stuff ....

Side-trip to Rome

Day 1

At a food court in the Termini railway station last night, young men in white chef's coats laughed as they worked dough deftly.

They bantered with customers and each other as they casually shovelled pizzas in and out of wood-fired ovens.

So far, in our dealings with people, everyone has been able and happy to speak English. Thank god.

I've been carrying around a piece of paper on which is written, "Mi dispiace, no parlo italiano.", 
but I haven't had to use it.

Rome has changed since I was here 30 years ago. It is much more cosmopolitan today.

So, on our first outing, we visited Rome's Jewish ghetto, a labyrinth of ancient streets dating back to 1555.

Maybe this was an unusual first choice in a city of famous temples, monuments and archaeological ruins ... but we ran out of time to visit the Jewish quarter in Vienna in May and regretted it.

Near the Via del Portico D'Ottavia I took a photo of a plaque on a wall that read Largo, 16 October, 1943.

This is where about 1000 people were rounded up and deported to Auschwitz. Apparently, only a handful returned home.

We had a great lunch in the koscher Ba Ghetto restaurant, ducking inside just as a fierce thunder storm broke over a parched city.

We almost went into the local synagogue/museum but were too Jewish to pay the 11 euro per person entrance fee.

Below, a cursory selection of today's shots  ... I cannot believe I have been 24 hours in Rome and not had a gelati.

Piazza Venezia

A cute little trattoria in the Jewish quarter

pretty old pub

not the Colosseum

old door with brass knocker

the cool, leafy forecourt of our lodgings

taverna antiquia

So far away

Sometimes I regret the helplessness of distance.

We all make decisions about how and where we retire. We all have dreams to chase. Sometimes we end up on the other side of the world to where we used to live.

But it's a decision that carries a price.

News came this week of the death of a cameraman colleague and friend with whom I'd worked for 20 years at the Australian Broadcasting Corporation in Adelaide.

Peter was a good cameraman and a terrific bloke.

Rushing back, memories, details of some of the great stories and adventures I had with Peter all those years ago.

Now he's gone, at 72, of pulmonary fibrosis.

Peter's funeral is on Friday. There isn't even enough time to send a card, so I have asked some ex-ABC mates to convey my condolences to Peter's wife and family.

In February, I wrote about the regretful discovery that two old friends I knew in Morocco had died, and how I was so looking forward to re-connecting with them, after 40 years.

Now this.

The flight of the Hirondelles

Known in English as swifts or house martins, we observe a thousand or more of these small birds perched on the high voltage wire atop the electric pylons in the farmer’s adjacent  field.

Below them, the farmer is harvesting tonnes of plums from his orchard, soon to become the famous “pruneaux d’Agenais”.

These birds are preparing for their annual migration south, to sub-Saharan Africa.

the house martin, courtesy Google image

Apparently, on this long flight, they catch airborne insects and store them under their wings to feed on during their long journey.

Les Hirondelles will return to southern France next year.

Sunday lunch

La Commanderie at Temple sur Lot has always looked like a great spot to experience that wonderful feature of French life, the long Sunday lunch.

Nestled at the foot of ancient stone walls, La Commanderie  caters to the carefree and languid indulgence of locals and visitors.

We have often driven or cycled past it on a Sunday afternoon and noticed people sitting outside under parasols, by the cool, water jets of shallow pools.

The 13th century tower and ramparts once housed members of the legendary Knights Templar.

The setting is gorgeous. The food, attractively presented, had some room for improvement.

Brochette of duck

Dessert

Potted colour around the aqua pools enhanced the aesthetics. I was impressed with the cast iron, sundial footings for the parasols.

Bazas

This is a very pretty town about 40 minutes drive south-east of Bordeaux.

It's got a famous 13th century cathedral.

Bazas is renowned for a breed of beef cattle.

It is rare to see these advertising murals painted on walls. Most have faded away ...

We were a long way from Queensland's Sunshine Coast ... but there it was!

We were visiting Bazas after viewing a house near the village of Mazères. The house was disappointing but Chateau de Roquetaillade, the nearby castle wasn't.

this is what I always imagined a medieval castle would look like

complete with moat and drawbridges

and a portcullis

 We explored the grounds and I was thrilled to make this discovery.

A thirteenth century Citroen 2CV.