There is a moment, just after dawn in Florence, when the Ponte Vecchio belongs only to the metallic echo of a shopkeeper’s shutter and the swirling mist from the Arno. In Rome,
There are two Venices. The first is the city of summer: a dazzling, sun-drenched spectacle, teeming with crowds that flow like a human river through its narrow alleyways, its waters shimmering under