So many roads start from Rome

... I love Milan and its dome, a solitary diamond on a calloused hand, Turin and its tiara of museums like so many precious stones, Bologna « l’Italienne », gifted Modena, Siena and its Campo – an urban transcription of the Spring of Botticelli -, Florence the snob, Naples and Palermo, old ladies ruined but never tired of seducing, Montepulciano, severe despite its charm, full of dignity. I love Parma, because the only somewhat chic boutique in the village of my childhood (Metullum in Roman times), on the edge of Poitou, was called "A la Ville de Parme", a perfect shade between a white lilac and a purple one. I love Venice of course, but there, we are no longer on earth...