Wandering in central Rome on Tuesday – a day after the grand Italian opening – was like stepping into a vintage costume cinema set where the director had just given the command to begin filming. “Lights! Camera! Not much Action…” The Spanish steps flounced a cascade of pink and white azaleas in full bloom. Shop windows gleamed their outrageous displays, artfully arranged overnight. One was able to stand still anywhere in the splendid city and see the entire backdrop without being dragged away by a tsunami of sweaty tourists. Doormen in black suits propped themselves in empty shop doorways. Slinky ladies clipped along the cobbles on expensive heels, doggies in arms, while men sipped black coffee outside Cafe Greco. The classical scene in our eternal city. There were no calls for “Cut”, it was simply a reel Roman dream day.
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