We stood up and boarded the red train, seats jammed close together but it would be fast and then we would be in Rome. We had spoken about Rome for a time, trying to go in November but then we had been obstructed. We continued to speak about going. Rome as the ultimate capital, the famous layers that Ivan and my mother and everyone spoke about, civilisation upon civilisation in the chaos of that antique city. From Florence, it felt like a first step into the Italian South, the beginning of the fiery half of the peninsula and it promised commotion and warmth. I was pleased as we boarded the train because it had been some time coming, and it was an opportunity in between the duties of home. K had a meeting the next day and we decided to envelope it with two slow nights in a little room in the city.
It is coincidental that I was recently enamored by the black and white of Roma, and that Dean for Christmas happened to gift me a 36 roll of black and white film for my little automatic Olympus Mju. Dean is sweet: he knows something about photography and saw me playing around with the camera. He wanted to encourage the hobby I had been enjoying for the past months. I’d never tried a black and white film before and wasn’t expecting much, especially given my poor focus skills and the slight unpredictability of the Mju. And yet, here I have gathered some of the photos from that film, and I am happy with them. They convey the spots I visited in the first days of January, where I walked, and the persons and creatures I walked with. Although some are lacking in the sharpness of pixel, they are warm and delicate and, perhaps, worth a share.