WALKING HOME AT TWELVE O´CLOCK P.M.

I took the bicycle down to the Metro. However, when I thought about returning home there was a strike and I had to walk back.

For several years they have been constructing a Metro station by Colosseum. Work began in 2013 and might finish in 2024, though this is doubtful. Metro line C cuts straight through the very heart of Rome. The ground is unstable and insecure, filled with remains of ancient structures. They work day and night. Below me tunnels were dug through ancient Roman military barracks - more than thirty rooms decorated with wall frescoes and mosaic floors. 

The town was quiet and almost empty.

Giorgio Castriota, called Skanderbeg, born 1405 in Kruja, Alabania, died in Lezha 1468. 

The pyramid of Rome, built 18 -12 BC as a tomb for Gaius Cestius, priest and head of one of ancient Rome´s four religious congregations, Septemviri EpulonumThat is all we know about him.

Stazione Ostiense, underpasses.

Eataly

Someone lives here the entire year. He puts flowerpots in front of his trailer. I wonder who he is. Someday I will ask him.

The marketplace in Garbatella.

House entrances are lit all night.

Ponte Settimia Spizzichino

My bicycle was still standing by the Metro station.

Almost home.

BLOG LIST

  Recently I flew to my oldest daughter's Masters Graduation at Prague Theatre Academy (DAMU) and then made a stopover in Warsaw. It was the first time I was there for more than ten years. At the end of the last century and at the beginning of this one, I worked in Stockholm, while the...
  Nyligen flög jag till min äldsta dotters masterspromovering vid Prags teaterakademi (DAMU) och mellanlandade då i Warszawa. Det var första gången jag var där på mer än tio år. I slutet av förra seklet och i början av det här arbetade jag i Stockholm, medan familjen bodde i Rom. På...
  About a week ago, I saw Ibsen's Hedda Gabler in Hässleholm. It was a performance by the to me unknown Theatre of Halland and my unfounded prejudices against local theaters came to naught through a fast-paced and well-acted show. Since then I have occasionally pondered...
  För någon vecka sedan såg jag Ibsens Hedda Gabler på Kulturhuset i Hässleholm. Det var en föreställning av den för mig okända Teater Halland och mina ogrundade fördomar mot lokalteatrar kom på skam genom en fartfylld och välspelad föreställning. Sedan dess har jag grubblat...
  The morning mist has lifted, but remains blue whitish high above the landscape, without an opening towards the bright blue expanse behind it. Water droplets hang on bare branches, the ground is covered by rust brown leaves. Except for a faint sound of dripping water, the forest...
  Dimman har lättat, men ligger kvar högt över landskapet och färgar himlen svagt blåvit, utan en skymt av öppning mot de bakomliggande, klarblå vidderna. Vattendroppar hänger på nakna kvistar, marken är täckt av rostbruna löv. Sånär som det svaga ljudet av...
  The other day we dined with a couple of Mexican friends who were going to travel to Ecuador. We talked about the country where I was several years ago spent a few weeks in the southern mountain chains. When I now fly home to Sweden from Rome and look out of the window, I find it...
  Häromdagen hade vi besök av ett par mexikanska vänner som skulle resa till Ecuador.  Vi talade om landet där jag för flera år sedan hamnat högt upp i bergen på en plats i landets södra delar. När jag nu flyger hem mot Sverige från Rom och tittar ut genom fönstret finner jag det...
  As a boy I used to spend hour after hour at a desk crammed into the entry hall of my childhood home, painstakingly creating one colored ink drawing after another. Aside from reading, drawing and painting was my favorite pastime, probably because such activities allowed me to enter a...
  Som en tämligen lillgammal pojke brukade jag timme ut och timme in sitta vid mitt skrivbord i barndomshemmets tambur medan jag noggrant och detaljrikt knåpade ihop den ena färglagda tuschteckningen efter den andra. Bortsett från läsning, var att teckna och måla det bästa...
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