Mrs. T has always thought that taking 'selfies' to be ever so slightly narcissistic: here's me at the bottom of the Spanish Steps, here's me halfway up, here's me at the top, here's me coming down..........
We saw a woman doing just this today in Rome. The endless need for self-validation.
Mr. Lord and I feel rather quaint with our circa 1990s old digital, and have vigorously resisted all the attempts by the proliferation of hawkers trying to sell a selfie stick.
Still we had a wonderful day.
We were possibly too early for hipsterish Testaccio (everything seems to open after 8pm) but we did enjoy a little trip around the outside of Macro (very trendy contemporary art gallery in a reclaimed slaughterhouse) viewing a bamboo helterskelter. And Mrs T continues to astonish with her knowledge of Italian foodstuffs.
Things threatened to turn a little nasty when her wee legs started to give way after the Pantheon. Mr. Lord wondered whether the poor thing was overcome with emotion but a visit to the loo and a bowl of very al dente pasta seemed to revive the poor old thing.
Up and down the Spanish Steps, a moistening of the eyes around our dear Keats last resting place and back to the hotel for a reviving glass of Sangiovese.
She has been extremely well-behaved today.
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