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holes that in some way felt like voyeurism, again smiling I thought of the artists creating this illusion deliberately.
The town was now starting to stir, the mid-summer sun was warming the surrounds very quickly, the local people were going about their daily chores before the heat of the day hit hard.
“ Buongiorno,” now a familiar greeting as we continued to explore the streets and lanes, easily becoming lost in a maze of buildings and a sense of history. It was a wonderful feeling. Children scurried past, carrying brooms and buckets, each tasked with cleaning a section of walkway in preparation for the looming festivities. I wondered if the youngsters of my home would carry a similar level of enthusiasm. I doubted it.
From the towns walls the views across the surrounding fields was delightful. Morning life was in full
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